The weight of Shin Arashi's words settled like a blade against the neck of the monstrous Hand Demon.
"Make that sound again… and I'll silence you forever."
The demon's grin froze, and then twisted into rage.
"You, filthy insect!" the Hand Demon snarled, voice rising with fury. "How dare you speak to me like that! Just like your master—Urokodaki Sakonji—you reek of arrogance and make me sick!"
Its arms twitched and writhed, twitching from the residual damage. When it looked down, it noticed something strange.
The wounds weren't healing.
For the first time in years, the Hand Demon felt… fear.
"What is this? Why isn't it regenerating? What did you do to me?!"
Shin Arashi didn't answer. He just tilted his head slightly, a smirk ghosting across his lips.
"What's wrong? Scared?" he taunted, voice calm and cold. "So even monsters like you can panic. Pathetic."
That mocking tone—so dismissive, so casual—shredded the last of the Hand Demon's composure.
"UNFORGIVABLE! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL RIP YOU TO PIECES!"
Enraged beyond reason, the Hand Demon turned on its own allies. With a frenzied roar, it began devouring the surrounding demons, dragging them into its gaping maw. Fangs tore through flesh, and screams echoed into the dark woods as one demon after another was consumed.
The rest of the demons scattered in terror, fleeing into the night.
Shin didn't stop them. He simply watched.
Now wasn't the time. Letting them go now was better than facing a coordinated swarm later. And the Hand Demon's cannibalism had solved that problem for him.
Within seconds, more than a dozen demons had been devoured.
With each body it consumed, the Hand Demon grew—its form warping grotesquely. Dozens of new arms sprouted across its body, some twitching erratically, others cracking as they stretched unnaturally. Its frame doubled in size, veins bulging like snakes beneath its sickly skin.
And then—
The wounds healed. Instantly.
"Chichichichi~"
The Hand Demon laughed again—low and triumphant, echoing through the trees. Its new power radiated like a storm.
Shin Arashi's brows knit, just slightly. His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened.
"Tanjiro," he said sharply, eyes still locked on the monstrous figure ahead. "Find cover. Hide. Wait for the right moment, and if you see an opening—strike. But leave this freak to me for now."
Tanjiro didn't argue.
"Yes, Senior Shin. Be careful."
He vanished into the underbrush, vanishing from view but not from the fight.
Shin exhaled slowly, his tone growing colder.
This wasn't supposed to go this way. If the Hand Demon hadn't devoured its own kind, Shin would've let Tanjiro face it himself. It would've been the perfect test of growth.
But now?
Now the demon had reached a level where any direct encounter would mean Tanjiro's death.
Even Shin, for all his skill, knew the line between confidence and recklessness. And he had no intention of losing someone under his protection.
Still…
His smirk returned.
"You've eaten your own kind just to survive," he murmured. "How desperate you must be."
He drew his blade.
"Let's see if that gluttony makes you harder to kill—or just uglier."