Haruto sprinted along the mountain path, his mind laser-focused. In this state, it was almost effortless to engage his lungs and enter Total Concentration Breathing.
His vision, however, was flooded with a barrage of floating comments.
[Major tragedy ahead!]
[Tomioka-style grief incoming!]
[Ahhh, I'll kill you!]
[If Sabito hadn't wiped out nearly all the demons on the mountain, he wouldn't have died from exhaustion and a broken blade…]
[With Sabito dead, everyone else from his group gets a free pass!]
Will he die? That boy with the fox mask?
The words floating before Haruto felt like prophecy—a recounting of history he was currently living through. But history wasn't set in stone, was it? If it were, what was the point of trying to change it?
In the distance, he spotted a flash of blue steel gleaming amidst the grotesque, dark-green claws of the Hand Demon.
Would Haruto's intervention, now part of this world of floating commentary, alter what was supposed to happen?
Planting his foot firmly against the ground, Haruto's mind wandered to his last encounter with the Hand Demon. Back then, it had been Sabito who charged to his rescue. Now, it seemed their roles were reversed.
Up ahead, Sabito's graceful movements brought him face-to-face with the Hand Demon. His blade shimmered before it struck—only to shatter.
A sharp, resounding clang rang out as the sword broke into fragments.
In that critical moment, Haruto didn't even notice that the comments had vanished. He sprang forward with all his might, hot air bursting from his nostrils. His blade ignited with flames as he unleashed the technique, Unknown Fire. It tore through the air with unstoppable force, severing the monstrous claw reaching for Sabito's head.
Sabito froze for only a fraction of a second before he adjusted his stance, springing over the Hand Demon's massive body and landing behind it. Despite wielding only a broken blade, he positioned it defensively in front of him.
The two youths, one cloaked in fire, the other in a fluid, water-like grace, formed an unspoken pact—a pincer formation encircling the massive demon.
Haruto's expression remained calm, almost detached, but internally, his spirit quivered. The memory of being impaled by the Hand Demon's claws felt too real. Just meeting its malevolent, venom-yellow gaze made him shudder.
"How disappointing," the Hand Demon sneered. Its beady eyes darted between the two boys. "What will you do now, little fox cub? Your blade is broken. What will you use to block my attacks?"
Its eerie laughter echoed through the clearing. "Hehehehe… Urokodaki's apprentices—all cursed with those laughable fox masks and such pitiful swords. Did he really think those gifts would protect you? Hehehehe…"
Haruto blinked in confusion. Who was Urokodaki? The way Sabito's face paled, though, made it clear this was someone important to him.
Sabito's icy blue eyes betrayed no pity, only a cold loathing.
The Hand Demon's pupils shrank. A memory clawed its way to the surface of its mind—those eyes. They were the same as the man behind the tengu mask who had captured it decades ago.
"Urokodaki…!"
A guttural scream erupted from the Hand Demon as it slammed the ground repeatedly with its countless arms.
"Damn you, Urokodaki! Forty years, and you still haunt me!"
It no longer focused on Sabito. Its rage fixated solely on Haruto.
With a bloodcurdling roar, the demon launched a flurry of hands toward him.
"Look out!" Sabito's urgent warning overlapped with a voice from Haruto's memories. Dodging the barrage, Haruto felt his body instinctively move.
Why is this thing so aggressive? What did I even say to set it off? Did I say anything?
Haruto struggled against the relentless onslaught. Though his Total Concentration Breathing faltered, his swordsmanship shone. Twisting mid-air, he sliced through another wave of clawed limbs.
"Boy," the Hand Demon growled, its voice dripping with malice, "you can sever my arms, but you can't defeat me."
Haruto's breathing grew labored. His limbs ached, and his vision blurred.
He'd always felt at odds with Flame Breathing. No matter how much he trained, his body rejected prolonged use of it. His master had called him a prodigy with the sword, but in this era of man-eating demons, skill alone wasn't enough.
Haruto's lips tightened as he ducked under another claw swipe. His opponent's sinister gaze bore down on him, mocking his every movement.
The Hand Demon smirked, sensing an opening. It lunged with all its might, aiming to crush Haruto completely.
But the boy twisted, and just as the demon's limbs bore down, Sabito's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"Water Breathing—Fourth Form…!"
Sabito emerged like a torrent, his broken blade flowing with an otherworldly grace. The demon's glee turned to horror.
"Impossible! Your sword is…"
"Striking Tide!"
The broken sword carved through the demon's neck. The world spun for the Hand Demon as its massive body began to disintegrate into ash.
Even in death, its final attack landed. One of its hands struck Haruto squarely, sending him sprawling. He groaned, crumpling into the dirt.
"We did it… finally," he murmured, forcing a pained smile as he stared at the demon's vanishing form.
Sabito landed gracefully beside him, his expression clouded with concern. "Are you okay?"
The pink-haired boy's furrowed brow and kind tone made Haruto realize: the comments had been right. Sabito was incredibly gentle.
"I'll survive," Haruto muttered.
A faint whisper drew their attention. The Hand Demon's disintegrating head murmured, "Unfair… so unfair…"
Its words grew louder, more pained. "I gave up so much to gain this strength… And that damn Urokodaki, always in my way…"
The demon's eyes filled with tears, the hatred giving way to sorrow.
"And that man… the one who turned me into this monster…" It shuddered. "I… I even ate my own brother…"
Sabito's icy gaze didn't waver. "You did this to yourself."
For the first time, the Hand Demon's tears spilled freely.
"Brother… wait for me… hold my hand…"
The last of its form crumbled into ash, leaving only silence.
...
Pls drop some Power Stones