Yes—Yukishiro had already started planning his escape. The trainer never showed himself, and that fact alone told him this wasn't some staged trial.
He had stumbled upon a real demon.
He shook his head, scanning the ground until he found several sharp sticks. He gripped them tightly, ice already coating his palm.
"This next strike will be my last. After that, I run. A demon's strength is endless, its body unkillable without a Nichirin blade. I can't win here."
He steadied his breath, eyes sharpening. Snowflakes began to drift down again, settling onto the sticks in his hand, frosting into long icy cones.
"Phantom: Falling Snow."
It was a technique he had just devised—melding the fluid steps of Phantom with the freezing strikes of Falling Snow.
Before the words had fully left his lips, his figure scattered. Dozens of afterimages flickered into the clearing, rushing the demon from every angle.
The creature twisted frantically, claws lashing at illusions, but Yukishiro's true body slipped through. Seven or eight icy projections stabbed their spears into its joints—knees, ankles, hips—locking its movements.
The demon howled, writhing, its limbs jerking under the bite of ice.
Yukishiro didn't wait. He turned and fled up the mountain road, each step heavy with exhaustion.
Behind him, the Demon's enraged screams tore through the forest.
Why uphill? Running down would be faster, easier—but far more dangerous.
"If I go down, I don't know how far the foot is. I don't know if anyone's there, or if anyone could even fight this thing.Too many unknowns. But uphill… at least the trainer should be close. The cries must have reached him by now. All I need to do is hold out until he comes. If not…"
He swallowed dryly. "…then I was meant to die here."
Dragging his body, he stumbled forward. At first he managed a jog, but soon his legs swelled, trembling with each step. Vision blurred; he leaned on the rocks just to keep moving.
"Please… let it stay down. Let it give up."
But a roar shattered his prayer. Branches cracked as something leapt from tree to tree, closing fast.
His steps faltered. He sank down against a boulder, shoulders sagging.
"Forget it. This is the end."
A bitter smile twisted his lips. The world ahead was black, whether from nightfall or his failing eyes he couldn't tell.
"That stingy woman… dragged me into all this. And now I won't even get to settle the score with her."
Shinobu Kocho's face rose in his mind—calm, delicate, yet hiding steel. A warmth stirred in his chest.
Beyond his sister, she was the only woman who had made him want to reach out, to understand, to draw closer.
He fumbled into his bandages and drew out a pendant. Azure light shimmered faintly from it as it swayed in his fingers.
"Yukishiro, don't come looking for me. Don't think about revenge. Just live well."
His sister's last words. Words he had barely heard as she slipped away. Since then, all that drove him was the thought of finding her, of killing Chiikane, of avenging his home and family. He had never imagined the road would end here, before it began.
A foul wind swept over him. A dark silhouette landed heavily before him, radiating hate.
"It's here again. This really is the end."
Yukishiro stuffed the pendant back beneath his bandages, lifting his gaze. His eyes couldn't make out its face anymore, but he stared anyway, defiance glinting faintly in the blur.
The demon roared, claws flashing toward his throat.
Yukishiro's eyes widened. Veins bulged across his forehead. He sucked in a ragged breath and roared with all the fury left in him:
"Chiikane!"
The name ripped from his throat, raw and furious. The sound made the demon hesitate, jerking back onto a branch, thinking another hidden technique was coming. After all, this prey had wounded it more than once.
But nothing followed—only the echo of his cry rolling across the mountains.
Realizing the bluff, the demon screeched in rage and launched down at him, claws bared to shred him to pieces.
"Breath of Rock, Second Form: The Sky Shatters!"
An aged, gravelly voice rang out.
Yukishiro forced his eyes open. Through the haze, a massive figure loomed before him—broad-shouldered, immovable as stone.
A dull crack thundered in the air, like a melon bursting.
The demon's body sailed overhead, its skull obliterated in a single punch.
Relief broke through Yukishiro's chest. "Finally… I made the right bet."
The burly man caught Yukishiro under the arm as if he were weightless, slinging him over his back, and strode steadily toward the peak.
On the stone steps behind them, the headless demon staggered blindly, claws scrabbling against the ground. Within moments its body dissolved into ash, vanishing completely.
Yukishiro watched from the man's back, awe rising in his chest. "So strong… as expected of the Rock hashira."
But a question gnawed at him. "Wasn't it said only the Nichirin Sword could kill demons? Then how…?"
"Still alive?" the old voice rumbled. "If I'd been a moment later, you'd be gone. You're green, still carrying old wounds, but you endured long enough to wound it. That much is commendable."
Yukishiro coughed. "It's a pity I didn't have a blade. Otherwise I wouldn't be in such a mess."
A grunt answered. "You've got ability, boy."
"But… how did you kill it? Without a Nichirin Sword?"
"Who told you only a Nichirin blade can slay demons?"
"The… book."
"Hmph. Books only tell you the simplest, most reliable way. In truth, what kills them is the ore itself—the sunlight-absorbing mineral forged into those swords. It disrupts their blood's regeneration. To finish one, you need two things: cut off the brain's control, and destroy that blood system. Any weapon made with the ore can do it."
Yukishiro blinked, realization dawning. "Then… he had something infused with it. But to smash through with bare fists… what kind of monster strength is this old man…?"
The voice continued, almost to itself. "There's another way, too—poison. Wisteria flowers eat at their blood from the inside. Works well on weak demons, but stronger ones need too much. It's inconvenient to carry. Few bother with it."
Yukishiro's lips thinned. "That woman… she uses poison."
Shinobu Kocho's image flickered once more in his mind.