Along the rugged mountain path, wooden stakes stained with dried blood were embedded into the rocks—each one a whole tree trunk with both ends chopped off.
A thick stench of blood hung over the area as Tendo ascended the path. The scenery blurred past, but the foul odor lingered stubbornly.
It was disgusting, like the stench of corpses rotting for days.
Suddenly, a human head flashed in his peripheral vision. He halted abruptly, stopping right before one of the stakes. The gruesome sight before him sent his blood pressure skyrocketing, his eyes burning red.
Atop the stake, a head was impaled by a Nichirin Blade. Though the face was unrecognizable, the sword identified its owner—a Demon Slayer Corps swordsman who had come to investigate not long ago.
"Damn it, you bastard!"
Tendo cursed furiously, clenching his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. At this moment, his rage was volcanic, erupting uncontrollably in his chest.
That damned demon had tormented his comrade so cruelly.
He pressed onward, his vision clouded by fury. At regular intervals, he found more heads nailed to stakes.
The closer he got to the summit, the more decomposed the heads became, rendering the swordsmen's original features indistinguishable.
His anger deepened, yet he remained composed—though his killing intent grew sharper.
To die in battle was one thing, but to have their corpses desecrated like this? Tendo had never been this enraged in his life.
He counted—only sixteen heads. Excluding the three survivors at the foot of the mountain, one was still missing.
Could there be another survivor?
Driven by the question, he charged to the summit. There, a wooden tower several meters tall loomed before him. Hanging from its front, facing the path, was a boy in Demon Slayer Corps uniform.
It was none other than Murata—the one who had defiantly cursed Lower Two. He wasn't dead yet, because Lower Two wanted to watch him die in despair.
"Mr. Tendo… it's you!" Murata lifted his bloodied head, his hoarse voice brimming with hope. After all, Tendo was the strongest of their generation.
His scalp was bare, every strand of hair forcibly ripped out by Lower Two. Blood soaked his uniform—evidence of inhuman torture.
Yet, Murata remained unafraid of death, even hurling insults at Lower Two all day.
Seeing Murata's wretched state, Tendo's fury erupted. He scanned the surroundings viciously for any sign of Lower Two.
"You bastard! Where are you hiding?!"
"You'd better not let me find you—or I'll carve you into pieces!"
When Lower Two still refused to show itself, Tendo moved to rescue Murata. But the instant he took a step, a razor-sharp finger pressed against Murata's throat. The slightest movement would kill him.
Bathed in moonlight atop the wooden tower, a monkey-like figure revealed itself—the long-armed ape.
The reason Tendo hadn't detected it earlier? Its Blood Demon Art: Tree Concealment.As long as it didn't attack proactively, it would conceal itself among the trees. This was also the reason it had built the wooden tower atop the mountain—to create a battlefield advantageous to itself.
"Humans, just die obediently!"
"Aren't you all so afraid of death?"
"In the face of death, you grovel, despair, tremble—you'd do anything to survive!"
"Humans are creatures terrified of death!"
The long-armed demon looked down from above, gazing at Tendo with nothing but contempt in its eyes.
At this moment, it believed itself to be a god, for it held the lives of those beneath the tower in its grasp.
"A Hashira, huh? Drop your sword, or I'll kill this guy right now!"
As soon as it finished speaking, Murata mustered the last of his strength and shouted:
"Mr. Tendo, don't worry about me!"
"Kill him! Avenge everyone!"
"Shut up!"
The long-armed demon slapped Murata unconscious, already reveling in the grand drama it had orchestrated.
If the Hashira dropped his sword, it would shatter his hopes right before his eyes.
If the Hashira didn't drop his sword, it would immediately kill the human in front of it. Surely, the Hashira had already seen the surprise it had prepared for him.
Seeing the heads of his comrades impaled on wooden stakes must have infuriated him.
The thought of tormenting a Hashira who wanted to kill it but couldn't only amplified the demon's sadistic pleasure.
After all, no matter how fast that Hashira was, he couldn't possibly be faster than it while it held a hostage.
"I'll give you three seconds to think!"
"1."
"3."
"Time's up!"
Tendo's hands trembled uncontrollably, as if he had Parkinson's, feigning extreme nervousness. Yet his eyes remained fixed unwaveringly on the long-armed demon as he declared resolutely:
"Don't kill him—I'll drop it!"
Seeing the other's submissive demeanor, the mockery in the demon's eyes deepened, its delight swelling.
Tendo bent down, and the moment his sword left his hand, he suddenly stared behind Lower Two and screamed in terror.
"Muzan Kibutsuji! Y-you... why are you here?!"
Muzan Kibutsuji—that name was taboo among demons. Combined with Tendo's convincing acting, the long-armed demon was stunned.
It genuinely believed its supreme leader had arrived.
In that split second of distraction, Tendo tightened his grip on his sword, his gaze turning resolute.
The ground beneath his feet abruptly cracked, as if unable to withstand his overwhelming power. With a thunderous boom, Tendo shot forward like a cannonball, hurtling toward the wooden tower at an astonishing speed.
Everything happened too suddenly—the long-armed demon didn't even have time to react.
Viewed from the night sky, Tendo resembled a blazing streak of crimson-gold fire, his trailing flames splitting the mountaintop in two.
With a deafening crash, the wooden tower shattered into pieces. The arm the long-armed demon had used to restrain Murata was severed, and the demon itself plummeted from the tower's peak, where it had once lorded over everything.
Even as it happened, it felt like a dream.
How dare he?!
The hostage was still in my hands—where did he get the confidence?
How the hell did this bastard know the master's name?
The long-armed demon was utterly bewildered. Why wasn't things going according to its script?
Tendo hastily poured a bottle of "Save-Your-Life 3000" down Murata's throat before swiftly hiding him in the mountain's thickets. Then, he turned and strode toward Lower Two.The panic and fear on his face vanished in an instant, replaced by a mocking expression akin to a gibbon's. Mimicking the other's tone, he jeered,
"I'm telling you, I'll save the person, and you'll definitely die!"
"Have you decided how many pieces you want to be shattered into?"
"I've decided to let you experience the long-lost sun!"
The long-armed ape stood amidst scattered broken logs, glaring at Tendo with furious humiliation, howling in rage.
"Liar! You damn liar!"
"Treacherous human! How dare you deceive me with the master's name—aaaahhh!"
It clawed frantically at its own fur, its egg-sized eyes bulging nearly out of their sockets.
Tendo smirked, dragging out his words in a deliberately mocking tone:
"Ehhh~!!"
"Yeah, I am treacherous!"
"What're you gonna do about it?"
"Hit me, come on, hit me!"
He taunted the ape relentlessly, pushing it to the brink of explosion like a powder keg.
To think a human had played it for a fool.