What is this even?!
Sakoma Iori was sprinting through the forest, and behind her, a demon nearly as tall as the surrounding trees lumbered along in pursuit.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
It was massive—an existence that absolutely shouldn't have appeared in a place like this.
Its entire body was covered in hands, layered over one another like armor, shielding every inch of flesh beneath. Its neck—usually a demon's weak point—was especially well-protected, wrapped tightly in hands that made it nearly impossible for an average swordsman to sever it.
Why the hell is this happening to me?! Iori screamed internally as she ran.
She had woken up only to find the sun had already set. That damned red-haired brat had disappeared who knows when, and the worst part? He had even gone out of his way to erase his tracks, leaving her no way to trace him with her observational skills.
Seriously… does he hate me that much?
Knowing that Takeo had long since left, Sakoma Iori couldn't help but grumble inwardly.
It wasn't like she had to stick to him. It was just coincidence they'd run into each other on the way here, just coincidence they'd fought a powerful demon with a Blood Demon Art together and saved some children.
And also just coincidence...
That red-haired brat reminded her of her younger brother.
That was all.
...Okay, fine. Iori was lying.
The real reason she kept tagging along with Takeo wasn't just because they'd fought together — it was because she saw a shadow of her younger brother in him.
But there was no way she could ever say that out loud.
That foul-mouthed brat would probably mock her to death if she did.
So she kept that truth buried in her heart, telling herself she'd just spend a bit more time with him, then leave once she got sick of him.
Strangely enough though, even though they constantly bickered over the past few days, Iori just couldn't bring herself to actually dislike him.
Even though his personality was nothing like her brother's — sharp-tongued, overly mature, sometimes speaking like a grumpy old man despite looking so young.
Totally unlike her sweet little brother, who used to call her "Oneesan, Oneesan" and cling to her all the time.
Yet no matter what, Iori just couldn't bring herself to dislike him.
Maybe it was because he was still so young.
That's what she sometimes thought.
Because he was young, it was easier to forgive him for everything. And maybe because he was young and still chose to join the Demon Slayer Corps, Iori always had a lingering suspicion… that there was a painful story behind that brat's determination.
That was probably the real reason.
Iori wanted to get along with him peacefully, but that brat didn't seem to appreciate it one bit.
After eating so many of her rice crackers, he just left the next morning without a second thought!
Booo Hoo!
Did he even realize that those rice crackers were the last ones she had left?
There were still five days left on this mountain, and now she had no food. Who knew if there was anything edible in this place…
Muttering with resentment about Takeo, Iori carried on with her Final Selection.
But when night fell, her nightmare began.
She encountered that demon — the grotesque one with a massive body nearly the size of the surrounding trees, its flesh completely covered in arms.
And then, it started chasing her.
Before charging, it even muttered something like, "Oh? Isn't this my adorable little fox?"
Although it followed up with, "…Tch, just a random girl wearing a familiar mask," it had already set its sights on Iori — and no matter how far or fast she ran, it refused to let her go.
The Hand Demon was incredibly powerful and terrifyingly fast. Iori had tried to strike it once, just to test it—but her blade hadn't even left a scratch.
So she'd made the only sensible choice: run.
But it was just like a cat toying with a mouse—the demon chased her at a deliberately short distance. It looked like she could escape at any moment, but in reality, the gap between them never widened at all.
"Why is there such a strong demon here?! This is supposed to be a test, right?! This isn't a test—it's fucking a death sentence!!"
To vent her fear, Iori rambled on internally with rising frustration.
The Hand Demon didn't seem to possess a Blood Demon Art, but that hardly mattered. Its raw strength and monstrous body alone far outclassed the demon woman Iori had fought before.
So what if it didn't have supernatural abilities? Just that grotesque body covered in arms—with its overwhelming physical defense—was more than enough to dominate the entire mountain.
For a demon like this to be on Mount Fujikasane… something had to be wrong.
Iori couldn't help but wonder darkly—was this deliberate? Did someone put this monster here to kill off the examinees?
But no matter how much she cursed or complained, she couldn't shake the Hand Demon off her trail.
And now, it seemed the demon had grown bored of the chase.
"Owuhaha, running back and forth, back and forth—you're really getting on my nerves. I'm bored now, so the game's over, little fox!!"
Several of the demon's arms suddenly flew outward—those arms stretched and twisted at impossible angles, lunging toward Iori with incredible speed!
She couldn't see clearly, couldn't dodge in time, and there was no way she could cut through them!
In the span of a heartbeat, Iori knew—those arms were too tough to slice, and with how fast the Hand Demon attacked, she had no chance of avoiding them.
But… she couldn't give up!
During her fight with the demon woman, Iori had remembered what her cultivator grandfather once told her—in battles between life and death, the things you recall will etch themselves deeper into your being. That lesson stayed with her.
And now, Iori refused to give in.
Even if it was just a single swing—perhaps that might be enough to turn the tide!
Time seemed to slow. In that final split second, Iori caught a faint glimpse of the Hand Demon's movement.
Water surged—her body moved like a stream.
Iori slashed out with her blade in an instant! The flowing current of water twisted between the demon's outstretched arms!
Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance!
"Hm?"
Iori's silhouette wove through the glint of water. Miraculously, she escaped the grasp of the Hand Demon's attack—and even left a deep, bone-revealing gash across one of its outstretched arms.
The Hand Demon let out a surprised grunt—but then burst into gleeful laughter:
"Kehehehe… I thought you were just some fake fox who picked up a discarded mask… But that move of yours… it's just like my adorable little foxes… Ah, how lucky! It's been so long since I've seen someone with a fox mask use that technique… This is… this is…"
The many hands on his body writhed with excitement, clawing at his skin as he laughed maniacally:
"This is truly delightful!!!"
"…"
Fox mask…
Iori's mouth twitched.
That damn red-haired brat really jinxed her—this mask was actually unlucky!
Damn his cursed mouth!
Would tossing the mask aside now make the demon let her go?
That thought barely flickered through her mind before Iori crushed it.
She didn't throw the mask away. In fact, she held it tighter against her body.
She wouldn't beg a demon for mercy. She wouldn't yield.
Even if this mask had somehow drawn in a nightmare like this, she refused to cast it away.
Because the mask wasn't wrong. And neither were those who once wore it.
The one at fault—was this man-eating demon who had devoured who knows how many innocent lives!
Iori wasn't wrong.
The ones who wore the fox masks weren't wrong either. And if there was no wrongdoing… then there was no reason to discard it.
No reason to give up!
Let's try. Let's give it a shot…
While the demon was caught up in his frenzy, distracted by excitement—Could she strike? Could she slice through that neck?
Just one chance.
In the blink of an eye, a storm of thoughts raced through Iori's mind—And amid them all, she made her decision.
With a breath, power surged into her legs.
Water coiled around the tip of her blade.
In the next heartbeat, Iori launched herself forward!
Water Breathing, First Form—
She shot through the forest of hands, leaping into the air.
A horizontal slash traced a ripple of water across the demon's thickly guarded neck!
—Water Surface Slash!
CRACK!
Her blade bit into the hand-covered neck! Blood sprayed!
She landed a hit!!
Iori felt a flash of joy...
But that joy was quickly overtaken by terror.
Though her blade had struck and sunk in, it wouldn't go any deeper.
It wouldn't cut through.
The countless hands shielding the Hand Demon's neck were too tough—far too tough.
Her sword couldn't advance even another inch.
In fact, Cracks were beginning to appear along the blade.
"Hehehe… You came right to me, huh?"
The Hand Demon sneered.
A swarm of hands latched onto Iori's body, gripping tight—pressing, squeezing with growing force.
" Aaaaahhhhhhhhh—!!! "
Pain exploded from every corner of her body.
Bones groaned under pressure, organs were crushed, her lungs emptied with the force—
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't use her Breathing Technique.
She couldn't move.
She—
She was going to die!
Her consciousness blurred. Overwhelmed by agony, Iori felt death slowly creeping in.
She shut her eyes.
_______
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