Crack!
The sound of a dry branch snapping underfoot drew the attention of a pair of eyes hidden in the dense foliage above.
Eyelids lifted, revealing brown pupils that fixed on the source of the noise.
Beneath the tree, a massive figure had appeared unnoticed, its presence saturating the air with the thick stench of blood.
"Hand Demon?" A hoarse voice called down from the tree.
Clearly, the owner of those brown eyes recognized the hulking figure below.
After a rustling sound, a centipede-like demon with elongated limbs slowly emerged from the branches.
"Hand Demon, why have you come to my territory? Trying to steal my hunting grounds?" The Centipede Demon demanded harshly.
On Mount Fujikasane, Hand Demon wasn't the only demon who had survived this long. Besides the newly emerged Centipede Demon, several other powerful demons who had each devoured dozens of humans lurked in these mountains.
These demons of similar strength had reached an unspoken agreement, dividing Mount Fujikasane into territories.
While the Demon Slayer Corps considered this mountain their final selection grounds, for these demons, Fujikasane was both their prison and their hunting grounds.
Yet Hand Demon didn't answer the challenge.
As the Centipede Demon descended, moonlight revealed Hand Demon pitiful state—countless putrid green arms covering its body, none intact, with severed flesh and gaping wounds everywhere.
Though the wounds showed signs of slow regeneration, recovering from such severe injuries wouldn't be easy, even for demons.
"You! What happened to you?!" The Centipede Demon gasped in shock.
It knew Hand Demon strength well—it surpassed its own and most other demons on the mountain. In theory, nothing on Fujikasane should have been capable of wounding Hand Demon so badly.
A terrifying possibility occurred to the Centipede Demon, its voice trembling as it asked.
"H-has... has a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps returned?!"
The Hashira were the shared nightmare of all demons on Mount Fujikasane.
Every demon captured and brought here had faced a Hashira before, their terrifying power burned into the demons' very souls.
Even the strongest demon on Fujikasane couldn't withstand more than a few strikes from a Hashira.
Realizing this, the Centipede Demon instinctively prepared to flee and hide.
The demons who survived long enough to eat dozens of human swordsmen here might not have other skills, but their ability to escape and hide was unmatched.
Just as the Centipede Demon was about to bolt, Hand Demon moved.
One relatively intact putrid green arm suddenly lashed out, catching the Centipede Demon completely off guard as it wrapped tightly around the long limbs on the demon's back—its primary weapons for both combat and escape.
"Hand Demon!! What are you doing?!" The Centipede Demon roared in terror.
Hand Demon merely grinned hideously, its shrill voice now dripping with fawning servitude.
"My lord, I've restrained it. Please make your move."
"My lord? What lord? Hand Demon, you—" The Centipede Demon eyes bulged in rage, but before it could finish, a flash of turquoise light sliced through its neck.
In the next instant, the world spun violently in the Centipede Demon vision.
With a soft thud, it saw its own headless body collapse to the ground.
"My... head...?"
The emerald Nichirin Blade slid smoothly into its sheath as the head of the Insect Demon crumbled into ashes beneath Shinichi feet.
This demon, who had lurked on Mount Fujikasane for twenty years, perished completely without even getting the chance to activate its Blood Demon Art.
"Third one..." Shinichi silently counted in his mind.
Thanks to the Hand Demon betrayal, those long-hidden demons on Mount Fujikasane were being rooted out one after another by Shinichi, each swiftly dispatched with a single decisive slash.
Indeed, to save its own life, the Hand Demon had shamelessly sold out all the overpowered demons lurking on the mountain—better them than itself.
If it hadn't immediately knelt and betrayed its kin, that Nichirin Blade halfway through its neck would certainly not have stopped.
For Shinichi, having the Hand Demon as a "demon traitor" saved him a lot of effort, sparing him the need to use the Eighth Form: Whispering Forest Eye to scan the area inch by inch.
However, as he purged these overpowered demons, Shinichi couldn't help but feel a chill.
Now he understood why the Demon Slayer Corps' Final Selection had such a high mortality rate.
In just one night, he had already eliminated so many overpowered demons, yet the participating swordsmen had to survive on Mount Fujikasane for a full seven days—no wonder the death toll was so high.
At this thought, Shinichi raised his head to gaze at the night sky.
The Demon Slayer Corps' only countermeasure was relying on Kasugai Crows to circle overhead and scout, but even they couldn't keep watch over the entire mountain at all times.
Shinichi shook his head.
This wasn't something he should be worrying about now. His only task was to eliminate as many overpowered demons on Mount Fujisasane as possible.
As time passed, Shinichi—who had previously ruined his clothes by activating Raging Blood—now sat cross-legged on a massive boulder, dressed in fresh attire.
In one hand, he held a sickly sweet dorayaki, chewing heartily.
These supplies, of course, were all carried in the silver mirror at his waist.
Beside him, the once-battered Hand Demon had mostly regenerated, though its aura was several times weaker than before.
Its newly grown arms bore an unhealthy, putrid green hue, and its massive body now cowered fearfully in Shinichi presence.
Its pale yellow demon eyes kept stealing glances at Shinichi as he devoured the dorayaki, then darting toward the dense forest nearby.
An overwhelming urge to flee surged through the Hand Demon—but the moment it twitched ever so slightly...
A sharp blade sliced through the air with a whistle. The emerald Nichirin Blade instantly pierced one of the Hand Demon arms, pinning it mercilessly to the ground.
A cold voice rang out behind it.
"Ugly demon, I suggest you don't try anything funny. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to send you straight to hell right now."
Beads of cold sweat instantly formed on the Hand Demon sickly green scalp. It hurriedly stammered in a fawning tone.
"N-No! My lord! How could I dare?! I—I just... My lord, dawn is approaching. I merely wished to find you a proper resting place!"
Unaware that Shinichi had no fear of sunlight, the Hand Demon still subconsciously regarded him as a powerful demon who wielded human Breathing Techniques.
Of course, Shinichi wouldn't explain anything either.
He had no intention of continuing to search for Demons on Fujikasane Mountain during the day.
After all, maintaining the Blood Demon Art: Raging Blood consumed energy—it was more reliable to rely on the "traitor Demon" Hand Demon at night.
"Is that so? Then I must have misunderstood you. But I don't think you'd mind, would you?" Shinichi slowly revealed a "nuclear-friendly" smile.
Meanwhile, the Hand Demon, enduring the excruciating pain from its shit-green arm pinned to the ground by the Nichirin Blade, forced its pale yellow demon eyes into a squint and flattered with a fawning smile.
"O-of course not, my lord. I don't mind at all."
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