"Is this as far as you can go?"
Yukinashi gasped for breath and lifted his eyes to the demon walking toward him.
The demon wore a purple-red short-sleeved shirt. His short hair was peach-colored, blue prayer beads hung from his ankles, and deep blue tattoos covered his deathly pale skin—resembling the punitive markings once used in ancient times to record crimes.
At this moment, the demon regarded him leisurely, without showing any obvious hostility. Yet Yukinashi's expression was heavier than ever. The reason was simple: within those dazzling golden eyes were clearly carved the characters Upper Moon: Two.
"Was that signal meant to notify your companions?" The demon with the engraved eyes smiled. "You even severed your own arm just to send it. Are you really confident you can last until then?"
Yukinashi glanced at his severed arm, regulated his breathing, and tightened the muscles around the wound to slow the bleeding. His expression remained cold.
"That's none of your concern."
"Hmph~ I just thought of a rather good proposal. How about it—care to hear me out?" The demon's tone was relaxed. "You're trying to buy time anyway, aren't you?"
Yukinashi frowned.
"…What are you trying to say?"
"Then let me introduce myself first. My name is Akaza. And yours?"
"…Yukinashi… Aoba."
"Then I'll be direct. Yukinashi, would you like to become a demon as well?"
"…Hah?" Yukinashi looked as if he had just heard an absurd joke. "Are you joking with me?"
"No. I'm quite serious."
"I'm a Demon Slayer—and a Hashira at that. How could I possibly become a demon?"
"I can sense the fighting spirit within you," Akaza said, spreading his hands, the smile never leaving his lips. "You're still far from the highest realm, but even so, you're already quite impressive. If you became a demon, you could continue growing stronger without limit, until you eventually touched that realm. Doesn't that sound tempting?"
"This is meaningless." Yukinashi held his sword in one hand and took a guarded stance. "If that's all you have to say, you might as well just fight me. I do want to become stronger—but not through something that violates my principles."
Akaza still showed no intention of attacking.
"If you want to become stronger, then why not become a demon? Demons have endless lifespans. Becoming stronger is merely a matter of time. Humans grow old, humans die—that's exactly why humans are inferior to demons."
"Being weaker than others is indeed humiliating," Yukinashi said calmly. "But for someone with ordinary talent like me, whether I fall behind my seniors or am surpassed by my juniors is only natural.
"Birth, aging, sickness, and death—those are precisely the traits of the living, the proof of being human. I take pride in being human."
His expression grew solemn.
"And if I were to choose becoming a demon, I'd be betraying my own convictions. If I can't even uphold my beliefs, then what reason would I have to continue pursuing the martial path?
"To seek strength without reason, to pursue it at any cost yet be unable to explain why—that only proves the emptiness and inferiority in your heart.
"If you're truly interested in me, then show me your strength and kill me. At least then, on the level of martial arts, I could offer you a word of praise—instead of the genuine contempt your words inspire now.
"In short, no matter what you say, I will never choose to become a demon. Put away your thoughts of recruiting me."
Akaza fell silent for a moment, then laughed again. He planted his feet apart, lowered his center of gravity, clenched one fist at his waist, and raised the other palm level with his body.
"I see. Looks like words won't reach you. In that case, I'll have no choice but to kill you. Still… you really are an irritating fellow."
"How coincidental. I don't like you either—and you're wrong about one thing."
"Hm?" Akaza halted, the technique forming beneath his feet dispersing. "What did I get wrong?"
"You stopped being human long ago." Milky-white breath spilled from Yukinashi's lips. "So it's not that I'm irritating—I'm simply irritating to demons. You're no longer worthy of being called human."
The smile vanished from Akaza's face. Beneath his feet, a pale blue snowflake-like pattern spread out as he burst forward in a blur.
"You really piss me off!"
Yukinashi pivoted sharply, his blade rotating with his movement as he swung upward—
"Wind Breathing, Fourth Form: Rising Dust Storm!"
In an instant, five claw-like wind blades tore free from the sword and flew toward the charging Akaza.
Yet Akaza forced his way straight through the attack. Even as the wind blades carved into his body, the grin on his face remained wild and unrestrained.
"Pathetic! What a pathetically weak attack! Come on, Aoba—while you're still young, die carrying this regret that you'll never grow stronger!"
"The one who should die here is you!"
Blade and fists finally collided, releasing a piercing metallic shriek. Dust and debris billowed outward from the clash, and in the next moment, the two were locked in fierce combat.
But compared to Akaza's torrential, storm-like assault, Yukinashi—fighting with only one arm—was far more hard-pressed. After hundreds of exchanges, his defense finally faltered, and Akaza seized the opening, sending him flying with a single punch.
"See?" Akaza said, not pressing the attack, instead walking slowly toward the Yukinashi who was struggling back to his feet. "This is how weak human strength is. That's exactly why it's only natural for demons to defeat humans!
"So become a demon. Grow strong enough, then challenge me again. Otherwise, all that awaits you is a miserable death like this!"
Yukinashi spat out blood along with broken teeth and worked to steady his breathing. He didn't answer immediately.