"What was that sound?!"
The demon inside the mansion jerked its head toward the direction of the commotion—just in time to see a roaring water dragon tear through the wall and surge straight toward it.
"Lucky me. Got the direction right."
Chika gripped her Nichirin Blade and leapt forward, slashing down. The multi-layered dragon coiled around her strike, its gaping maw letting out what seemed like a furious roar.
Water Breathing: Tenth Form – Constant Flux was a finisher-level technique—its power multiplied with every rotation, speed and force spiraling higher until it could rival Flame Breathing: Purgatory.
The demon twisted desperately, flesh ripping as the edge of the strike grazed it. It survived—but barely.
Chika stopped and turned sharply, her eyes locking on the demon with a gaping hole in its torso.
The Drum Demon—once the weakest of the Twelve Kizuki's Lower Moons. Though its initial growth as a demon had been rapid, its potential quickly plateaued. Muzan had eventually expelled it from the ranks, leaving it stuck in this half-fallen state—too strong for ordinary demons, too weak for greatness.
"Who… who are you?!" it snarled, clutching its chest as its flesh tried to regenerate.
"Big brother, just look at my sword," Chika replied flatly. "Do I look like anything but a Demon Slayer?"
Her gaze shifted to the corner of the room. A wounded boy was curled up there, trembling and pale—but alive.
'Good. Not dead yet.'
She exhaled softly in relief before facing the demon again. It was muttering under its breath, half-delirious.
"My Blood Demon Art… it's powerful… I'm strong… I'm strong…"
Then it slammed its clawed hand against the drums growing from its body.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Each beat twisted the room, spinning it on its axis. But Chika didn't even stumble—she had already expected this trick.
"Your Blood Demon Art allows you to fuse with the architecture itself, turning it into your personal domain," she said calmly. "From that angle, it's actually quite potent. You've got potential."
The demon froze mid-beat, blinking in surprise. Praise wasn't something it heard often—certainly not since Muzan had cast it aside. The compliment, even from an enemy, made its eyes flicker with fragile pride.
And in that instant of pride, Chika's blade shimmered.
A ripple of clear water surged.
One smooth motion.
Draw. Slash. Flick. Sheathe.
The demon's head hit the ground with a dull thud.
Without a glance back, Chika called toward the corner. "Can you walk?"
"Y-yeah… thank you. There are still… other kids inside…"
"Don't worry. The demon's dead. It's safe now. I'll send others to search later."
Waving him along, she guided him toward the exit. 'That Blood Demon Art really did have potential,' she mused. 'But potential that never blooms is just wasted noise.'
For her, anything below a Lower Moon wasn't even a challenge. At this level, even Tanjiro from the original story could have handled it with ease.
As the echoes of battle faded, Chika headed for the exit—only for someone to burst out of the mansion before she could step through.
A shirtless boy wearing a boar's head mask skidded to a halt in front of her.
"You—you—you stole my prey!!"
Chika stared blankly at him for three seconds, then turned away and continued walking.
"You ignored me?!"
The boar-headed boy lunged forward with a feral cry, trying to tackle her to the ground. Chika leaned aside effortlessly. The boy missed completely, eating dirt with impressive force.
Before he could recover, Chika grabbed him by the collar like a misbehaving cat and lifted him off the ground.
"H-hey! What the hell?! How are you so strong?! What do you eat, woman?!"
"People~," she said casually.
He froze, blinking through the boar mask. The threat clearly didn't land. Chika sighed, rolled her eyes, and—upon reaching the doorway—tossed him outside.
He flew in a perfect arc, hitting the ground with a loud crash, spinning a full seven hundred and twenty degrees before stopping.
"Are you okay?!" Tanjiro shouted, running over.
Before he could even check, the boar-headed boy leapt back onto his feet, completely unfazed. His spirit was unbreakable—if not entirely sane. He turned toward the mansion and started screaming again.
Chika stepped out a moment later, the rescued boy trailing behind her.
"Sister!"
"Tanjiro," she said, "there might still be injured people inside. Go search. Your nose will find them faster."
He nodded at once. With his enhanced sense of smell, Tanjiro could locate not just demons—but humans in need. He dashed inside, with Zenitsu and the two frightened children following, sensing that things outside might soon turn even more chaotic.
"Fight me!!"
The boar-headed boy drew his dual Nichirin Blades. Unlike standard swords, both edges were chipped and jagged like saws.
He'd smashed them himself—hammering the blades against rocks until they took on that wild, serrated look. Normally, Nichirin steel was nearly indestructible under proper use, but treated as a blunt object… even it could be dented.
Chika regarded him coolly and unsheathed her own sword—a flawless, translucent blue.
The boar-headed boy grinned beneath the mask, excitement rising. He lived for challenges, for testing himself against the strong. That drum demon had been meant as his prey, but now—he'd found a new target.
"I won't hold back! Beast Breathing, Second Fang: Slice and Dice!"
With a battle cry, he launched himself at her, both blades swinging down in a wild arc.
Beast Breathing—an original style derived from Wind Breathing, born entirely from instinct. For someone to invent a new Breathing Form was a feat of true genius.
Unfortunately for him—
'Tch,' Chika thought, her expression calm. 'Genius? Sure. But who isn't?'
She exhaled slowly—Full Concentration Breathing active even in casual motion—and raised her blade to meet him head-on…