After the first scream tore through the night, others followed almost immediately—high-pitched, panicked wails that echoed through the trees.
The Spider Demon slithered among the group like a shadow, its thin, pliant frame weaving between frightened bodies. Wherever it darted, swords lashed out wildly, steel ringing against air. Yet instead of cutting down the Demon, blades found human flesh—shoulders slashed, legs torn open. In their panic, the slayers were killing one another.
Chaos.
Utter chaos.
No matter how loudly Kimura shouted, no matter how desperately he tried to restore order, his words were drowned out by the frenzy.
His throat grew raw from screaming, but no one listened.
Inside the circle, the Spider Demon toyed with its prey. Outside, the lumbering, misshapen figure with three heads drew closer with every thunderous step. The defenders were caught between two nightmares—attack from within and annihilation from without.
The outer ring of swordsmen stood frozen, eyes darting back and forth, torn between facing the Spider Demon behind them and the three-headed abomination breaking through the treeline. At last, someone broke.
A boy barely older than fifteen dropped his blade, shrieked, and bolted toward the mountainside path they had climbed earlier.
That single cry was enough.
The fragile line of courage snapped like a string of beads scattering across stone. First one, then another, and then dozens more abandoned their posts. Screaming, they fled in every direction—some toward the woods, others back down the mountain.
The collapse had begun.
Within moments, the formation unraveled completely.
Those who were injured crawled and limped after the able-bodied; others who were whole enough to fight threw their blades aside and sprinted for their lives.
In the vast circle where so many had once stood together, only a handful remained. Kimura, Eimi, and a few grievously wounded lay scattered on the ground, unable to move.
Kimura tried to hold the line, grabbing shoulders, seizing arms, shouting, "Stand your ground! Don't run! If we scatter, we're finished!"
But his pleas met only terrified eyes. One after another, they tore free of his grasp and vanished into the forest.
Desperation broke him. Tears welled up as he swung his Nichirin blade in a frenzy, charging at the Spider Demon.
Each strike missed its mark as the creature danced mockingly around him. Behind his swings, necks continued to snap like brittle branches.
The Spider Demon's smile widened, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight, as though it were enjoying the spectacle of his helplessness.
From the woods came the booming advance of the three-headed Demon, each step quaking the ground.
Eimi seized Kimura's arm, her own face pale with terror. "Kimura! Stop—it's useless! We can't save them. We have to go!"
"Eimi, let me go!" Kimura roared, voice breaking. His eyes burned red, streaked with tears. He glared at the crouching Spider Demon, as though sheer fury could strike it down. "I can't leave them! Not like this!"
The Demon tilted its head and grinned, mocking him.
"You can't save them," Eimi shouted, her voice trembling. "If you stay, you'll die here too. Please!"
Snatching up a stray pack abandoned by a fallen comrade, she dragged Kimura by force, pulling the nearly maddened boy away from the carnage.
Together, they stumbled toward the peak, fleeing from the two Demons.
Behind them, a young woman too injured to run clawed weakly at the ground. "Kimura… help me… please…" Her voice was a whisper, fading even as her hand reached out.
The Spider Demon crawled atop her, its long limbs pressing her into the dirt. It looked up at Kimura as he fled, flashing a taunting grin, before twisting her neck with a sickening snap.
"Kimura!!" The sound tore at his soul. He howled, but Eimi yanked harder, forcing him onward.
Then the three-headed Demon surged forward. With one massive arm, it seized a corpse from the ground, swinging it like a club toward the Spider Demon.
The Spider Demon's body bent unnaturally as it leapt aside, nimble as a spider skipping across its own web. It darted between the three-headed Demon's legs, clawing and swiping, laughing all the while.
"GRRAAAAAH!" The three heads roared in unison, each voice filled with rage. They clashed, brute strength against lithe agility, the two monsters entangling in a gruesome dance of death.
Kimura and Eimi did not look back. They ran until the sounds of combat blurred into the distance.
…
Elsewhere, atop the mountain path, Yukishiro sat in silence. Mitsuri's earlier question—"Why did you come back to take the Corps assessment?"—still echoed in her ears. The memory of her sister being torn away by a Demon consumed her thoughts. The grief had risen so violently that she'd lost control, her expression scaring Mitsuri into silence.
Mitsuri had tried to ease the tension, but when she remembered the cold fire in Yukishiro's eyes, her courage faltered. A chill still lingered in her chest.
The silence was broken by a piercing scream from the far side of the mountain. Both girls flinched.
Mitsuri's entire body trembled. She turned sharply, but behind her was only stone. "What was that…?"
Yukishiro's gaze was cold, steady, fixed toward the darkness. "It's begun. That must be the bouncing Demon we saw earlier."
Another scream followed, louder, closer.
Each one was like a nail driven into the heart. Every scream meant a life extinguished, a last cry that no one would ever answer.
One became two.
Two became many.
Soon the night air was filled with waves of terror—shrieks that rolled across Fujikasane Mountain like a storm.
Mitsuri pressed her hands to her ears, but it did no good. The cries seeped into her very bones, shaking her until her legs carried her to her feet. She found herself staring at the stone wall beside her, as though she could see through it to the slaughter beyond.
Yukishiro turned, noticing her pale face. For a moment, discomfort stirred in him.
He thought of another girl—Kanzaki Aoi, back at the Butterfly House. Aoi had passed the assessment, but the fear of death had broken her spirit. Even as a Demon Slayer, she never had the courage to face her missions like the others.
"Girls," Yukishiro thought grimly, "they're not suited for this life. Not just for their bodies—but for their hearts."
At last, the screams dwindled, fading into silence.
Mitsuri sat heavily beside him, her voice faint. "Did… did a lot of people die?"
"Maybe," Yukishiro answered. "They all knew the risk before coming."
"Then why do they scream like that… if they were prepared?"
He had no answer.
"Are they all dead?" she pressed, her eyes wide with dread. She was thinking of Kimura's group.
"No," Yukishiro said finally. "There were too many. Even a Demon couldn't slaughter them all so quickly. More likely… they scattered."
Relief softened her shoulders.
She nodded, falling into silence.
But the night was not done.
From the woods came the crunch of branches, hurried footsteps—several at once. A man's voice shouted, strained with desperation. A girl's voice followed, weak, breathless, breaking with sobs.
"No doubt," Yukishiro thought. "More survivors… or more prey."
"Qin, just run! Don't worry about me—I can't… I can't keep going. They're right behind us!" the girl wailed.
A boy's voice answered, heavy but unwavering. "No, Yuka! I won't abandon you. Just a little farther—hold on! Someone will come. Someone has to!"
Even in despair, his conviction was unshaken.
Others would have thrown their companion toward the Demons to save themselves. But these two—this boy and girl—chose to cling together even at the edge of death.
The sound of their labored breaths grew louder. Then—a sudden cry. The girl stumbled, her foot plunging into a hidden pit. She collapsed, dragging the boy down with her.
Above them, a shadow leapt from the branches—fangs bared, claws gleaming in the moonlight. A Demon lunged straight for their throats.
"Breath of Love, Second Form—Regretful and Hesitant Love!"
A clear, defiant voice rang out.
And the blade descended.