"Yuka was captured?"
Akino froze, unable to believe what he had just heard. He rushed toward Mitsuri, his eyes wide with panic.
"Aren't you two together? How could Yu… Yuka be captured?"
Mitsuri's face was pale, her hands trembling. "Everything was fine, but on our way back, a spider-like monster suddenly appeared out of nowhere. It… it grabbed Yuka from behind and dragged her away. I wanted to chase it, but… but it was too fast. I… I couldn't keep up…"
Akino's body stiffened. "A spider… Demon…" His voice shook as the memory came back. It was the same one—the very spider Demon that had shattered Kimura's squad in an instant, scattering them like frightened prey.
It was the same one that had drawn the hulking meatball Demon into the fray.
His heart sank like a stone.
Mitsuri spun in place, panic flooding her features. Her tears blurred her vision. "Yukishiro, please! Please go and save Yuka!"
Yukishiro—watched her silently for a moment. He let out a faint sigh, his expression unreadable, though a glimmer of irritation flickered across his eyes. So, I was right…
He lifted his gaze toward the moonlit sky. With his strength alone, if he simply stayed put until dawn, he would pass the Final Selection without question. The test would be over, and he would officially enter the Demon Slayer Corps. That was his original goal, wasn't it? But somehow… something felt hollow.
He had come here not only to survive but to measure the results of his years of training. Yet up until now, every Demon he encountered fell in a single strike. Seven… maybe eight kills. None of them had been satisfying. None of them had truly tested him.
Only the strange bouncing Demon had stirred excitement in his blood. But it had vanished after their first encounter, never to return.
His lips curved slightly. Since this is the last night… perhaps I should make it a little more interesting. A real battle won't cost me my life. At least, I hope not.
He leapt down from the stone platform and landed before Mitsuri, his cloak stirring in the cold wind.
"Which way?"
Mitsuri quickly raised a trembling hand and pointed deep into the forest.
"You two stay here," Yukishiro ordered, his voice sharp as steel. "I'll find her."
"No!" Mitsuri cried, stepping forward. Her voice cracked, but her determination was clear. "I… I'm going with you."
Her heart twisted at the thought of Yuka being dragged away. How could she possibly sit and wait?
Akino tightened his grip on his blade. "I'll go too."
Yukishiro frowned. His gaze swept over them, judging. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. But listen carefully—stay close to me. Don't wander, don't fall behind. If you get separated…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Both of them understood the meaning: separation was death.
They nodded firmly.
The three of them darted into the woods, the moonlight breaking into shards through the trees as they ran.
"Help! Help…!"
The voice was faint but desperate. Yuka.
Yukishiro's eyes narrowed. The spider Demon was dragging her alive. That meant there was still time.
The creature was skilled at breaking necks cleanly and swiftly. The fact that Yuka's voice still echoed through the trees meant she had resisted that fate—for now. But dragged across the forest floor, through branches and rocks, her body wouldn't endure much longer. Even if the Demon didn't kill her outright, she could die from the abuse.
Yukishiro halted suddenly, spinning to face his companions. His voice was low, but sharp enough to cut. "Stay together. Don't split apart under any circumstance. If a Demon appears—fight only if you're confident. If not, hold your ground and wait for me. Understand?"
The sudden wave of cold pressure that radiated from him made both Mitsuri and Akino shiver as though winter had descended around them.
"Yes!" they answered quickly.
Satisfied, Yukishiro surged forward, his form blurring until he vanished into the night.
Mitsuri and Akino stared in stunned silence. He was fast—too fast.
So this is his true ability…
Yukishiro raced through the woods, his breathing steady, his senses sharpened by the training he endured on Mount Bailong.
Even in the suffocating darkness, his mastery of Ice Breathing allowed him to perceive every shift in temperature, every stir of the wind.
Yuka's cries guided him uphill until at last, the forest opened onto a steep slope. His gaze snapped upward.
A massive tree loomed ahead. Its silhouette was wrong, its branches strange. From afar, it resembled a ball of fluff—soft, unnatural. No leaves adorned its limbs. In the moonlight, something pale dangled from its branches.
His chest tightened.
The spider Demon had dragged Yuka almost to the top, clutching her limp body as it scurried along the bark.
Yukishiro didn't hesitate.
He stepped onto a protruding rock, launched himself into the air, and drew his blade.
"Ice Breathing, Third Form: Time-Breathing Rain!"
A flash of silver-white light streaked across the night. Spears of ice formed along his blade and fired outward, aimed at the Demon's legs.
The spider Demon shrieked, its many eyes flaring red. Startled, it released Yuka and leapt higher into the branches, barely avoiding the storm of frozen spikes.
The ice daggers buried themselves into the tree with dull cracks, leaving a trail of frost in their wake.
Yukishiro landed and slid forward, just in time to catch Yuka's falling body. He pulled her close, steadying her against his chest.
Then his eyes rose to the branches above.
And froze.
Corpses.
Dozens of them, suspended like grotesque ornaments. Human bodies, stiff and drained, strung up by webs like meat hung to dry.
His jaw clenched. Rage surged through him, boiling up from the pit of his stomach until it roared in his veins. His sister's face flashed before his eyes. For a terrible moment, he imagined her dangling lifelessly among those corpses, her smile forever gone.
Cold surged outward from his body, a suffocating wave of killing intent. The ground beneath him whitened, frost spreading in every direction. Ice flowers blossomed across the soil.
The spider Demon shrieked furiously from above, its six legs pounding as it swung down toward him, twisting and weaving in the air like a snake. Its movements were hypnotic, designed to confuse prey before the final strike.
But Yukishiro stood unshaken, sword in hand.
"Don't think you can trick me." His breath misted in the freezing air. He bent his knees, lowering his body into a sword-drawing stance.
The Demon lunged, its mandibles clacking, its screeches high-pitched and manic. It wanted his neck.
Yukishiro's voice rang out like a blade of ice:
"Ice Breathing, Fusion Technique—Phantom Snowfall!"
Steel and frost became one. He dashed forward with a blinding speed, his figure splitting into afterimages like drifting snow. The sword slashed through the Demon's body in an instant, cutting faster than its eyes could follow.
A storm of white lines carved across its torso and limbs.
The Demon's shrieks turned into screams as it crashed to the ground. Its flesh was carved into countless wounds, each wound rimed with frost. Cold smoke seeped from the cuts, freezing its regeneration mid-process.
Yukishiro exhaled slowly, his breath a white plume. His blade gleamed under the moonlight, glistening with frost.
The spider Demon writhed helplessly at his feet, its healing sealed away by the icy scars.
This was no longer prey.
This was execution.