"Where did those two run off to…" Takeo muttered, slicing through the branches that blocked their way. "We're completely separated now, aren't we?"
"Yeah… I'm worried too." Nezuko stayed close behind him, eyes scanning the darkness between the trees. "But tracking a demon in a mountain this size isn't easy either. We haven't found any trace of one—not even Zenitsu or the others. That's what bothers me."
"They probably wandered off in the wrong direction. It's dark, after all—"
Takeo cut himself off mid-sentence. A heartbeat later, he lowered his stance, grip tightening.
"But at least we've found something."
Nezuko followed his line of sight.
Suspended from the thick canopy above were dozens of white spheres—each nearly a meter wide—hanging at uneven heights throughout the forest. There had to be fifty… maybe more.
Against the tangled branches and leaves, they stood out immediately. These weren't fruit.
The siblings exchanged a silent look and moved closer with caution. They selected one hanging lower than the rest and examined it carefully.
Its surface bore clear woven patterns—deliberate, meticulous. And from the slight sag at the bottom, something heavy was wrapped inside.
Takeo nudged it lightly with the scabbard of his Nichirin Blade.
"It's soft… but springy. And from the sound… there's liquid inside."
Nezuko's smile vanished as her gaze swept the forest once more.
"This has to be the demon's work. We should be even more careful."
"Should we cut it open?"
Nezuko gave a small nod and drew her Nichirin Blade. "I'll handle it."
"Wait." Takeo tightened his grip on his sword and exhaled slowly. "There's something I want to try."
He lowered his eyes briefly. "I finally found the Breathing Style that suits me… but I still can't use it the way I want. It's frustrating."
Nezuko's expression softened. She didn't argue—only stepped back and reminded him quietly, "Don't let whatever's inside touch you."
Takeo lowered his stance and steadied his breathing.
While recovering from his injuries, he had spent countless hours studying the First Form of Moon Breathing—Dark Moon, Evening Palace.
At its heart, the First Form was a lightning-fast iaijutsu draw.
He had once seen his teacher split a tree thick enough to encircle with both arms—using nothing but an unsharpened wooden sword. The cut had been flawless, smooth as glass. The blade hadn't so much as chipped.
Even slowed down for instruction, the motion had been nearly impossible to imitate. Takeo had memorized every detail, chasing that same power—only to push his body past its limits and end up bedridden for days.
But he understood now.
He was still growing. His body wasn't ready for that level of force. What he needed wasn't overwhelming speed or brute strength—it was control. Accuracy. The ability to strike more than once.
A perfect blow meant nothing if it missed. And a technique that could only be used once might as well not exist at all.
Nezuko watched silently as Takeo steadied his breathing.
Then—deliberate, measured—he drew.
The white sphere dropped.
By the time the arc of his blade finished, he had already stepped back. He didn't rush to examine the result. Instead, he sheathed his Nichirin Blade and flexed his right hand, a faint, satisfied smile touching his lips.
"It worked… but it's still too slow." Takeo exhaled softly. "I need to find a better balance between speed and force."
"Don't rush yourself. You'll get there," Nezuko said gently. "You're already doing incredibly well."
Her gaze shifted to the fallen sphere, and her expression hardened.
"But first… we deal with this."
The instant it struck the ground, thick, rancid blood burst from within, soaking into the soil. Wherever it touched, the grass shriveled and blackened. Inside the torn cocoon lay a human skeleton, eaten through and pitted with decay.
"There's no question." Takeo glanced up at the dozens of white spheres suspended overhead, fingers tightening around his Nichirin Blade. "This is the demon's doing. We'll open the rest. Someone might still be alive."
"Mm. Just be careful. Don't damage what's inside."
…
As the Kamado siblings began cutting down the remaining spheres, deeper within the forest, a pale, white-haired girl frowned. Her narrow, slit-like pupils glinted with undisguised irritation.
"Demon Slayers… How did they get that far in? Father needs to handle this."
She turned toward the outer edge of the woods, but before she had gone far, another white-haired woman appeared. Nearly invisible threads extended from her fingertips, trembling in agitation.
"Why can't I catch them…? This is bad. I have to deal with them before Rui notices."
"Mother. What are you doing?"
"Ah—? I-I was just… checking the perimeter. Catching food," the demon called Mother stammered, visibly flustered. "What about you? Where are you going?"
"There are pests in the nest. I'm going to inform Father."
"W-what? There too?"
"Isn't this your responsibility? Letting so many humans wander in. Rui won't be pleased."
"I'm sorry!" Mother's voice shook. "Don't tell Rui. I'll fix it. I'll catch them—right away!"
"Hmph. See that you do. Rui hates disturbances. You know what happens when he's displeased."
As the girl walked off, Mother's expression warped into something ugly and venomous.
"You should've died quietly. Now I'll have to bring out my strongest puppet. Go on—die, you miserable swordsmen."
…
Inosuke tore through the forest in a rage.
Ever since they'd met, that yellow-haired idiot had been nothing but a nuisance. First he'd shielded that ridiculously strong, weirdly floaty demon. Now he'd had the nerve to insult him. But what truly set Inosuke off was this—
He'd chased him out here… and somehow lost him.
"Damn it—!! Where'd you run off to—?! Get back here, you coward—!!"
Snarling, he hacked down a small spider that lunged at him on silken threads.
"Out of my way, you stupid bugs! I don't have time for this!"
Then—
A streak of silver cut through the corner of his vision.
Inosuke dropped instantly, rolling across the forest floor. He sprang back up and fixed his gaze on the attacker.
A demon stood there.
Headless.
Both arms had morphed into long, gleaming blades.
Inosuke bared his teeth and raised his swords.
And then a thought hit him.
[If it doesn't have a head… what exactly am I supposed to cut off?]