[If we reach 100 Power Stones this week, I'll release 10 bonus chapters as a thank-you to everyone's support!]
....
Yukishiro's blade was poised to strike again, his breathing steady, his eyes fixed on the frozen demon's neck. One more swing, and the Spider Father's head would roll.
But then—
A chill swept across the river. Not the sharp clarity of his own ice techniques, but something far deeper, ancient, suffocating. A breath so cold it sank into marrow.
Yukishiro's arms froze mid-swing. Gooseflesh prickled across his skin, his instincts screaming.
His gaze snapped to the north, where the mist of the mountain thickened, and in that direction he felt it: a demonic aura vast and oppressive, stretching across the forest like a suffocating shroud.
That was no mistake.
The Twelve Kizuki. A true Moon is here.
Yukishiro's pulse quickened. The aura flared and clashed with another—human, powerful, resolute. Someone was fighting it, and for their struggle to resonate this far meant the combatant was no ordinary slayer.
Could it be… a Hashira?
The thought unsettled him.
Headquarters must have learned of the slaughter on this mountain. If they had dispatched a hashira, then this might be his only chance.
Imiya Kishi… if she truly bears the mark of the Moons, then this is the closest I've come to you.
The opportunity was here, and if he hesitated, it would vanish. Whether the Moon fled or was destroyed, he could not afford to be absent.
Yukishiro's decision was instant. He slid his blade into its scabbard with a sharp click and turned away.
Mitsune's voice rang from the shore. "Yukishiro! Where are you going?"
He didn't look back. "Stay here. Don't follow me."
And then he was gone, vanishing into the dark trees like a streak of silver mist.
Mitsune's chest tightened. She watched the place where he disappeared, her throat aching. His words, his coldness—it stung like rejection.
He doesn't want me near him… he must hate me.
The burn in her chest rose to her eyes, and her vision blurred. Tears welled unbidden, and her strikes slowed, her sword's rhythm faltering.
On the bank, Inosuke glared, confusion written in every bruised line of his body.
The boy in white had run off, leaving the fight to the girl—who now swung her blade like her spirit had drained away.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Inosuke's voice cracked through the night. "This isn't the time to mope! Cut his damn head off!"
But Mitsune scarcely heard him.
Then—the river shifted.
The ice groaned.
Inosuke's eyes widened behind the boar mask. The Spider Father twitched. Frost fractured across his body as the giant stirred.
"Oi! Watch it!" Inosuke barked, his hoarse voice desperate.
Mitsune looked up just as cracks webbed across the frozen river. The monster roared, his voice muffled by ice, and with a violent shudder he forced himself upright.
The surface shattered in an explosion of shards. Water surged, sweeping the ice downstream.
The Spider Father staggered to his knees, shaking frost from his limbs, then slammed his massive fists against the river, bellowing in primal rage.
The blast knocked Mitsune back a step. She spun, blade raised—too slow.
She hadn't finished him.
Inosuke's stomach turned.
He had seen this before. Once the demon regained momentum, neither he nor this girl would stand a chance.
"Damn it!" he cursed. "That idiot left us to die…"
But Mitsune saw something amid the chaos. The demon's wounds—scars etched in precise patterns across his joints: knees, elbows, wrists, waist. Cuts not deep enough to sever, but deliberate.
Her eyes widened.
So that's what Yukishiro was doing… weakening him piece by piece.
He never intended to end it outright.
He made sure this chance was left for me.
Her throat tightened. No, she realized—his departure wasn't abandonment. It was trust.
The Spider Father lurched toward the bank, his bulk trembling but regaining speed. He roared again, a sound that made the trees quake.
Mitsune's expression hardened. She lifted her blade.
"No more hesitation."
Her muscles coiled, denser and denser, strength multiplying sixfold. The Nichirin sword stretched and curved in her hands, the whip-like steel curling around her legs like a serpent.
The Spider Father swung a massive fist down—but she was already gone, her leap carrying her above the blow.
Her blade cracked across his neck, biting into the frozen scar Yukishiro had left.
The cut deepened.
She landed, pushed off again, and struck once more.
Every attack was aimed at that single wound. Over and over.
The blade hissed as it slashed through cold air, ringing as it carved into stubborn flesh.
The Spider Father staggered. His movements grew sharper, faster. His healing was returning, his muscles swelling with renewed fury. His joints cracked and hissed, frost melting from them as his regeneration clawed back.
But his neck… his neck alone remained locked in ice.
Mitsune gritted her teeth, forcing her body harder, faster. Every breath scorched her lungs, but she did not falter.
On the bank, Inosuke watched, half in awe, half in fury.
"She's doing it…" he muttered. His fists shook around his broken blades. "That wound—it's nearly through…!"
His heart raged with envy. Why was it her? Why wasn't it him standing there, carving victory into the monster's flesh?
Mitsune didn't hear him. She saw only the demon, the widening crack in his neck, the finish line pulling near.
If I stop now… if I falter… all of this will be wasted.
She swung again, harder. The gash tore wider, nearly two-thirds across. Blood sprayed, black and steaming against the moonlit water.
The Spider Father reeled, but his strength surged back faster, his swings heavier. Each blow of his fists sent tremors through the ground, forcing Mitsune to leap higher, faster, her body screaming under the strain.
The window was closing.
I can't wait any longer.
She gritted her teeth, muscles straining until veins stood out against her arms, and lifted the whip-blade high.
"This ends now!"