On the other side of the battlefield, Mitsuri finally resolved herself to act.
The situation was deteriorating quickly. In just a few breaths, another contestant had been mercilessly slaughtered by the Bouncing Demon.
One moment he was frantically clashing blades with a lesser Demon, and the next—his body exploded like a burst fruit, torn apart by the monster's overwhelming legs. Only half of his corpse remained, swaying grotesquely before collapsing into a bloody puddle. Perhaps until the very end, his mind clung to a desperate wish—to live, and to see the dawn once more.
The stench of despair was growing thicker.
The Bouncing Demon, stained with fresh gore, twisted its grotesque body and performed two violent spins in midair before springing backward out of the combat circle. Its movements were as erratic and unpredictable as ever, its scarlet eyes sweeping over the battlefield in search of another victim.
This time, its attention fell upon youmei.
Whether it was because of her unbroken spirit, her frantic struggling, or simply the natural allure of a young woman's blood, the Bouncing Demon locked onto her with predatory focus.
youmei remained unaware of her fate. Her blade flashed desperately, striking the twisted body of a nearby demon. Her torn uniform was soaked in both sweat and blood, her once-pristine hair plastered to her cheeks. No one seeing her now would connect her with the elegant, confident girl who had first appeared in the square at the start of the trial.
Among the survivors, only three women remained: Mitsuri, Yuka, and youmei. In the Demons' feral instincts, women often carried a more tempting flavor, and now youmei had been chosen.
The Bouncing Demon bent its legs and leapt.
All around her, the surviving contestants were drowning in bloodlust and terror. They hacked at any demon that appeared before them, striking until bone or flesh gave way. None had the clarity—or perhaps the courage—to track the Demon's aerial movements.
youmei's blade slashed across another Demon's chest, spraying her face with foul black ichor. She cursed under her breath, kicked the shrieking monster away, and wiped her eyes clear. When her vision returned, she turned, seeking her next target—
—and found herself staring at a shadow falling from the sky.
The Bouncing Demon landed with a dull, shuddering thud, the earth trembling beneath its monstrous weight. A suffocating stench rolled off its body, a mix of rotting flesh and damp soil.
youmei's stomach twisted violently. Her body instinctively wanted to vomit, but the endless slaughter had numbed her mind beyond the point of fear.
So this is it… my turn.
Her eyes traveled downward, and absurdly, she thought of food. The Demon's calves were tense with coiled muscle, its skin stretched tight and red as though roasted. Its huge, bloodstained feet pressed into the dirt, and in the gaps between its blackened nails clung scraps of human clothing.
It looks like roasted chicken legs…
The stray thought startled her.
Even standing on the brink of death, her mind could wander to such nonsense. Perhaps it was because hunger gnawed at her stomach. Or perhaps her mind was breaking.
Slowly, youmei lifted her gaze.
A pair of emotionless eyes glared down at her. Cold, detached, without pity or hesitation—like looking into the abyss itself. In those eyes, she already saw her death.
Her lips curled into the faintest smile.
So be it.
A pair of enormous red hands reached toward her slender waist. She thought bitterly that her first embrace—something she had once imagined giving to the man she loved—was about to be stolen by this hideous beast.
But before the hands closed around her, a voice cut through the chaos.
"Breath of Love, Second Form—Regretful and Hesitant Love!"
A brilliant white arc streaked across her vision. youmei instinctively shut her eyes, the sound of tearing flesh filling her ears.
When she opened them again, the Bouncing Demon was gone. On the ground before her lay two twitching, severed arms, and a spreading pool of dark blood.
Standing in their place was a slender figure with flowing hair, her blade glowing faintly in the dim light.
"You…?" youmei blinked in disbelief. "Kanroji Mitsuri?"
It was indeed the girl who had been dismissed and mocked by nearly everyone at the beginning.
The girl many had deemed too weak to fight.
Mitsuri looked back at her with concern. "Are you alright?"
"I… I'm fine," youmei stammered, still shaken.
"I'm glad."
Mitsuri exhaled in relief, then rose on her tiptoes, peering through the chaotic battlefield at the Bouncing Demon that had retreated a short distance away. She pouted slightly, whispering under her breath, "Yukishiro told me to kill it… but it won't just stand there and let me chop it. This might be… difficult."
youmei stared at her. Kill it? By yourself? Have you gone mad?
But Mitsuri turned to her again, eyes blazing with sudden determination. "Be careful, alright? I'm going to finish it. Otherwise, Yukishiro will really never forgive me."
And with that, she forced her way through the crowd, moving directly toward the monster.
"Crazy…" youmei muttered, her chest tight. "Completely crazy."
Her thought was cut off by a scream nearby. Another contestant was struck down, their lifeless body crumpling to the ground.
youmei realized then that they were all mad. Every one of them. Whether clinging to life or throwing themselves into hopeless combat, sanity had long since been devoured by the mountain.
She turned back to glance once more at Mitsuri's departing figure. Somewhere deep inside, she had already decided her own fate.
And then she lifted her blade again, charging back into the melee. She no longer cared about fear or survival. In that moment, the line between human and Demon blurred.
Meanwhile, Yukishiro pressed forward against the Three-Headed Demon.
Each slash of his Nichirin Blade forced icy frost deeper into the monster's flesh. The frozen scars climbed its arms, stiffening its movements and restricting its reach.
This was exactly what Yukishiro wanted.
If he could seal its arms, then its neck—the true target—would no longer be protected.
When he was only a few steps away, he leapt, using the frozen limbs as footholds. The grotesque face on its chest twisted in rage, roaring so violently the ground quaked.
But its body was no longer fully under its command.
"Ice Breath, Second Form—Falling Snow."
The world seemed to whiten for an instant. Yukishiro's blade cleaved through the frozen gap in its neck, severing both heads in a single stroke.
The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat—then erupted into cries of relief. For the first time, hope seemed tangible.
But their joy was short-lived.
The Three-Headed Demon shrieked, its remaining chest-face contorting in horror. Even headless, its body remained alive. It flailed its frozen arms wildly, smashing into trees and stone alike.
And then, with a desperate roar, it leapt away—dragging its six ice-bound arms as it crashed into the forest and fled into the depths of the mountain.
The earth shook with its retreat, the sound of splintering trees echoing long after it vanished from sight.
Yukishiro steadied his breath, then turned his gaze toward Mitsuri, who now faced the Bouncing Demon alone.
Its strength lay entirely in its legs. Yet Mitsuri had already proven her body could endure its most powerful blow.
Yukishiro's only concern now was not her strength—but her resolve.
If she faltered, if she hesitated to kill, the Bouncing Demon might yet escape.