"AAAAAAAH!!!"
Some of the youths couldn't withstand such an overwhelmingly brutal scene. Their minds completely collapsed as they let out hysterical screams before turning and fleeing madly down the mountain.
Those with slightly stronger mental fortitude were still vomiting violently, retching until their bodies went limp. They could only brace themselves by pressing their backs tightly against tree trunks to avoid collapsing altogether.
Most of them had never truly fought a demon before. When faced with such blood-soaked carnage, their reactions were no different from ordinary people.
That was precisely why so many rookies died on Mount Fujikasane every year.
Aside from lacking strength, insufficient mental resilience was just as fatal a weakness.
This year's Final Selection carried a far heavier stench of blood than usual.
In previous years, it was always the humans who bled—but this time, more than half the demons on Mount Fujikasane had already fallen beneath Chu Yang's blade.
There were no demons left nearby that dared to lurk in the shadows and observe him. They could faintly sense that even during brief lulls in battle, Chu Yang would occasionally glance toward their hiding places.
"That little girl—no idea where she ran off to," Chu Yang exhaled deeply, feeling some fatigue. None of the demons he'd faced had posed any real threat, but even slaughtering demons nonstop would wear anyone down.
"Forget it. If I manage to save her, it's fate. If not… then maybe this is just her destiny."
Chu Yang slung the zanbatō back onto his shoulder, glanced once more at the group of youths too terrified to even stand, then turned and left.
Even if they survived and made it off Mount Fujikasane, he suspected many of them would still choose to give up, abandoning any thoughts of joining the Demon Slayer Corps.
Nearly six hours had passed since nightfall. At most, there were only one or two hours left before dawn.
The killing intent and blood aura surrounding Chu Yang were so dense they nearly pierced the sky itself. No demon—no matter how strange or vicious—dared approach him.
Just as Chu Yang was about to give up searching for Makomo, his nose suddenly caught a stench far stronger than anything he'd encountered before—far worse than the young demon he'd met at the temple that day.
The Hand Demon!
Instinct told Chu Yang that this was the Hand Demon's scent, and he immediately headed toward its source.
The farther he went, the more he saw shattered tree trunks and cracked forest ground. It was clearly a battlefield, and the two combatants seemed to have been moving steadily deeper into the forest.
Chu Yang continued forward…
"I've eaten twelve of Urokodaki's disciples already. Little fox, you'll be the thirteenth. It's only been a year since I devoured the last brat."
"Heeheehee…"
The Hand Demon let out smug, grating laughter as it taunted Makomo. "You lot really love wearing those masks when you come to die. Otherwise, I might not even recognize who you are."
"For you, they're masks that ward off calamity? Hahahaha! How is that any different from Urokodaki killing you with his own hands? How utterly ironic!"
Makomo's entire body trembled. Every word from the Hand Demon was like a sharp spike stabbing straight into her heart. Especially after hearing the full account of Sabito's death from the demon's own mouth, her mental state began to crumble.
"Shut up! It's not like that!" Makomo shouted. "Urokodaki-sensei gave us those masks so we could return safely!"
"I won't allow you to insult Urokodaki-sensei like that!"
Tears shimmered at the corners of Makomo's eyes as she roared in fury.
But in losing her composure, her breathing became disordered.
Once known for her agility, her movements slowed. The situation—previously in her favor—was instantly reversed.
Her mind was in chaos, and her form deteriorated badly.
The cunning Hand Demon seized the opening and launched a fatal attack at the girl whose heart had wavered.
The arms wrapped around its head all spread out and shot toward Makomo. Each arm possessed tremendous strength—precisely why it was called the Hand Demon.
By the time Makomo reacted, it was already too late.
She desperately tried to escape the encirclement, but her legs were still caught by the demon's arms.
"Hahahaha!!!"
"I told you—I'd slaughter every last one of Urokodaki's disciples! You're no exception!"
The exhilarated Hand Demon applied just a bit more force, and a bone-chilling scream tore from Makomo's throat. Her legs felt as though they were clamped in a massive vise, on the verge of being torn apart.
"Die, brat!"
The moment the words left its mouth, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air—something heavy was flying toward it at terrifying speed.
The Hand Demon shuddered in alarm.
In the next instant, an absurdly massive zanbatō flew past its face, spraying blood everywhere.
The arms restraining Makomo were severed simultaneously!
"AAAAAAAH!!!"
The unimaginable pain sent the Hand Demon into an instant frenzy. It spun around wildly, roaring in rage:
"Who did that?! Which bastard was it?!"
"Pretty scary-looking," Chu Yang said casually as he leapt out from the shadows, landing beside the zanbatō. He even kicked away one of the severed arms on the ground.
Hoisting the blade onto his shoulder, he chuckled. "Let me tidy you up a bit. You might not look quite so ugly afterward."
After mocking the Hand Demon, Chu Yang glanced at Makomo lying on the ground. The girl had lost consciousness, yet her face still bore an unconscious expression of pain—it was obvious she'd been injured when the demon grabbed her.
"Cut it a little close," Chu Yang sighed. "But at least she's alive."
"Don't get cocky! Both of you are going to die!" In just that short span of time, most of the Hand Demon's severed arms had already regenerated. It roared and charged at Chu Yang, its massive body like a human tank.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The ground shook violently.
Chu Yang gripped the zanbatō with both hands, his blood growing scalding hot with each breath.
As it surged through his body, streams of white vapor poured from his mouth and nose.
He kicked off the ground hard, cracking the earth beneath his feet, and shot forward like a cannonball—slamming shoulder-first into the Hand Demon.
The demon, which had been brimming with momentum, couldn't even stay upright. It staggered backward, completely losing its balance and exposing countless openings.
Before the arms on its body could even attempt to defend, its head was severed in a single slash.
The head flew into the air, staring straight at Chu Yang with eyes full of disbelief.
As its life sank into complete darkness, the Hand Demon's voice was filled with regret and unwillingness.
"Impossible… Humans shouldn't possess this kind of power…"
It had believed its body to be as hard as steel—yet before Chu Yang, it was no sturdier than paper.
"Hoo…" Chu Yang wiped the sweat from his brow. After staying busy all night, it finally felt like he'd finished warming up.
After killing the Hand Demon, Chu Yang lifted the unconscious Makomo. Just before leaving, he sensed something watching him from the unseen depths.
It was probably the souls of Urokodaki Sakonji's fallen disciples…
If only he'd arrived a few years earlier—he might have saved even more young lives.
Carrying Makomo on his shoulder, Chu Yang made a circuit around Mount Fujikasane. Using Observation Haki, he locked onto two demons that had devoured large numbers of their own kind and promptly beheaded them.
They weren't as powerful as the Hand Demon, but they were far beyond what rookies could handle.
Over the next seven days, Chu Yang continued hunting down demons that had grown to a dangerous level. The stench of blood on Mount Fujikasane became far thicker than in any previous year.
(End of Chapter)