[If we reach 100 Power Stones this week, I'll release 10 bonus chapters as a thank-you to everyone's support!]
....
The Demon father roared, his huge fist slamming into the earth. The ground shook violently, cracks spiderwebbing out from the impact. Mitsune leapt lightly into the air, toes grazing his forearm as she vaulted past his head.
"Love Breathing · Unbridled Form — The Suffocating Feeling of a Pounding Heart!"
Her voice rang out like a sharp bell. The flexible Nichirin blade spun and wrapped around the demon's thick neck, coiling tight. Both feet pressed against his spine, her back arched, arms taut as she hauled with all her strength.
Steel scraped against ice, shrieking as sparks burst from the wound Yukishiro had left earlier. The smell of burning blood and frozen flesh mingled as the blade bit deeper.
The Demon father dropped to one knee with a thunderous crash. His claws flailed blindly behind him, raking deep grooves into tree trunks and boulders. When he failed to grab Mitsune, he seized at the blade itself, trying to wrench it loose. His body twisted violently, smashing into trees, splintering them like twigs, desperate to shake her off.
But Mitsune clung on. Every jolt rattled her bones, every collision left her ribs screaming, but her hands refused to release the hilt.
On the opposite bank, Inosuke stared wide-eyed. He hadn't thought much of the soft-faced girl earlier, but now he was stunned.
She's strong—crazy strong.
He snatched up his broken blades from the ground, ignoring the searing pain tearing through his chest. With a hoarse roar, he splashed across the river, legs pumping.
"Beast Breathing · First Fang — Pierce!"
He rammed both broken swords into the demon's throat, shoving alongside her pull, adding his own weight to the cut.
"Now!" he growled through gritted teeth.
Mitsune pressed her knees hard into the demon's back, her body trembling as her muscle fibers swelled to sixfold density. Her delicate face twisted with strain, veins bulging on her neck, arms quivering like a bowstring pulled to the breaking point.
The wound split further, the blade sliding inch by inch.
Only three more—two—one—
The demon father bellowed. Muscles swelled, veins bulged like ropes, and in a last desperate surge he lashed out. His fist hammered into Inosuke's chest.
"Guh—!"
The wild boar boy's body flew, smashing through branches and brush before slamming to the ground in the forest. He coughed a spray of blood, limbs twitching, and didn't rise again.
The demon clawed at his throat, yanking the broken blades free, throwing them to the ground. He staggered upright, still roaring, refusing to die.
Mitsune's arms burned with fire. Her lungs screamed. She could feel her grip slipping—No, not yet, not when I'm this close—!
And then—
A shadow descended.
A golden shimmer streaked across the battlefield, swift and precise as a bee.
"Insect Breathing · Dance of the Bee Sting — True Flutter."
The voice was light as a songbird. Shinobu Kocho appeared above, the moonlight catching her butterfly-patterned haori.
Her thin sword pierced the demon's head cleanly, slipping past the hard shell like a venomous sting.
Her dainty feet touched the demon's crown for a heartbeat before she sprang away, alighting gracefully on the ground.
The demon father writhed, greenish ichor bubbling from his gaping jaws. His many eyes glazed, cracks splintering across them like glass ready to shatter. His roars faltered, limbs weakening.
Mitsune seized the final opening. With one last scream, she hauled everything she had left.
The blade tore through.
The demon father's head ripped free in a spray of black blood, spinning into the air before crashing onto the ground with a dull thud. His massive body convulsed, then slumped forward, shattering branches as it collapsed.
Mitsune's momentum sent her tumbling backward. She rolled across the earth, dirt and leaves clinging to her, until she slammed against a stump and finally came to a halt.
Her breath came ragged, chest heaving, face pale.
"...Mitsune."
Shinobu crouched beside her, calling softly.
Her eyes fluttered open. "...Sister Butterfly? Why… why are you here?"
Shinobu's lips curved faintly. "Of course. I was assigned to support you. But—where's Yukishiro? Weren't you with him?"
Mitsune's expression dimmed. She struggled upright, wincing at the bruises blooming across her ribs. "We were together. But then… he left. I don't know where he went."
Shinobu's brows tightened briefly. "I see. And… the one with the boar mask?"
Mitsune blinked, then scrambled up in alarm. "Yes—where is he?!"
When Shinobu arrived, Inosuke had already been hurled into the forest. Following Mitsune's memory, the two combed the undergrowth until they found him crumpled in a bush. His wild boar mask had rolled away, revealing short azure hair plastered to his forehead, and a face strikingly handsome—soft features at odds with his savage roar.
Mitsune knelt, eyes widening. "So it's… a boy…"
Shinobu checked his pulse, her voice calm. "He's alive. Badly hurt, but alive. Mitsune, stay with him. The Kakushi medics will arrive soon. I'll look for Yukishiro."
Mitsune wanted to argue, but the words died on her lips. She only nodded. "Please… be careful."
Shinobu gave her a small smile before disappearing into the trees, the scent of wisteria trailing faintly after her.
Mitsune turned back to Inosuke, brushing dirt from his cheek. Despite her exhaustion, a strange warmth filled her chest. This reckless stranger had thrown himself into danger to aid her. She could not leave him alone.
Yet, her thoughts drifted—Yukishiro had walked away, chasing something none of them could see.
…
Deep in the woods, Tanjiro stood frozen.
From the darkness emerged a boy clad all in white—snow-pale hair, white kimono, white skin glowing Demonly beneath the moon. His yellow eyes bore down on Tanjiro, the kanji for "Lower Moon Five" etched within them.
Tanjiro's breath caught in his throat. His legs trembled. Never had he felt such crushing pressure. It was as if thousands of needles pierced his skin, his lungs constricted, his body rejecting even the air.
So this is… the Twelve Kizuki…
His grip on the Nichirin sword faltered. His chest burned.
He staggered back until the wooden box pressed against the tree at his back. The solid thud grounded him—reminding him of Nezuko within, of the vow he carried.
The boy in white lowered his gaze to the threads of spider silk playing through his fingers. His lips curved into a faint, scornful smile.
"You said you would protect me…" His voice was cold, sharp as the silken threads he toyed with.
"But in the end, you act like this. Pathetic. Useless."
He flicked the thread. It shimmered in the moonlight, thin as a hair, but carrying death in every strand.
Tanjiro's blood ran cold.