Chapter 36: Ruin |
One of the Twelve Kizuki, Lower Rank Three—Wakuraba!
Who better than them to know how terrifying the Twelve Kizuki truly were? They were immortal monsters that only the Hashira stood a chance against, not ordinary Demon Slayers like themselves.
Thus, the moment Wakuraba appeared, the able-bodied Demon Slayers tensed to the breaking point, their minds immediately turning toward a desperate retreat.
Two of them were already wounded, and the third was teetering on the brink of death!
But wanting to flee was far different from being able to do so...
"Heh, I suppose it was worth following the scent of blood," Wakuraba remarked as he sauntered forward. He glanced first at the two Demon Slayers with their Nichirin Swords raised, then at the incapacitated third man nearby, and finally at Yeruashi, who was still focused on his treatment.
He loathed Demon Slayers to his very core.
"If you think about it, you'd be much better off just letting me eat you. Futile resistance is pointless; there’s no reason for pathetic humans to struggle against demons," Wakuraba complained as he approached.
Despite his seemingly unremarkable and sluggish movements, a dark aura gradually coalesced around the demon's form, instilling a visceral dread in the already petrified slayers.
The smell defied any simple or singular description.
It evoked a primal sense of revulsion and... horror.
As both the wife and assistant to the doctor, Mitsuri was constantly exposed to all sorts of medicines and unusual scents, but she had never encountered a stench quite like this. While it had been faint before, it was now intensifying exponentially.
"Ru... Run! Get out of here, Doctor!" the Demon Slayer who had brought Yeruashi gritted his teeth. He was already drenched in a cold sweat, his hands trembling as he gripped his Nichirin Sword.
He was the one who had dragged the doctor into this mess; he couldn't let him be harmed. At the very least, he had to buy time for them to escape.
It was exactly at those words that Wakuraba’s gaze locked onto Yeruashi.
"A doctor? I can't remember the last time I went to see a doctor, though I do recall being very ill in the distant past," the demon mused with cold detachment. He paused briefly before concluding, "However... the need for physicians has officially come to an end!"
Whoosh!
Immediately following his words, the Lower Moon vanished. He streaked past the two Demon Slayers like a bolt of lightning, reappearing directly in front of Yeruashi!
In the same motion, the demon's left hand lunged toward the doctor’s throat, his fingers morphing into a blade that glinted coldly in the darkness.
It felt as if the world itself had ground to a halt.
The able-bodied Demon Slayers looked back too late, realizing with horror that they were completely incapable of keeping up with Lower Rank Three.
Meanwhile, Mitsuri’s pistachio-colored eyes widened. She reacted instantly the moment she caught Wakuraba’s movement, her slender hand still clutching medical tweezers as she swung to intercept the demon's strike.
But she, too, was too slow!
Despite her timely reaction, the girl was still slower than the demon. She could only watch helplessly as Wakuraba’s clawed hand drew closer and closer to Yeruashi’s neck.
Swish!
A fleeting flash flickered in the darkness.
And a clean, precise cut appeared on the throat of the motionless Yeruashi.
"NO-O-O!" Mitsuri’s heart-wrenching scream tore through the night.
Frantically, she pulled her husband into her embrace, trying to cradle his head against her shoulder, but blood wouldn't stop gushing from the wound in his neck.
The torrent of blood instantly stained her a deep crimson.
And yet.
In her grief, Mitsuri failed to notice that Yeruashi’s gaze betrayed neither fear nor panic—only absolute peace and serenity.
"Damn it! Doctor!!!" the slayers snarled, finally lunging at the demon and the couple. Their rage had completely eclipsed their fear; the demon had just brutally murdered the doctor who had literally just pulled their comrade back from the afterlife.
The two of them fell upon Wakuraba in unison, swinging their Nichirin Swords desperately in an attempt to hack him to pieces. But Lower Rank Three simply stepped from side to side, toyfully dodging the flashing blades.
"Anger? Wonderful... simply wonderful. This emotion will give your meat a much more vibrant flavor," he said nonchalantly. He raised his hand, placing his index finger directly in the path of the two blades.
Ting!
A sharp metallic chime rang out.
The Nichirin Swords in the Demon Slayers' hands vibrated violently, nearly flying from their grip from that seemingly simple collision. Both men were sent hurtling back more than ten meters.
"Perhaps you'd like to decide for yourselves which one of you I should start with?" Wakuraba asked, lowering his shimmering index finger.
But right at that moment...
"Aaaaaaaah!" A loud feminine roar, overflowing with rage, regret, and self-loathing, erupted from behind the demon.
Mitsuri appeared directly behind Lower Rank Three, wielding a Nichirin Sword she had taken from the critically wounded man.
She poured every ounce of her fury, sorrow, and guilt into the blow, imbuing the blade with a level of power that was extraordinary even by her standards.
"Eh?" Wakuraba’s eyes narrowed as he felt a sudden, fleeting sense of danger. Without hesitation, he hardened his shoulders into a protective shield.
An instant later, the Nichirin Sword crashed against the steel-like shield created by the Lower Moon’s Blood Demon Art.
Boom!
The ground beneath Wakuraba’s feet shuddered and cracked under the force of the devastating impact, and a cloud of dust billowed outward.
The deadly blade bit into the steel shield right in front of his neck.
"Aaaaaaaaah!" As if in harmony with her furious cry, the blade that seemed to have been blocked suddenly sheared right through the steel shield!
The polished edge of the sword flashed in the darkness of the night, leaving a thin red line across the demon's shoulder that gradually began to split his entire body in two.
Lower Rank Three was cleaved in half!
Nearby, the others gasped!
The Demon Slayers' eyes nearly popped out of their heads in sheer astonishment.
It was hard to believe that a normal person, without the use of any Breathing Technique, had managed to overcome one of the Lower Moons—even accounting for the adrenaline-fueled rage and the surprise attack from behind!
If such a person were to become a Demon Slayer and master a Breathing Technique, they would easily reach the top rank of Kinoe and perhaps eventually claim a seat among the Hashira!
Meanwhile, the Nichirin Sword in Mitsuri’s hands went limp and touched the ground. Her body felt heavier than it ever had before; her glassy gaze dropped to the earth as the crimson blood on her cheeks mixed with her tears.
She hadn't protected Yeruashi well enough.
She should have stayed vigilant; she should have moved faster...
She had anticipated the danger and knew perfectly well how fragile Yeruashi was, yet she had still been careless—a lapse in judgment that had cost him his life.
Who could have guessed that this monster would completely ignore two armed men and lunged specifically for Yeruashi, let alone transform his hand into a lethal blade...
"Look out!" screams suddenly erupted from nearby.
It was the Demon Slayers.
However, by the time the grief-stricken Mitsuri snapped out of it and raised her head, a cold, shimmering blade was already hurtling toward her.
Even with her speed, it was too late to dodge.
That blade was extending from the cleaved demon!
He had definitely been sliced in half, yet the thin bloody line had mysteriously vanished, and his right hand had become a razor-sharp edge.
Wakuraba’s manic eyes burned with pure fury and malice!
The Demon Slayers tried to warn her, but it was already too late.
At first, they had never expected Mitsuri to be able to strike down Lower Rank Three, and then they hadn't expected her to lose her vigilance so completely.
They realized too late that this girl, who had no formal connection to the slayers, had no idea about the most basic rule: you must decapitate a demon to kill it...
And yet.
Just as the blade was inches from Mitsuri’s chest.
Another change occurred, unnoticed.
Neither the Demon Slayers, nor Mitsuri Kanroji, nor even the Twelve Kizuki himself realized it.
Right under their very noses...
The thick pool of crimson blood surrounding Yeruashi receded slightly.
And in his immeasurably deep eyes, the entire world was reflected.
'I want...'
'I want to experience this life just a little bit longer...'
'To think...'