Author's Note:
I will be releasing two chapters, up to Chapter 20, and observing how this work evolves.
I'll also give it a little boost with some promotion, thanks to other fanfics connected to me, directly or indirectly.
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After managing to calm her turbulent emotions, Kikyō glanced around the room where sunlight never penetrated.
Since the intrusion of bandits into the monastery, Dōma had made several adjustments to the infrastructure.
Kikyō couldn't help but frown as she took in the current state of the room, once bathed in the sunlight she so dearly loved.
This new darkness diminished Dōma's unique radiance, in Kikyō's opinion.
"Honestly, who invited those craftsmen in charge of rebuilding the monastery…?" she grumbled, displeased, for Dōma's reception hall now resembled a massive, sunless box.
Dōma sensed Kikyō's presence gradually fading as she moved toward the neighboring corridor.
He lazily sprawled on his cushion, nonchalantly playing with his golden folding fan.
*Is there really a demon nearby?* he wondered.
Beneath his carefree demeanor, the ice demon's mind was racing: an intruder was on his territory.
Yes, Dōma now considered the entire region his personal domain.
"I haven't yet seen another of my kind… I wonder if we could communicate?" he murmured with amused curiosity, though he knew the odds were slim.
Most demons were merely mindless creatures, slaves to their instincts or Muzan's will.
Communication was never guaranteed.
"In any case, I should set things straight… This one dared to lay a hand on my adorable believers."
He snapped his two fans shut, clapping them together.
"Blood Demon Art: Crystallization of the Miko!"
(Image)
As the fans parted, a crystalline ice doll, a miniature replica of Dōma, materialized.
The small being, barely a meter tall, leapt to the ground with agility and bowed obediently.
"This little thing is truly adorable… though my adversaries would likely disagree."
Dōma smiled and tapped the ice creature's head with his fan.
His Blood Demon Art had developed smoothly: he already knew exactly which direction to take with his ice powers.
Yet, his ultimate technique, *Lotus Bodhisattva*, was not yet perfected.
It wasn't a lack of understanding of cold, but simply a matter of energy.
Dōma needed to eat more.
After all, he had only been a demon for a year, and Muzan had granted him only a small amount of blood, transforming him on a whim.
Despite this, his power was growing at an abnormal rate.
'Hmm… I really have a talent for being a demon,'he thought, tilting his head in an unintentionally cute gesture.
He inspected his creation before sending it to practice some of his combat techniques.
Satisfied, he struck his fan again and summoned another.
Eventually, he discovered his current limit.
"Two clones, without using *Vanity's Paradise*, is my maximum."
With that additional technique, he could control up to four ice creatures.
The ice creatures served as relays: Dōma perceived each of their actions and channeled his power through them.
But too many relays weakened the signal, making it difficult to manage the flow of information.
'Vanity's Paradise'lightened that burden, but the strength of each clone diminished if their number exceeded four.
Dōma fanned himself with an elegant gesture, his eyes scanning the four small ice statues—his "Miko."
They began wielding their fans, performing various Blood Demon Art techniques.
They possessed nearly the same intensity as their creator but could neither spawn other creatures nor unleash large-scale attacks due to a lack of energy.
Dōma, however, knew that all it would take to push those limits was… eating more humans.
In an instant, the entire room was enveloped in thick frost.
Delicate ice lotuses bloomed on the walls, their beauty deadly.
The frigid air bit at the skin, each breath risking lung necrosis: a perfect weapon against demon slayers.
'If I grow strong enough through feeding, I could neutralize my enemies without fighting myself,'he thought, admiring the frozen spectacle.
When night fell, he left the monastery and descended toward the town at the foot of the mountain.
His goal was twofold: to find some "treats" rejected by society (irredeemable scum)… and to track down the demon responsible for the recent disappearances.
But the evening proved disappointing.
As the night wore on, the streets emptied, and he still found no trace of the culprit.
Dōma consoled himself, thinking he would surely achieve at least one of his two objectives in the last unexplored districts.
He wandered through the alleys, using *Vanity's Paradise* to probe suspicious passersby for potential crimes.
Thanks to his reputation as a cult leader, people greeted him warmly, and he even overheard whispers from children and women as he passed—compliments on his appearance, and a few rare criticisms of his sect.
He crossed paths with some believers distributing food to the destitute.
They greeted him, some even offering him something despite their poverty, a gesture he noted mentally:
'Someone who gives when they have little will give even more when they have plenty.'
A homeless girl handed him a blue tulip.
He tucked it behind his ear, briefly rediscovering a moment of good humor… until a familiar scent stopped him dead in his tracks.
The smell of blood.
His demon instincts awakened instantly.
Following the trail, he arrived in an alley where the moonlight illuminated wide scarlet splatters.
A large silhouette was unmistakably devouring the body of a child from humble origins, judging by the tattered clothes of the unfortunate soul.
"Damn… he was still too young and too scrawny."
Dōma stepped forward, deliberately letting the other sense his presence and his irritation.
A demon dared to feast on *his* territory.
' Forget any peaceful discussion… this demon must perish here.'
However, Dōma would not act rashly due to the child's death.
He still didn't know the exact strength of the enemy before him and hadn't reached the same level as his manga counterpart.
Dōma was many things, but he wasn't a shonen protagonist blinded by his emotions.
"Huh? Can't you hear me… or are you too lost in your instincts?"
Seeing no response from the other, Dōma tilted his head slightly and continued his one-sided conversation.
The shadow of the demon at the end of the alley turned around, a bloodied arm still in its mouth.
If Dōma had to describe the creature, he'd conclude it was tall and massive.
That alone was enough to emphasize its intimidating appearance, especially since Dōma himself stood around 6'3".
'At least… 6'9",' he estimated mentally as the demon fully straightened up.
Strange, jagged black patterns adorned its ferocious face, while a pair of spiraling horns, like those of an ox, protruded from its head.
"Is this your territory?"
The Horned Demon didn't stop eating and replied in a muffled voice.
The crunching sound of the arm being crushed by its fangs created a kind of unpleasant music by Dōma's standards… though any ordinary human would have trembled in fear.
Naturally, that included Jay.
"I've never seen a demon that looks so human… Could it be a defective product?"
The imposing demon mumbled its thoughts aloud unconsciously, its red eyes fixed on Dōma.
Even though its eyes saw a human, its instincts and sense of smell confirmed it was dealing with a true demon.