Ask to Join Demon Slayer Rp

[E.K.A.N.S.]

Sena swung her katana back and flung it into the air. The blade flipped several times before it stuck in the ground and distracted the director, who would've pressed Kit to further disarm.

"Nope. Not a thing," she replied, grinning innocently and getting down on her knees in surrender. Emboldened, the counselor strutted over, grabbed the girl's hair, and slammed that scarfed smile into the dirt.

"There is no hope! I'll consume you like the evil demon I am!" he cheered, savoring the moment and kneading her face into the earth. He held Sena by her icy blue locks and returned the slayer to her knees. The imp children had crowded Kit, so all he could do was watch idly. "...Is how I'd put it so you could understand. But I'm not here to indulge my appetite. No, I'll consume you and reunite your body with mine, my sweet child. I've run this camp for many years, drawing in kids from across the country and realizing upon eating them that they weren't my own. I haven't found my little ones yet, but I've grown strong. So you would've lost even if you'd kept your weapon! All my bodies share my power! You're outnumbered and outmatched!"

The girl's half-lidded, menacing eyes simply stared up at her enemy, focusing on the fiend's every utterance and the subtlest bodily movements that formed it, playing back whole phrases in her mind and stopping their individual parts as they passed, frisking them for mistruths. The job of a demon slayer was inherently difficult. She couldn't ignore the chance that the possessed humans could be saved, but she also couldn't trust a demon's every word. As she evaluated past predicaments against present observations, Sena realized that something didn't add up. If the director was so sure of his advantage, why had he coerced the slayers into disarming first? Why were they only learning of Rurona's immense power when they were no longer in a position to retaliate?

Bullies. Sena knew them all too well. She'd been an isolated child who only left the home to run errands for her family, and every solitary walk in the streets invited groups of kids to pick on her, snatch her doll and make her beg them to give it back, pull her hair and mock its color, lash out at her for apparently thinking she was too good to play with them. They always demanded the same—that she not fight back and submit willingly, because bullies were cowards whose only strength came from others' weakness. And Rurona was no different.

"I yield," Sena muttered, setting her eyes on the demon's neck. "I couldn't help but notice, though... that you're more talkative in this body than your old one. You've gone from screams and wails to full sentences in such a short time."

"What are you impl-"

The kneeling girl was suddenly in a striking position, shutting the fiend up with a full-force throat punch. The monster stumbled back, choking on a writhing yellow appendage that peeked from his mouth and stifled his curses.

"I'm implying," the girl answered, "that you're all talk. If you could do anything else, you'd have killed me already. But if all your bodies serve a purpose, then that makes you the communicator. Those with real abilities aren't saying much."

She ripped out the tentacle and caused the director to collapse.

"Leeches, huh? So that's how you're controlling people," she concluded, tossing it into the fire. "The downside to having multiple vessels is that if one of you feels pain, so do the rest."

Sena looked up from the fallen counselor and confirmed that the imps were reeling from her blow. She leapt for her sword and rushed the children as they recovered, forcing a clash and preventing their master from playing with their lives a safe distance away. But one of the speedy devils sprung to action and jumped back, materializing water around his arm and shooting it out at her. The slayer evaded and ran parallel to the fluid limb, lifting her dragging blade once she neared the monster's physical arm and plunging it into a lump under the skin. The liquid dropped like rain and the fiend staggered, shrieking as his appendage sprayed purple leech blood.

"So you were the right arm..." Sena deduced when the shower stopped and the creature lay motionless on the floor. She looked over at Kit and saw, despite the foes who still surrounded them, a comfortable end to their mission now that Rurona no longer had a voice to make threats. "That sword I told you to put away, take it out and cut the demons' weak spots. Quickly."

~~~

The fire poker was still alive, thwarted for a second but soon resuming its flight. This time, the weapon headed for Phyra directly instead of bouncing between different paths and disorienting her first. The demon's goal was to push her back to the wall, where a chest waited to swallow her and snap shut. Basano compelled more tools at the girl from every direction she didn't want her going and beckoned the open-mouthed trunk forward. If everything worked in her favor, the box would close on a distracted slayer from behind.

Basano herself wasn't moved. Not by a physical force, and not by Kazu's speech. His unmanipulable resolve was his only strength, for if he were good at anything else, he'd have made the fiend reveal herself and not demanded it.

"Stubborn fools can't be swayed, but they're fools nonetheless. I still have plenty of toys at my disposal, so if you think you've forced me to show myself, you're mistaken," the fiend replied, removing the tiles under Kazu's feet and creating a pitfall. She'd slide them back into place and wedge his neck between the floorboards just before he could drop to the room below. Her plan was to reduce Kazu to a talking head in the ground, and though she'd only set it in motion, Basano was already celebrating. An expensive bottle of liquor that had rested on a nightstand now swiveled in the air and sprayed the battlefield. "Have a drink! It's your last chance to drown the pain and sorrow I'm about to put you through."​

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

"Sorry, but I don't drink during the fight" Kazu said politely and he pierced a wall with his sword, before he falls to certain death. He managed to escape from a pitfall, but it would be a lie, if he said that he wasn't scared for a second. "I hoped that you will respect my laziness and just come out to us.. So I have to do actual work? What a pain..." he said and glanced at Phyra "Let's do some teamwork finally. How do you like a sound of it? Sixth Style: Electric lightning shower!"
He made a lot of ranged slashes around him disrupting most of the junk, that flew around. Slashes were powerful enough, as they reached walls they were making a huge cuts in them and so, Kazu was completely wrecking the room they were in. "Actually, this room started to annoy me.."

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

Confronting a demon was as much a battle of wits as it was a test of strength, and Sena had prevailed in the former. Though she was vulnerable physically as the enemy stared her down, her mind hadn't rested for a second—calling bluffs, catching lies, remaining calm and preventing Rurona from getting inside her head. But now was the time for action, and every resource she'd devoted to analysis was working to keep her mobile.

She needed to be or she'd die, for all the master's puppets were on their feet. The girl hopped a water-engulfed leg that flew at her, spun upon landing, and evaded sharp outgrowths that extended from the limb. A second imp whipped an arm at Kit and a third's fluid appendage circled him, gradually closing in. Everything between the slayers was a confused salvo of needles and a purple rain of blood, a dynamic maze of snaking limbs and a bow-legged march of demons on liquid stilts. The raging inferno was the calmest feature about the scene.

When the leeches were eliminated and the children fell unconscious, however, the crackling flames reclaimed the night. Sena's back was pressed against Kit's at the fight's conclusion, feeling his breath through his skin. Both scantily clad, they turned and faced each other, the girl warmed by the fire and a likely end to the unexpected developments. She placed her fist on the taller male's muscled chest and smiled respectfully under her scarf.

She didn't need to do all this to know he was fine. The persistent uncertainty, though, was the state of his pride. When they first met, she'd stolen his kill. He'd beheaded the target this time, but not without Sena's save, her constant direction, and the surprise of Rurona's survival that further invalidated his efforts. Pride didn't matter as long as the task was complete, she believed. Yet she wondered, for teamwork's sake, if it meant something more to Kit, if it motivated him like the girl's experiences did her. Perhaps he needed the sense of achievement, enjoyed the dominant role and despised being someone's lackey... because it made him feel like less of a man?

"Never mind. Your manhood is on full display..." Sena noted, briefly looking down then aside. She withdrew her hand from Kit's chest and covered her own, blushing in embarrassment. When the battle finished, when her sword returned to its sheath and the steely focus faded from her eyes, Sena was just a regular girl. The past haunted some and made monsters out of others, but there was a human side to a few slayers that tragedy had not warped.

 

[kyuukestu]

Hearing Kazu's words, Phyra sliding low, moving beneath the umbrella of strikes that repelled the hailstorm of attacks. Her breathing sharpened into short quick breaths and she transitioned into the Fourth Stance: Heavey Rains Feed the flood. Her body warmed, oxygen rushing through her veins and strengthening her muscles. Her speed increased her swords no longer flowing but ripping through the air.

"I'll find the Demon, you deal with her attacks!"

With Kazu's mention of teamwork, Phyra made her own suggestion. His last strike had made it evident that his breath of thunder was more suited to dealing with the demon's large-scale attacks than her own breathe of rain. Her intent was to capitalize on that. If Kazu dealt with the demon's telekinetic attacks, then Phyra could build up speed, eventually becoming a tempest that would flood the demon's hidey-hole.

"First Stance: Raindrop!"

Phyra struck out, the tip of her blade piercing the wall. The strike was like its namesake, a raindrop that scattered against the ground. Drip. The of many, a raindrop never fell alone. Drip. Drip. Drip. The pitter-patter of raindrops was embodied in Phyra's swordplay; a gentle drizzle through sudden showers becoming a heavenly deluge. She chained together raindrops, each stab into the wall scattering and pulling back swiftly in preparation for the next.

That was how Phyra intended to find the demon. Just like the rain, drenching the ground in a flurry of droplets.

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

Basano was cunning, seductive, and strategic, seldom relying on grand displays of power and using her abilities sparingly. The miscellaneous projectiles that floated in the air seemed more like distractions than earnest attacks, whether they meant to lure Phyra into a trap or exert the slayers as splinters continued to pierce their skin. Unless she was plotting their slow and gradual deaths, the fiend was nothing more than a common poltergeist.

Her moves weren't flashy whatsoever, and she knew this. A stronger version of her Blood Demon Art could act outside a lone room's confines, strengthen her pull on objects, give her control of items in others' possession, or expand her influence to anything considered an object by the furthest stretch of the imagination, like walls and whole houses. But all these feats were beyond her, so she learned to exercise her existing powers smartly. She'd slipped out of the painting, traveled up the marble tiles that constituted the fireplace wall, and settled in a ceiling light, the only thing the slayers' rampage had spared.

Basano had safely removed herself from the path of Phyra's blade, but the room was totally destroyed, begging the question of whether this was the scene of a fight or a sick game of hide-and-seek. She still refused to reveal herself, pulling strings from a comfortable place and making fools of her hunters. She was a frustrating kind of demon, too unambitious with her offense to strip away the whole floor. Instead, she lifted a single board before Phyra's foot and tripped her, standing up the sharp end of the fire poker that rested right where she was falling. For all her planning and finesse, she'd only lose balance, impale herself on a piece of a weapon Kazu's slashes had split in two, and fall victim to the flesh eater's games.

"You must have had the entire fight planned out in your head, didn't you?~" mocked Basano. "But you forgot one small detail. This space is my domain. Here, I hold the master card."

She slowed her floating assaults so Kazu would relent, but his strikes didn't cease. The surest way to stop him, she decided, was to disrupt the floor on which he stood a second time. The demon did precisely that, rousing the sleeping panel beneath him, forcing him to safer ground, and momentarily throwing him off. In that brief opening, Basano finally manifested and zipped down from the ceiling light. In her hand was a cord that she must have plucked from a harp, or a piano, or some other instrument she'd found in the abundant mansion. Right then, she attempted to noose Kazu in the darkness and kill him, showing herself only when the slayers least expected it.

"I've toyed enough with you alive. Now hang on a string like the puppet you are."

 

[kyuukestu]

The sudden shifting of the ground beneath her had caught Phyra off-guard. She hadn't expected such subtleties from the demon. In fact, it was slightly insulting that the demon believed a slayer would just...trip and die. Huffing, Phyra had half a mind to show the demon just how wrong she was, to catch herself with her blades and then flip herself over the demon's attack. However, what would've been a minor inconvenience in any other situation suddenly became a verified concern as Phyra felt her muscles abruptly seize and ignite. Her last huff, the shortest of breaks in her breathing technique had allowed her fatigue to catch up to her. The speed and movements her breathing technique required were immensely fatiguing and the rain-blade found herself unable to deal with Basara's attack in the trivial manner she'd envisioned.

Still, she was a demon slayer. The girl twisted her body, her muscles convulsing in protest but still preventing the poker from piercing anything vital. She released a pained hissed as the sharp end of the tool drove through her abdomen and blood began to pool, wetting the floor and her garments. It wouldn't kill her in short order, but bleeding to death probably would. The wound itself was perhaps not as painful as the demon's scathing words as Phyra's body was beginning to numb from fatigue.

'Wait...her words...?'

Now revealing herself to the open and no longer protected by her demon art which projected her voice in a way that made her location indistinguishable, Phyra had locked onto the demon's voice as the latter begun approaching Kazu. It would appear that for all her schemes and trickery, the demon's big mouth would be her own undoing. Phyra's arm flicked and she made as if to throw her blade, but instead deftly caught the ribbon streaming from its hilt. She whirled the blade, once, twice, thrice, in just a trice, and then let her blade rip free from her grip, flying blade-first toward Basano. She'd been careful to avoid Kazu, however, as she vaguely approximated his location from the moonlit reflection in his blade.

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

The demon's string was just a flick away from wrapping Kazu's throat and snatching him off the ground. But Basano's arms suddenly froze, failing to close the loop and reeling from the shock of a severed connection. Her line of sight sank fast, shook from an impact, and revolved several times before it settled on her hanging, decapitated body. The boy's feet had never left the floor; the monster's head had instead arrived with a loud thud and rolled into the moonlight, while the blade responsible clattered across its wet surface.

Basano's will still guided her detached parts, though her neck was slowly crumbling to ash. Ultimately she was her own puppet, who could move her limbs however she wanted and stare from afar. Yet the show she watched played out in the darkness, not on the moonlit screens and shattered windows behind her, and the spotlight had fallen on the disembodied head in its audience.

When demons died, the humans they once were attended their funerals. Like mourners at their own graves, they recalled the former lives they'd led and wept. A severed head no longer needed to satisfy its body's hunger, or entertain demon-hood's promises of power, so nothing stopped Basano's human memories from worming their way into her consciousness. That was what they were at first⁠—worms, ugly memories, recollections of her exploited, overworked father with whom she'd lived in a distant city. She remembered how she did everything to support him, forgoing a normal adolescence and sharing his pained smile at a tiring day's end. She was grateful for the little they had, yet she took those times for granted and thought they'd last forever. Shortly after learning that her father had collapsed from exhaustion and died, she chose to become a demon and escape the intractable laws of human society that kept them on the bottom, move up in the world and exact revenge on those at the top.

That's right. Basano had turned with good intentions. So what if the reasons that motivated her now were selfish? A mindless executioner made the world a better place by killing criminals, but would he be doing his job any less effectively if he happened to enjoy it? Basano was cleansing society of greedy pigs and filling her stomach at the same time.

"This is not my funeral! We'll all die together!" she shouted, dispelling her clouding thoughts, tapping into her lower body, and taking another swipe at Kazu's neck. Her eyes flitted about the room, spotted a broken sconce in a pool of liquor, and followed its wet trail across the floor, meandering between debris and lighting up at the conception of her last strike. "Ignite!"

The fallen candle's wick sparked a flame that ripped across the room in seconds, erecting a barrier of fire between the slayers, climbing up the walls and spreading through the junk that littered the ground. Suddenly there was little space to stand, for the humans and the mansion alike. The hungry blaze raised its tendrils higher like forks, soon to devour the home off its foundation. Basano's head had already caught the flames, cackling madly and thinking of the defenseless rich people she'd preyed on, forgetting that she'd underestimated those explicitly sent to kill her and enjoying the scene from Hell.

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

(Sorry it took me so long to post)

Before Kazu noticed he fell at the floor and saw as a demonic woman was heading at him to kill him. Well, she was quite beautiful honestly, but sadly, sadistic girls that tries to murder him aren't really his type. "Puppet, huh.. Interesting proposition, but sadly You aren't my type of girl to give such propositions" he said and tried to roll away as he was on the ground, when demon headed to him and then he saw Basano's head fell at the ground "Nice timing, Phyra"

After that, he heard Basano yelling.
He dodged a swipe of Basano lower body and then... Fire appeard between him and Phyra and spreaded quickly in entire room.
"Phyra!!... Fifth Style: Heat Lightning!" Kazu shouted, one focused slash fall at the flame and made passage for a short while. Young demon slayer jumped to Phyra's side of the room, before passage was closed with wall of flames again. "Let's get out of there, alright?" he looked around and saw the last wall, not consumed by flames. "Fourth style: Distant Thunder" Kazu attacked with many strikes at the wall, he kept attacking to the moment that blood was driping from his right hand, that was holding the sword he used for the technique, but wall gave up and Kazu manage to make a hole in it. He grabed Phyra's hand and rushed towards the hole "Sorry, we don't have much time.." he said and as he lead her by the hand, jumped off.. There was a bush, but to small to help reduce any fall damage. So Kazu tried and manage to be falling in a way, that if they hit the ground, Phyra could fell at his back and would not be hurt much.. Well.. It was his idea, so he should suffer consequences. He hit the ground with his whole body in the same time and lost consciousness for a few seconds. After this time, as he regained consciousness. Kazu slowly opened his eyes and asked "Everything's okay?.."

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

The inferno was a daunting backdrop to a losing battle only a moment ago. But now that the slayers had won, it provided a welcome warmth on their bare skin. All Sena had to do was step into the cold and return to her cabin. Was it really over, the wary soldier within her asked. Were crossing the night air and exposing herself to Kit her sole remaining discomforts?

"Good work," she told him professionally, regaining some of her composure and starting away. She was still a little flustered, so her exit lacked the powerful stride of a woman leaving comatose bodies in her wake. The bushes on the far side of the blaze rustled slightly; either the forest shared her unease, or a squirrel had passed.

But when large claws cleared the thicket, heavy breathing filled the air, and the strained roars of a bear reached her ears, Sena stopped in her tracks. She knew not to make any sudden moves in the presence of dangerous beasts, so she planted one foot behind her, pivoted to face the fire, and unsheathed her weapon. Kit was ahead of her on this one, his katana already drawn, his other sword limp at the hairy, white-eyed creature that towered over the campfire even from a distance. The flames that loosely framed its face as it approached did little to redeem its appearance; the oxygen they consumed likely made the bear's labored breathing worse, if it wasn't merely the sound of an intent predator seeking out its prey. The animal's mouth hung open dumbly, drool peeling down its roof, breaking against its lower jaw and dripping onto the dirt. No ordinary bear salivated like this, and the slayers understood, without seeing the leech attached to the back of its head, that it wasn't.

"No holding back on this one," Kit spoke up. Maybe he was sick of Sena's orders or tired of exercising restraint. But he and the girl were on the same page; bears were dangerous whether or not they were demonized, and any ounce of mercy they showed would cost them their lives. Threats, hostages, superior numbers, and any other sort of posturing to gain a mental advantage were no longer at play; their present engagement was purely a physical one. "I can't stand a demon who doesn't die. Let's get rid of her once and for all."

When confronting an undying enemy, a weaker-willed swordsman might have phrased Kit's statement differently, ceased trying to slay a demon who'd only assume a new host and abandoned the mission. But Sena's partner took their assignment one step at a time and focused only on the foe in front of him. She decided to follow his example and stopped thinking ahead for a change.

"I heard you," the girl answered, internally rolling her eyes. "But if you're going to talk tough, back it up this time."

Their usual banter ended there, for Rurona was having none of it. Spires of water shot out from the back of the bear's head, spread and converged on Sena like the legs of a spider stabbing her in unison. She chose the riskier path to avoid them and rushed forward, the appendages clamping down on empty air behind her, missing her by a mile but completing the liquid cage through which she currently ran. Its bars grew thorns that launched toward the center and stood on end, drawn to the slayer who'd breached the inside. She ducked, cleaved, and stopped them with rapid motions of her blade, slicing the air so finely that her slashes formed the outlines of a protective dome. These were hints of a seventh style she rarely used, where her speedy, unrelenting katana whipped every which way and completely covered the area around her—an impregnable defense, that shed stray cuts of sandy air for a worthy offense.

She normally stood in place and let loose when performing that technique. But her present thought process had her on the move, keeping her guard up and closing in on Rurona's last pawn. Just when her target was within striking distance, Sena abandoned her charge, evaded a quick swipe of the monster's claw, and jumped back at the second that slammed into the earth. Bears possessed monstrous strength and delivered the sort of blows she'd be crazy to parry. Between them and the Blood Demon Art that tried to impale her, finding an opening was difficult.

Kit's approach proved fatal. Her partner had come at the bear from behind and crumbled into dust when its massive paw smacked him away. But on the creature's other side, the boy was alive again, driving his weapon through its idle arm and dropping the latter onto the floor. The one who'd faded before Sena's eyes was a mirror image—a trick Kit had showed her many times, which became more impressive when it turned a battle on its head. Rurona reeled and stumbled, either from the novel sensation of pain in a body she'd thought invincible, or from the missing limb that compromised her balance. Either way, the young woman had the opportunity she needed.

She closed the full gap between her enemy, cutting up across its chest as Kit sliced down its back. The animal collapsed in a mountain of meat, its members too heavy with death for the parasite to control. But Rurona smirked in her host body as its life force waned. She didn't recall the abusive husband from whom she ran, the fateful encounter that gave her the strength to overpower him, or the intent to take her kids somewhere safe when she returned as a demon the next night. Nor was she aware that she'd devoured her children long ago, that she wouldn't find them no matter how many more she consumed. The human memories weren't flooding back, and with no reason to despair, the fiend simply laughed—a growling, cavernous laughter that welled in a bear's throat. She wasn't dead, far from it. She'd spread her leeches all throughout Kessho Lake, claiming fish and squirrels and waterfowl and other hosts through which she'd live on. She'd continue to preside over these lands as she had for many years, and the unturned would spin their tales.

"You're finished," Sena raised her voice and stuck her sword in the beast's cranium, piercing the leech and preventing Rurona from listening in on her next words. "This bear came out of nowhere, so there's a good chance the demon is still alive. In the form of other animals."

The statement wasn't a prelude to another order. The task ahead was not something they could accomplish themselves.

"We'll need to call for backup and do a thorough sweep of the area, check the wildlife around here and kill any leeches we find. Let's have our birds deliver the message to HQ."

She glanced down at the fallen monster's corpse and imagined its great coat on her shoulders, so she wouldn't have to hide her chest.

"Did I steal your thunder again? It was worse the first time, so things are looking up," she teased. Despite the awkward shade of red that still tinged her cheeks, the tone with which Sena addressed Kit was reassuring. "This was a team effort. If either of us had gone alone, we'd have never seen the other again. And I know how excited you are to see me... you disgusting pervert."

~~~

It didn't take long for the blaze to creep over the mansion and engulf it completely. Events affecting the world of the wealthy were all that made a splash in Hokori's consciousness; the matters of the poor were seldom heard. Yet the estate burned quietly, sparking no reaction in the scattered bands of masked and cloaked strangers who hurried through the night. They toted what appeared to be oversized potato sacks and congregated at the guarded gates of Hokori Castle—a remote, foreboding black fortress that governed voicelessly and denied entry even to the nobles. They heaved the burlap bags and flung them over the walls, where soldiers on the other side received them and dragged them into the castle's daunting doors, from which they'd never return.

 

[kyuukestu]

Phyra grunted slightly at Kazu's inquiry. Everything was most certainly not okay, she'd been speared through the side, but it wouldn't be right to take that out on him. The demon slayer stinted her pain by the grit of her teeth, squeezing out laborious words, slowly and carefully, so as to not worsen her injury.

"That demon...she got me..." She shifted and revealed her injury, where the sharpened poker had pierced her side and her cloakings had already been slicked with blood.

"I need to pull this out and stop the bleeding...I need to get it cleaned as well. I need...bandages and antiseptic."

She looked askance at Kazu, wondering if her fellow slayer might've come prepared with a medical kit. She wasn't sure how likely it was that Kazu had what she needed, but whatever he didn't have would be easily found in the town.

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

Kazu looked at Phyra wound, it definitly would be really bad left without threatment. He didn't have a antiseptics and bandages and as much as he could just search and find in the city, it would take more time. Kazu stood up and ran up to Manson, slowly consumed in fire. The first floor was still untouched and he quickly went to kitchen and get alcohol. He returned quickly back.
"You may not like it, but that will do for a good antiseptic and.." he pulled out water, cut with his katana part of his robe, clean it with water then he used alcohol to soak into the fabric.

"I guess we could find a better bandages and antiseptics somewhere else, but I wouldn't want to leave you here alone for to long with this wound and it looked for me too dangerous to move with it, before we take care of it" he said.
"Want me to pull it out or will you do it yourself?"

 

[kyuukestu]

"I'll pull it out after we get some better bandages. I won't die before you get back; but, if you're that worried then you should hurry up."

To properly tend to her wound she would need to partially disrobe. Kazu's presence, of course, made her somewhat hesitant to do that. She quickly tried to hurry off her fellow demon slayer, the sooner he came back with those bandages the sooner she could treat her injury.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem as if she would be able to do anything about her sword. The blade she had thrown to behead the demon was still in the house and by now it had likely been buried under burning tinder. She was rather fortunate, as she still had one blade remaining, but she was still saddened by the loss of her new sword. She would have to commission a replacement before she departed on her next mission.

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

"You bet that I will hurry.." Kazu replied and rushed searching for true bandages. His kimono after he cut a little bit of it annoyed him on the way, but he decided to do something with it later.
He found bandages faster than he thought, but still to slow than he thought. He heard some voices and ruckus on the streets. Some guys with... Bags? He didn't know what it was and it looked too suspisious and weird for him. He decided to return to Phyra.
"First style: Thunderclap and Flash" he quickly returned to her. "I got you a true bandages finally, I hope that you didn't wait to long" he took a deep breath "Something weird is still happening in this city.." he whispered to her.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

"... That's a lot of fire."

Miyaji stared at the burning wreckage of the mansion to where he had been dispatched weeks ago; after escaping from the brothel workers in Korudo and receiving a mission following days of recovery and idleness, a week's journey landed him in Hokori.

He hadn't been informed of who had been sent before him to vanquish... whatever demon could have survived in those very real, very natural flames, but nevertheless, he brandished his Naginata and slowly approached the building that still raged with fire. As roofs caved in and the mansion continued to burn, the faint sound of maniacal cackling caught Miyaji's attention, and after even more cautious movement, he finally arrived at the "front door", which had opened and grown in size, courtesy of the flames.

The bright inferno required Miyaji to squint his eyes to focus on anything that caught his attention, but upon intense scrutiny, he was able to identify the last few remnants of a withering demon corpse. Looks like my job's already done, he thought to himself, a somewhat exasperated laugh escaping his lips. However, the shimmering reflection of a metallic object shone in the corner of his eye, and squinting once again to identify it, Miyaji was surprised to see the outline of a sword. It was trapped under burning rubble, but a few minutes' thought told him that he could get close enough and extend his reach with his blade; it was also likely that he would suffer from minor burns along his arms, but it was nothing a little medicine in his inner haori pocket couldn't alleviate.

After taking a deep breath and tightening his two-handed grip on his Naginata, Miyaji lunged forward and stretched out his arms, wedging the blade underneath the pile of stone and timber and pressing it against the hilt of the buried sword. The flames around him licked his arms and face, and he winced as he pushed his blade into position, but with a deft swing, the target was freed from its restraints and flung to his feet. Since it had been trapped in a burning building, the blade was a little hot, but after several minutes of vigorous fanning, it was safe to touch. As he picked it up and examined it, the design and blue-grey tint brought back a memory in Miyaji's mind: a girl with black hair that brandished two blades... a cute head-tilt, an attractive fa.... an irritated scowl, a hand fiercely slapping away his own, and a sharp voice ordering him to 'stay where he was'.

An amused smile pulled at the corners of his lips as Miyaji identified the other half of Phyra's blade, and after treating his burns, he headed past the mansion, hoping to find his ally from his first mission and return her weapon.

~*~*~

Miyaji found her sooner than he expected.

Phyra had been weakly sitting on the ground, another slayer dressed in a.. kimono? Another slayer dressed in a kimono quietly whispering to her. Approaching the two from their left with the girl's sword in hand, he called her by her "other" name, assuming she had addressed herself as such to the unfamiliar boy. Had the unknown slayer not been in uniform, things most likely would have taken a turn for the extreme, and Miyaji was relieved that it didn't seem like Phyra was in any danger.. oh, she was. Quickening his pace, the slayer's voice was laced with concern.

"Reva, is that you? Need any help tending to that injury?"

 

[kyuukestu]

Phyra sent Kazu off with her eyes; watching in anguished silence as he vanished into the town. When she could no longer hear his steps beating out his departure across the sandy ground, she sighed—and then immediately regretted it. Blissful relief was usurped as she was painfully reminded of the household appliance that had thoroughly impaled her.

The demon slayer relaxed into the sand and made herself comfortable. While she waited for Kazu to return she stared into the starry sky, the world around her illuminated by Japan's largest and most expensive bonfire. Her mind lulled, but the crackle of wooden timbers did nothing to distract her from the very real threat of bleeding out once she pulled out the poker. The bandages would help, but even she wasn't sure by how much. She didn't think she would die...would she? The impending lethality of her job was really setting in now that the whole lethal part of it was rearing its head.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Kazu reappeared; she'd heard his steps long before she had caught his figure, but as he arrived on the scene the steps didn't stop. The immediate discrepancy was thrown to the back of her mind in favor of the medical supplies she needed to preserve her life.

Phyra received the bandages with all the aplomb she could muster, also nodding slightly as Kazu reported on some dubious activity on the town's streets. She was already formulating a response when her thoughts were once-more interrupted by another voice cutting in. A voice she certainly hadn't expected to hear anywhere in these arid parts.

"Miyaji?"

The demon slayer was not at all unhappy to be reunited with her friend, in fact, she all but glowed at his arrival. If she wasn't so pale from blood-loss and if not for the dim moonlight, then her subtle elation might've been noticed. However, with the development of the situation and the increase to a total of three demon slayers had given Phyra something more to work with.

"I'll be fine," She started, keeping her own uncertainty from her voice "It'll only take me a few minutes to clean and wrap my wound but after that, I need to get some medical care. I'll need someone to carry me. I don't want to walk with a wound like this... I'll be fine once I get someone to look at me, but I think there's more to the town than the demons. I don't want to have risked my life for nothing. Could you check out the sitch with Kazu?"

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

"That's me," Miyaji replied with a smile as he hurried over to where Phyra sat. "My team and I were able to kill our assigned demon, and after a few days of rest, I was assigned here. Looks like I was a little too late to the party, but I'm glad I came; after all, you would have to face the wrath of those Hyottoko swordsmiths if I didn't find this in the wreckage."

Setting the other half of Phyra's Liu Ye Dao onto the sand beside her, Miyaji crouched down to take a look at his friend's wound and sucked in a sharp breath upon assessing the full magnitude of the injury.

"Wow.. okay, you got poked a little hard, didn't you?" Attempting to alleviate the grim mood that filled the clearing with some light-hearted sarcasm, the slayer let out a soft chuckle before reaching into the pockets of his haori to dig for medicine and supplies, listening as Phyra spoke. It seemed like bandages had already been taken care of, so Miyaji set down some glass bottles filled with antiseptic and herbal ointment and a few clean rags to apply the medicine. The poker had easily pierced through Phyra's clothing, and judging from where the injury was located, it seemed that to properly treat the wound, the girl would need to remove her garments.

"If I leave these here and give you enough space, are you able to get yourself treated and wrapped? I'll carry you wherever, so once you're done, send me a signal of some sort without overexerting yourself, and I'll come back as fast as I can."

Turning over to glance at Kazu, he straightened back up and firmly patted his shoulder; the slayer then led him out of the clearing to an area in which Phyra was out of sight. "You need to recover, too, so I'll take care of seeing after Reva; in the meantime, I might as well help with whatever else is going on here, so any information you have on that would be appreciated." There had obviously been some temptation to steal brief glances at Phyra, but Miyaji managed to divert his attention away from any immature thoughts and focus on the new task at hand.

“Also... hey. I’m Miyaji Kojiro. I’m pretty sure this is a situation neither of us expected, but... pleasure working with you.”

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

"Well, nice to meet you, Miyaji-san.. Let's go and check the sitch, I will go first and you will follow. I hope it isn't a problem for you" Kazu said and turned around, he didn't know what kind of relations Miyaji and Phyra shared, but he didn't have time to think about such things. He was curious about what was happening. "Let's go already.. I am tired of this all" he said and headed to a place, where he saw those mysterius people. Masked inviduals with masks and bags were entering the Hokori castle.. "Well, I hope that Phyra gonna heal quickly.. Let's see how helpful may be Mija-san... I wonder how Akane is doing... Man, just shut up, Kazu" he whispered to himself. Random thought were in his mind and didn't let him focus. He was tired, but he didn't have time for that. He slapped slightly one of his cheeks. He regain his focus "Any idea how can I... How we can get there?" he asked.

 

[ThAtGuY101]

With the spare time on Dolan's hands he took the opportunity to write a letter detailing his journey so far to his family. He had hoped that his owl would deliver it.

~Dolan's Letter...~

Dear Ma, Pa, all seven of my siblings ,and my master Kishi if your reading this too

The journey has been scary, fun, painful, confusing, tiresome, confusing, so painful, confusing ,and lots of traveling. On my first mission I was supposed to meet up with another demon slayer? I don't know what happened. I don't know if she was killed, fell off a cliff ,or what. I do remember killing a really strong demon. This demon was waaaay stronger than the ones during the final selection! It was loud too! Louder than the goats, chickens, geese ,and horses combined! I reckon this demon could yell so loud you could hear it all the way from the other side of the farm! could ya believe that?! I killed it too! All by myself! Ma, I told you I could do it! Then I did it! Apri has been such great company! Tell the horse master I said thanks again. I can't imagine I can't imagine how far I'd have gotten without that horse!

Later on in my journey I stopped off in some big ol' town so big, I don't know what pa would think If he saw the place. then met up with some demon slayers! Honest to goodness demon slayers! One of them is named Akane, she seemed nice enough ,and Apri seemed to really like her. Then there was Miyaji, He was pretty serious and stuff ,but he did manage to kill the demon. Also I got thrown out of a wall. Like twice. Surprisingly getting thrown out a wall doesn't hurt as much as you think... It hurts a lot! However after the adrenaline rush starts to ware off and you start to realize just how much pain your in, that's when the real pain starts to kick in! It hurt a lot. It hurt worse the time I got pecked by all those chickens when I was itty bitty just five years old.

We then went to the family house. Well. It's not the family house ,but they done gone helped us anyways. I don't know where Miyaji is. I think Akane is still resting or something... I dunno... I really hope that mean ol' owl delivers this message. If your reading this and youur not one of the people I sent the letter to then can you redirect this letter to the correct adress? If you are Ma and Pa please ignore this last part. I don't know why I'm still writing more on this letter than I need to ,but for some reason I just can't stop. Kinda like that one time when we were havin' that harvest festival and the music was playin' and I just couldn't stop dancin'. My feet didn't wanna stop movin'.

,Sincerely Dolan​

~End of message...~

Dolan began looking around outside, "Yoohoo! birdy! Owly! Don't be lazy! Can you deliver my letter tooooo!" Dolan yelled before being chased by an angry owl. The owl noticed the letter ,and snatched it from his hand, "Deliver that to my family please!" Dolan yelled. He then headed inside hoping the bird wasn't gonna mess it up and send it to some random person down the street. He then began wondering how Akane was doing ,and what Miyaji was doing. He decided he would go check up on Akane. Dolan also wondered how the other demon slayers of whom he didn't fight alongside were doing. Dolan wasn't sure what any of the other demon slayers were doing ,but he knew his wasn't the only people on a mission as there are many demons in need of slaying.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

"Ah, please; feel free to drop the honorific," Miyaji replied, shaking his head dismissively. "I'll watch your six."

Kazu led the slayer to an area where the two could get a good look at the castle, and Miyaji's eyes narrowed as they followed the group of masked men hurrying into the building with very full sacks slung over their shoulder. His newfound ally seemed to be whispering quietly under his breath before promptly slapping himself as if to snap him out of his stupor, and though the sudden actions confused him, Miyaji kept his focus on what had been unfolding.

"I really don't want to think that there are people in those bags, but the fact that they've masked themselves and are moving so discreetly has to suggest something ominous. Maybe we can tail them into the building to find out where they're going, but it'd also be better to do some recon for now, scan the building, and wait for Phyra to finish tending to her wound and give her signal so we can take her to a hospital. What do you think?"

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

"Sorry Miyaji... If you want then you can go to Phyra, but I won't waste time here for recons... Don't get me wrong, but I suffered enough losses becouse of wasting my time or not getting somewhere immidietly" Kazu stood up and was an open window to about a second floor or something "Sorry, take care of Phyra and if I won't came out after 2 hours then consider me as dead" said Kazu and quickly, yet quietly made his way to the window, he walked up on the wall and after some time and muscle pain he manage to get to the inside the castle. He was now in a dark, long hall. Well, he was lucky that nobody was around. He made his way through the hall and keep quiet as he walked.
After a while he heard voices and saw door that slight light came through its gaps.
He put carefully ear to the door and listened.

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

It had been a mere month between Basano's first victim and the slayers' arrival. For the time it took word of the demon's presence to spread and for the swordsmen to travel all the way, thirty days wasn't that long. A sense of fear, uncertainty, and satisfaction pervaded Hokori, especially among the poorest citizens who watched as their affluent subjugators turned up dead by the tens. The dry, desert air was scarce, and there was none left for conversation about anything other than the gruesome murders.

But the loudest whispers on the matter came from the very castle people thought to be silent. Hokori's rightful chief and his advisers had retreated into its walls five years ago and not shown their faces since. The city had changed dramatically in that period, yet as far as the public was aware, no one was steering the ship. So when it hit a bump and a flesh-eating monster appeared in town, nobody caught on to the plan that was hatched within the forbidden fortress's walls, the request of the Corps' services to eliminate a thorn in its dwellers' sides.

"You're dismissed," said a voice, clear in the candlelit throne room behind whose doors Kazu hid. Only a special few remained inside; the cloaked men who'd delivered the bodies had to leave. Thankfully, the suits of armor guarding the entrance provided ample cover as they passed the eavesdropper, who was getting warmer and warmer to the true reason he'd been called here.

"Another night, another feast."

The words would send chills up any slayer's spine. The one who uttered them was the most exalted among the staying group—a dark, messy-haired man with pale, pink skin and a business suit that clashed with the tribal markings on his face. Those he addressed wore priestly, gold-embroidered caps and purple robes.

"It's been five years since my sickness robbed me of the ability to walk in the sun. But it enlightened me, opened my eyes to the folly of my people's traditions and granted me powers that have transformed Hokori into the flourishing desert oasis it is today."

Five. The number occurred over and over in discussions with the locals. The main question they wanted answered was what had become of their leader, and five was the exact number of years since he'd been seen. Here was a person, however, who spoke of the city's traditions like he knew them well, and of enlightenment as if he'd experienced a different Hokori. Stranger still was a mysterious illness that prevented him from walking in the sun.

"The wealthy humans who've flocked here respect our rule and facilitate our goals, luring in poorer souls with false promises of opportunity and milking them for hard labor. It amazes me how cruel members of the same kind can be to one other."

As the man continued to talk, the pieces slowly came together. He who claimed responsibility for the town's unfettered expansion shamelessly betrayed its realities, and that was abhorrent enough. The most shocking things in his speech, though, were the subtleties—the distinction of one kind from another, of himself from humans.

"But it's been that way for a long time now. People come here, settle in the cheap homes of the slums, and make a living until the city becomes too densely populated. Then they're kidnapped, brought to us, and devoured—an effective means of culling the masses, clearing the houses they once occupied, and reselling them to the next clueless pauper."

The creature who governed Hokori was no man at all, it turned out. Nor were the other members of the ruling class, who echoed his statements. The first sounds that anyone heard from the noiseless keep in years were those of morbid celebration, the sort that demons engaged in.

"There's plenty of money to be made and bodies to be consumed!" one cheered.

"What'll we do with the heap of gold coins that's swamped half the throne room? There's hardly a chair left to sit on!" another laughed.

"Every gear within our system must be in place for it to function. Once the fiend targeting the nobility is eliminated, there will be no more threat to our job creators, and people will continue to settle here," a third added seriously. "Soon, treasure will fill whatever empty space this chamber has to spare."

That had been the plan, the pink-skinned man reflected. Summon unsuspecting slayers and have them do his dirty work. He'd saved himself much stress, not needing to devise an effective method of killing Basano. Then again, he could undergo all the stress in the world and still wouldn't age a bit. Perhaps he owed that to a diet of young, able bodies. That he couldn't see the sun's shiny finish on the invincible city he'd built was a small price to pay for eternal youth.

"I used to think my condition was a curse..." he muttered, "...but I understand now that it's a blessing."

~~~

"How does it feel?" Tomoru asked Ren when the influence of white magic waned. "Pure happiness, isn't it? Your head is so much clearer when you catch a whiff, and you realize there's a colorful world out there that our senses don't show us. That's the kind of joy we hope to share with humans, and you'll be doing some of that tomorrow night."

She couldn't figure out Ren's profile. She'd dismissed his training as a hobby he'd taken up to fight off the boredom that accompanied immortality, or preserve his human mind's sanity which suffered in long periods of darkness and solitude. Gravedigger demons often weren't as dedicated, and she rarely met recruits with the will to fight and harm people. They were regarded as the softest of the Red Demon's nine branches—a mere supplier of a human demand—so if Ren was a fighter at heart, his strength would probably go unused.

Although he might be tempted to knock out the crazed, twitching junkies who approached them in the alleys, Tomoru considered the next night. She and Ren had bagged the drugs and were ready to sell. A whole vest's worth of the stuff was strapped to her chest under her brown sweater, and more was stored in the black duffel they'd carried. She'd tagged along on the rookie's first day for good measure; from then on, he'd enjoy the same freedom she and the other Gravediggers did.

"Our first client is here," she directed Ren's attention to an approaching young man. Client... was definitely too flattering a term to describe him. His hair was unkempt, his eyes were bloodshot, his posture was slouched, and his fingers were thin and particular, like those of an insect who'd pick at a powdered table until every grain was gone.

"White magic... I need more white magic..." muttered the gangly adolescent, a ghost of some old self eager to return to its drug-induced spirit world, barely separating the bills. Completing the transaction was the last act that the mundane world demanded, but he fumbled with the paper as if in disbelief that there were many slips to it. They'd melted into a single ticket out of his current reality, it seemed.

 

[ThAtGuY101]

The stuff on the table gave Ren a weird unusual feelings. Not wanting to look like the degenerate demons that partook in the substance on a regular basis. Ren managed to maintain his composure. He looked over to Tomoru whom asked Ren how he felt, he wasn't sure how to respond. The only similar experience he had was drinking alcohol with his friends, in a sense that they both effected his mind. However that's where the similarities ended. Ren wasn't sure what to tell Tomoru of how he felt.

"Happiness? No. I prefer to leave memories of the past, in the past. You can keep the rest of that stuff ,and do with it however you wish" Ren said. He had many memories from being a normal boy living in a normal fishing village. Partaking in normal activities and lived an all rounded normal life, for a boy living in a modest, quiet ,and fairly safe environment. Regardless how Ren felt about that life, that was a door that had closed long ago. He'd undeniably be more appreciative if he could once more walk outside to the sun's embrace without fear of pain ,but aside from that as well as the taste of a nicely cooked fresh fish Ren was perfectly content with his life. He had grown more acceptance of his circumstances. If anything he did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

"Client?" Ren said when Tomoru talked about the man who was approaching them. "Who is this man approaching us in such manner? What's this guy's problem? Client... So this thing is the client. This man looks about as sad as the rats that live in my cave. Maybe even sadder" Ren thought to himself. Ren snatched the ticket ,and placed the product in his hand. Ren was slightly annoyed with the man and his muttering ,but felt more sorry for him than anything. "Hmmm" Ren quietly scoffed under his breath.

At this point the product was given ,and the payment was taken. Ren had no more interest in interacting with this man. He then looked at Tomoru. the job seemed too easy. Perhaps there were still more clients ,or maybe the job was supposed to be easy and that was it. Regardless of Ren's assignment, he still wasn't sure what to think of Tomoru, at least she didn't twitch or make weird noises.

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

"Oh my gosh, that was waaaaaay to close to comfort..." Kazu thought, hidden behind the Knight as cloaked figures left. He returned to listening those guys. Each of their words make him even more disgusted and schocked and pissed. He pushed the doors and casualy entered the room.

" Yo! I hope that I don't interrupt your super secret meating or something by accident. Came to report that your serious problem called a massive job-creators eater has been slayed, Congratulations!!" Kazu shouted the last word. He acted weird.. Becouse he was clearly trying to hide how angry he was right now.

"Now nothing stand on your way to earn even more money, untill the day this chamber walls break from its amount" he took a deep breath and looked around at all those people.. Their greed was so big that they were probably offering people like that every single day. That... That.....
"I did my requested by you job.. But I just received a new request. From people that you have killed so far... Normally I would say nothing personal. I see this room filled with monsters and my job as a slayer is to deal with them" he glared at those people.

"But you are nothing more than a trash! I will deal with you quickly, to not let my partners to fight you. I will leave them real demons to take care off and I gonna take care of the trash!... Sorry, I talked like a total idiot right now, but if I didn't then how would you understand me?" he pulled out his sword and his face looked calm again "Wanna play woth me or should I tell entire world, what was happening here?"

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

The way the meeting's attendees looked at Kazu could be described in one word as unimpressed. Not threatened enough to feel shocked, since he was a single demon slayer they'd hired.

"It seems we have an intruder..." one of them finally stated the obvious. What followed was an awkward silence. They weren’t compelled to respond to any of the things Kazu had said.

Not in words, at least. The brooding, pink-skinned man suddenly flicked his wrist, raising a giant square of floor that encompassed the boy's position into the air like a tower and smushing him against the ceiling.

"That's what happens..." he concluded, "...when you run your mouth."

The overconfident ones who believed they were in no danger were the likeliest to be thwarted by a fast, simple move. He'd figured Kazu out the moment he'd set foot in the room. The slayer's added yapping only gave him and his allies a clearer read. "You attacking us is against your mission. We're the client who sent for you in the first place. We're also Hokori's legitimate ruling class, and I'm its rightfully chosen chief."

"By 'dealing' with us, you're committing an act of insurrection against a city's lawful government," one of the chief's advisers warned. He stared down Kazu, or at least what was left of him, with contempt. Being a demon slayer was nice, wasn't it? He could do whatever he wanted without regard for the consequences, waltz into their castle and attempt regime change. If he'd succeeded, what chaos would ensue in a place with no authority? What would fester in that void, and how many lives would be upended? The half-witted swordsman, who hadn't considered these questions, exemplified why slayers should adhere strictly to the goals of their assignment and not meddle in external affairs. The presiding seven demons knew that much, since they'd requested the Corps' services.

"There's no use in spelling it out for him, since he has no more brains to think with," the chief replied, certain that Kazu was dead. There were seven fiends including himself, so he was vastly outnumbered, and if he faced the suit alone, hopelessly outmatched. In the years since the life-changing visit that turned him, he'd accepted his new existence and steadily accumulated power. Humans like Kazu were a joke, for if Hokori's rapid growth evidenced anything, it was that demons were the next stage in their development, a superior race that was much better suited to lead.

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

Kazu indeed get hit by a square, but he hold on asi he was pushing it away, when he reached celing and make a small gap. It wasn't the smartest think he did, he knew that, emotions took over his actions, but attack by suprise wouldn't change much, just hurt or if he was really lucky, kill one demon and still would need to deal with the rest. "Stop shitting me" said Demon slayer, placed his legs against a square and kicked it away. He started to fall, becouse gravitation never was his friend. He rolled a bit in the air and reduced demage of potencial hit. "a chief, who is a monster was chosen by another monsters and greedy rich people? Why should I fallow the law of so much f**ked up to the core city? Now you talk too much crap, so just shut up" he turned to them "I have allies in this city, I believe in them and know that they will help a city after you die. I know they will..." he took a deep breath "Thunderclap and Flash"

He suddenly 'dissapired' from the place where he stood and appeard behind one of the cloaked guys. Aiming for figures neck with quiet and fast slash.

 

[kyuukestu]

There was a slight clattering of steel against sand as Phyra fumbled with her blade, clumsily, and somewhat angrily, before she threw it, hilt first, at Miyaji's head. She grunted with the exertion, but not even the pain and the slight oozing of blood had wiped the pout from her lips.

"Go after him," she all but hissed, brokering no room for argument.

"I'll be fine, once I get this wound wrapped I can make it to the hospital on my own. He'll need your help though, the Demon we just fought was strong, if there are others like her in this town, he won't be able to handle them alone."

With all the supplies Miyaji had brought, the only thing Phyra was at risk of was bleeding out, but even that wasn't something she was overly concerned about. She wasn't dizzy yet, so she hadn't lost that much blood. Often in places as remote as these, the locals would have no shortage of natural remedies and concoctions. Once she was all bandaged up, and perhaps sewn up with a few stitches, then she would only need to rest and consume as much good food as she could, allowing her blood count to rise to normal and her wound to heal.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

"Wait, what-" Miyaji's thoughts were cut off when Kazu suddenly set off toward the castle, stealthily making his way to a window and climbing through. Barely stifling an exasperated sigh, the slayer shrugged to himself and began following behind. "Alright."

As he avoided guards and approached the window through which Kazu had gone, Miyaji was given time to self-reflect. He had complete faith that Phyra would be able to care for herself; sure, he had caught the blade she had rather weakly thrown at him and set it back down beside her, but he knew better than to doubt her first aid skills. That being said, what had kept him from trusting her and committing to the new task that arose? That split second of hesitation had left Kazu to fend for himself against whatever this new threat could be, and upon this realization, Miyaji quickened his pace.

The slayer quickly navigated through the halls and corridors of the castle until finally, he arrived at the throne room, where he was in time to hear a voice speak and see Kazu lifted up and nearly crushed against the ceiling. Kicking the doors open, Miyaji stormed in with his Naginata already in hand. His ally's approach as he lunged directly at the group was a bit hasty, but nevertheless, he continued to charge toward the cloaked figures, prepared for whatever came next.

"I don't know: kidnapping innocents already doesn't seem very 'lawful', and if what I just saw from the flying slab of rock was a Blood Demon Art, I doubt your intentions are, either."

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

"You know I really hate brats like you who say the first thing on their minds yet have no clue what they're talking about," the suited demon snapped all of a sudden, growing rectangular bars from the ground that turned and twisted like a maze as they advanced higher, wrapped Kazu's blade-bearing arm, and foiled his strike. "I'm a monster? I've led Hokori since before any 'monsters' showed up, when it was still a small village. The rich only came when they saw and purchased the whole mansions I summoned from the ground with my ability. I developed this city into its current state overnight!"

The chief whipped around at the sound of Miyaji's voice, leading with a swinging arm that he then threw down in the boy's direction. A curving clocktower, whose shape could veer further off course at the demon's command, blasted from the side wall. Three members of the ruling class lunged at Kazu, wanting to tear him limb from limb, while the remaining three distracted Miyaji as the building's spire sped into him from the left.

"Killing innocents? When a settlement becomes overpopulated, the common, least competitive individuals must be eliminated, and here they happen to be the poor," the pink fiend responded, knowing that it was unlikely the slayer would hear him in the confusion. "This illness has caused me to see things differently. My emotions no longer cloud my choices, and I govern more effectively. So what if I'm less human? Your kind's politicians are the same way, monstrous and Machiavellian, desensitized to people's daily struggles."

A genuine demon was all the more qualified to rule. His words didn't interrupt his attack or render him vulnerable; everything was closing in on the Volcano user, and they merely taunted him from the stands. Was he the other one they'd hired, the chief wondered. How convenient that the two were in one place! Having no more need for their swords, they could dispose of them together and consume them like special menu items, ones that put up a fight unlike the impoverished civilians. The thrill of a hunt made food taste better.

But if Miyaji's movements were as unassuming as he was soft-spoken, he'd go as quietly as he came.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

The suddenly ensuing chaos had muffled most of the pale man's words, but as Miyaji leapt and weaved through his assailants and the seemingly animate chunk of rock hurtling toward him, he managed to catch a few words and the main point of the demon's argument. Despite the difficulty of blocking and avoiding everything that flew his way—jabs, kicks, the clock tower's spire—the slayer failed to hold back a scoff of irritation. It seemed that yet again, he faced a demon that regarded himself as the savior of his people, misinterpreting his twisted methods of governing for gracious leadership.

"You can be the most efficient leader in the world and have innumerable accomplishments to your name, but once you start sacrificing civilians to achieve that, it's no longer government; it's tyranny," Miyaji retorted as he darted through the throne room, getting in close to rebut the corrupt chief's beliefs at the expense of a brief moments' concentration on the fight. As a flying slab of stone nearly slammed into the side of his head, he ducked just in time—albeit with a moderate scrape on the side of his face—and continued to focus on avoiding any incoming assault.

Miyaji tightly gripped his Naginata, gradually feeling a minuscule amount of drag in his movements due to its length and weight, but nevertheless, he pushed on, crouching and rolling as he occasionally blocked and parried the three demons' attacks. He had already employed Total Concentration Breathing to heighten his senses and agility, but at some point, he would have to face off against the three demons pursuing him before focusing on the chief.

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

Miyaji was no threat from where he was standing, so the chief calmly shook his head. There wasn't much of a retort to dismiss. He was literally arguing semantics, taking all the work he'd done in Hokori and merely giving it a new, less flattering name. Results were what mattered, and when one stood at the helm of a large city where personal relationships were limited, he began to see the people outside his circle as statistics. There were far too many to look after; some had to be sacrificed to preserve the whole. That humans suffered while others benefited was a consequence of any social structure, and an unfeeling, unhesitating demon understood that better than anyone.

The chief could've made it known, but he remembered that his enemy was a demon slayer. The government didn't acknowledge his organization, so it was unlikely that Miyaji recognized any form of authority either. Including his own Corps. It had given him an order, yet here he'd turned his sword on the client. Perhaps the fiend had misjudged the nature of the group he'd hired. It was far too focused on killing monsters to maintain discipline, so those in its employ were free to engage in whatever side missions they pleased. They were no different from thugs, as shrouded in mystery as the demons they fought and unguided by the same, exploitable morals as normal humans. Maybe, in absence of people who would join willingly, the Corps had even picked them off the streets, or from jail cells.

If that were the case, then the pink-skinned suit was pandering to a sympathy in Miyaji that didn't exist. He was going to put this dog back in a cage, he decided, and raised his arms dramatically. An unroofed cage exploded from the ground, trapped Miyaji and three of the ruling demons, and finally closed at the top. One of his foes was a large, muscular male with a blocky, oversized jaw and equally bloated hands. Another was a woman with a thinner build, short spikes projecting from her arms, and sharp, angled eyes accentuated with red tribal markings. The third was a priestly, sickle-wielding elder whose face was wrought into the still, perpetual smile of a madman.

"You three are more than a match for him," the chief said, turning to a point where he could observe both fights in his peripheral vision. The two slayers were dogs. Miyaji, he'd caged, and Kazu, he'd chained, stopping the swing of the latter's sword and leaving him to fend off three fiends with one arm. Now, the rosy-faced devil wanted to see some tricks. "Entertain me!"

 

[Clite of Dragonbow]

Kazu couldn't move his main hand... Great, it begins just great. Three demons vs one wounded and tired Demon Slayer... Greeeeat...

Well, at least he wasn't alone now, so his chances aren't as slim as zero, but they are slim anyway, very slim...
First demon rushed at him quickly and kicked him in the head. Kazu's vision became completely blurry and he couldn't dodge another blow that another demon gave him. Third demon hit Kazu with a headbutt and a lot of blood cane from the injury that he got on a head. Blood dripped from the left side of the head and he was forced to close one eye. He was still pummeled by the demons, he took his second sword and was trying to block or dodge the hits. He menage sometines to wound one demon. Cut off their leg or hand, but before he could continue and go for a head, their 'boss' used his blood art sending poles aiming for arm or head and tried to knock down Kazu or at least stop his attack. He couldn't manage to do anything. After a while of being angry and full of adrenaline, he stopped, he calmed down. Probably due to a blood lost.. He remind himself about his master's technique. He didn't master it yet, it wasn't really safe, but he didn't have choice as he didn't really feel like dying today. His lack of movements lured one of the demons, thinking that he already died.
"That's what you get for attacking your own client" said the demon and rushed at him, he bit Kazu shoulder and suddenly Kazu moved. He didn't cut anything but made quite huge wound in Demon chest that could get worse, if demon didn't pushed himself away from Kazu.
"You dumb!!.. You are gonna play with us?" asked the demon in rage, he was probably the most emotional out of them.
Kazu took a deep breath and manage to take something from his uniform, his arm soaked in blood from a wound after demon's bite. He took a small pill and ate it, after that he focused and changed his breathing.

Thom Thom Thom

Kazu's blood vessels started bulging on the surface, and the rate of his blood lost raised. It would be better to use it earlier, but he didn't thought he will need an unfinished technique.
"*pant* Breath of Thunder...*pant*... Secret Style: Lightning Limit Removal" he said weakly, almost whispered.

---
"Huuuh? His tehnique isn't a new attack?" said Kazu as he read his letter on the way to the desert village of some sort. In the letter, there were a message and a few pills. Message was his master last will and gift, the Eight technique that he created himself.
< I know it may sound weird that the technique isn't just another way of attack > said a part of the letter. <Kazu, breathing is an essecial part of life. I figured out that our brains work depends on breathing too. Including reaction time too, electric impulses are the reason of our body work as they send message to our muscles and technique can speed up sending of those messages.
Brain also set a 'limit' on our muscles, as no human use more than his 30% of strenght potencial to not hurt himself or break anything, the tehnique forces to get rid of that limit, raising your strenght. It isn't a technique without a minuses however... Due to a raise of your body work, your heartbeat gets faster too as heart have to work a lot harder, if you use it for too long. You can demage your heart, blood also travels through your body faster and if you are wounded, it may came out from your injuries faster. Your muscles can get damaged too...You won't probably use it full potencial too and mantaining it needs more focus than simple focused breathingyyou usually do... That's why it isn't finished yet... If you had to use it, then use it when more than just your life is in danger. Those pills I gave you gonna help you to trigger your technique, if you will need it, but may not be able to use it yet>
---

He glanced at Miyaji and the people that was bringed to those demons. "I think thats a good moment..." Kazu stuttered weakly. He could hear his heartbeat as it gots faster. Thom...
Two demons were cautious, but the one that was mad after Kazu sudden attack still didn't calm down.
"If thats everything then die already!" demon yelled and rushed at Kazu. Kazu didn't waste time, in the moment demon rushed he aimed with his sword to cut off the head. Demon foresaw this and raised one of his hands to redirect Kazu attack, as he did earlier to protect himself from Kazu's slashes, but this time was different. Kazu's sword cut through demons palm and later cut off his head. The demon fell at the floor in front of him, his hand grabbed Kazu's leg as he slowly turn to ash, cursing at him. Kazu felt it, his muscles hurt, wounds from his fight with Basano opened again and bleed. His vision was blurry and his hearing got weaker by a minute, but he was still conscious and he could keep fighting.
The two demons didn't wait for Kazu, they didn't seemed to be sad due to their friend's death. One of the demons blocked Kazu's hand another rushed to pierce Slayer's chest with his hand. Kazu before he got hit, headbutt the demon that rushed at him and then did the same with the one that blocked his hand. Both demons didn't expect that and they lost focus for a while. Demon loosened his grip on Kazu hand that used the ocasion and cut off demons head. He was about to finish the last one, but three poles were sended at him. One hit his arm and disarmed him, another two hit his chest and almost made him lose his breath. Kazu vomit the blood, he wasn't feeling well...
Demon regained his focus and pummeled Kazu again. Kazu kicked the demon. He needed to get his sword. His chained hand still held the other sword. Kazu wanted to take it with his free hand, but demon noticed this and grabbed demon slayer's arm. However, Kazu were stronger than earlier and didn't need to fight with two or three demons now. He pushed demon away, quickly grabbed his sword and cut off demon's head. As the last demon yelled and slowly dissapired, Kazu noticed that chains could get slightly weakened. He didn't know the reason, but he didn't have time to think about it, he manage somehow to cut this chain and release himself. Although it was really hard and he thought for a while that even with raised strenght, it will be impossible. But he managed to get free...

He slowly moved to the leader demon and after few seconds, as he grabbed his second sword and moved for about one meter. He almost fell at the ground and he need to use his swords to remain standing on his legs. He bleed from his wounds, some were really heavy and he thought that he may pass out soon.. But he couldn't.
" Seems that I gonna be in hospital for a long time after this..." he mumbled and panted.. He smiled weakly after he looked up at the demon and added "I just need to beat you up before passing out..."

@E.K.A.N.S.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

As the room shook and a cage rose up around him and Kazu, Miyaji narrowed his eyes as the three demons that stood before him stared him down with sinister grins. He swiveled around to scan his surroundings, but suddenly a voice boomed almost right next to his ear, prompting the slayer to wince and whip his head to face the direction of the sound.

"Heyyy, little man!"

His decision to briefly ignore the demons had been a mistake, and reaction was too late; Miyaji's head met a mighty backhand by the tall, muscular demon, flinging him across the cage. Miyaji tumbled and rolled across the rough floor, suffering many scrapes as he skidded across stray rubble before slamming against the wall. There had been no time to breathe either, and as he attempted to shake away the stupor of taking such a sudden attack, the spiky female demon came into view, lunging at him with a maniacal giggle as a spike protruded from her palm. Cursing under his breath, Miyaji gripped his Naginata and used the middle of the shaft to block the stab and force the demon's arm upward before rolling away.

"Aw, that's no fun," the demon pouted, a brief frown of disappointment on her face; however, it quickly turned into the same malicious smile as before as she then jumped and spun in midair, aiming a strong back kick at Miyaji's torso. Unable to respond in time yet again, the slayer was knocked backward with a grunt before landing at the third demon's feet. Yogen, the sickle-wielding demon, stared down at him with the smile that seemed contorted into his features before making a deft swing downward with his blade. Miyaji barely managed to avoid the attack, but he still suffered a nasty slice at his side as he jumped back, still maintaining a tight grasp on his weapon as he glared at his new assailants.

"You got too excited again, Ibara," Yogen chided, his mouth eerily still as the words came out.

"Hey, we both knew he was probably vulnerable at that moment," the female demon whined as she yanked her palm spike out of the stone it had easily pierced and blowing on it before it retracted back into her hand. "And I'm a bit hurt you're only saying that to me and not this musclehead, who was the first one to attack."

"Well, you are the only one who missed, so technically you're the only one at fault," Renga responded with a hearty laugh. "Though, he does look weak already; I could've taken him out if I put some more power into it."

Breath of the Volcano, Eighth Form: Spear of Igneous Resolve.

Suddenly, the tall, muscular demon was flung back and pinned against the wall by a blur that was soon revealed to be Miyaji's Naginata, impaling Renga's chest. The slayer lunged forward and pushed his blade further through the demon to keep him there as he muttered, voice dripping with contempt. "You all talk too much."

Miyaji then yanked the polearm out of Renga before stepping back and leaping upward, diving down as he aimed a direct slash at the demon's neck. Fifth Form: Crashing Down of Molten Rock! The attack had connected as the sound of tearing flesh followed; however, looking up at what should have been a decapitated demon, the slayer's eyes met a smug grin instead as he saw what looked like a measly scrape that seemed to barely inconvenience Renga. With an amused giggle that gradually became a haughty cackle, the demon knocked the Naginata out of Miyaji's hands and quickly followed with a straight uppercut to the stomach. As the wind rushed out of the slayer's lungs, he flew across the cage and slammed into the wall, dropping to the ground with a sickening thud. The three demons' laughs slowly began to decrease in volume as Miyaji coughed up blood and clutched his side, drifting to unconsciousness...

 

[JadeStar]

Akane walked down the quiet streets of the small town she was currently at. She walked along with Dolan, who she enjoyed to spend time with since he was easy to talk to. The cool air felt nice on Akane's skin and the weather was nice and calm. Ever since her close to death encounter, she had began to enjoy the simple things, like weather, a lot more. She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled, enjoying the simple moment.

"So why are we here again?" She asked the male demon slayer next to her.

It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the walk, but she felt weird without knowing the purpose or destination. But those thoughts quickly faded as she saw a small antique shop a few feet away. The memories of her battle against Silence came rushing to her thoughts. She remembered how Kazu did most of the work and she managed to get the finishing blow. Then she wondered if Kazu was still alive, he had left so sudden and even returned the gift she had gotten him, which was rude. She figured it would be nice to give something to Dolan, he did basically rescue her. Miyaji was in her thoughts also, but she had no idea where he was.

"Hey Dolan." Akane said, keeping her sight on the antique shop. "Can we make a quick stop at that shop?"

 

[ThAtGuY101]

It was quieter than Dolan had liked. No chickens, cows ,or donkeys were about making noise. A small reminder that he was no longer on his family farm. In a way this brought him joy as it was also a reminder that he was now a demon slayer. He did however hear the clomping sounds his horse made as well as the occasional snorting sound. He turned and petted Apri.

"Why are we where again? I don't know what your talking about. What do you mean here again?" Dolan said looking over at Akane slightly confused.

As they continued Dolan let out a big grin as they saw an old antique shop, "hoooooweeeey! Look at that ol' heap o' rust bucket store! I reckon I been to a few prety similar. Though this one feels a little different. Can't quite put my finger on it... My meemaw loves this old junk. She gots a whole entire room in the house filled with knickknacks and stuff" Dolan said cheerfully.

"Go inside? Thought you'd never ask! Well come on then, lets see if they got anything cool! My brother likes to look for cursed stuff ,but we never found any of that stuff at the antique shops we've been to" Dolan said as he walked over ,and opened the door. It was the gentlemanly thing to do after all ,and the way he was raised. His grandpa used to smack him one fairly good when he didn't open the door for a lady.

 

[JadeStar]

Akane smiled, but her eyes were clearly showing she was confused. It was difficult for her to keep up with what Dolan said sometimes, he used some words and phrases she couldn't understand. She actually depended a lot on key words to keep track of the situation. The best she could do was smile and nod.

"Thank you." Akane said as she walked into the antique shop.

As soon as she walked in, a cold chill ran up her spine and flashbacks of the dead body from her first mission came back. She couldn't help but to look down and sad. All the deaths that occured before she could take out the demon were partially her fault, and that bugged her. She took in a deep breath, feeling warm inside again and got her smile back.

"Good afternoon!" She called out, wanting to warn the owner they had customers, because she couldn't leave without buying something first.

 

[E.K.A.N.S.]

Quiet nights like this where Saito had time to himself were hard to come by. When he wasn't collecting sales records from each of the Suicide Squad's stores, training new recruits, or sculpting his latest work, he was here, running his own store, wearing a festive mask that concealed his demonic presence and whittling away at a block of wood by a candlelight. He could see just fine without it, for he was a creature of the night. But the fact that he welcomed the flame and avoided the pitch darkness of a starless evening cleared the room of any suspicion that he wasn't human.

The air would have been thick with it otherwise, since the two who'd entered were demon slayers. The comfortably-living people who disregarded Saito's kind as a myth wouldn't have recognized them, but the Branch Leader did instantly. Not only from the blades on their waists, but also from the troubled, pensive looks on their faces. The girl was so lost in thought that she forgot what time of day it was.

"Good evening to you too," the fiend joked back. The shop's shelves were lined with so many miscellaneous objects that following them was like descending from heaven to hell. Plates, snow globes, lockets, jacks-in-the-box, and other innocent trinkets became eerie-looking charms, the kind meant to ward off malicious spirits. The wings of carved birds grew and hardened into those of gargoyles, and the faces of quaint statuettes grimaced and fouled into the menacing expressions of monsters. Perhaps Saito had gotten carried away in his personal location and crafted scenes from his memories. His untiring demon body allowed him the full 24 hours in a day and plenty of time to lose himself in his passions, after all.

"Ah, those swords you're carrying. You two must be..."

The Branch Leader knew they were slayers and could defeat them easily, but he wasn't about to engage in a petty scuffle and potentially jeopardize the secrecy of his operation. Experienced killers like him heeded the Mystery Eater's philosophy of "peaceful coexistence," snatching their prey right under the Corps' noses.

"...out on a romantic stroll, with weapons to scare off evildoers who might ruin the moment," he instead assumed, eyeing Dolan with a grin and brandishing the block he'd been cutting. "How about I carve your lady something nice? What I have in mind is really popular with couples."

 

[ThAtGuY101]

As Dolan headed inside he began looking around scanning the room. Teapots, furniture, knickknacks ,and all sorts of odd trinkets. One trinket caught Dolan's attention. A old bronze pocket watch with a three tailed scorpion on the front. In the left eye of the scorpion was a small pinhole which went all the way through the watch. On the back were initials engraved, but were too worn to be able to read.

Dolan heard a male voice, "Good evening" Dolan said.

He turned to see Saito comment on their swords. Dolan ran his hand down his scabbard. "Mhm" Dolan said.

Dolan wasn't sure how to respond to Saito's following question, "Maybe" Dolan said.

"A carving? What kinda carving, huh?" Dolan asked. "Maybe Akane would like one" Dolan thought to himself.

 

[JadeStar]

Akane immediately turn her attention to Saito. He seemed like a kind person, although the mask was odd, she figured it wasn't her business to question his sense of fashion. What got her interest was the offer of a carving made specially for her. There were a lot of nice things at the shop, but something unique made for her made it more irresistible. Lucky for her, Dolan caught on and didn't reject the offer. But, the red headed demon slayer wanted to make sure she could get the item.

"Maybe?" Akane faked a surprised look. "He is a little shy, but you were right on almost everything. Our swords are for practice, we decided to do an activity together and a friend suggested we learned to wield swords and here we are!" She presses her left shoulder against Dolan's right. "Isn't that right boyfriend?" She hoped he would catch on, meanwhile she would try and change the subject. "So, you have my interest for this special carving, so please I would love to see an example!"

 

[ThAtGuY101]

Dolan continued to look at the pocket watch. His grandfather had one and perhaps Dolan would buy it. Perhaps he would keep it ,or maybe he would just give it to his dad or grandpa. Dolan was hoping the price of the pocket watch would be fair enough. He wasn't about to buy some overpriced watch. Dolan clutched the watch as Akane bumped into him. As soon as she called him her boyfriend he stood there silently trying to assess the situation. "I'm not shy. Atleast I don't think I'm shy?" Dolan thought to himself. "Mhm. Sword practice. I like practice" Dolan said with a cheerful grin.

Dolan was momentarily confused as to how to act, "Th- that's right hun. I too wanna see a carving example. What kinda material do you use? Also what sort of carving method do you practice?" Dolan said with a curious expression.

 

[OmnipotentOnion]

Suddenly, a wooden sword bonked Miyaji on the head, jerking him awake; however, rather than a chaotic mess of a demon-occupied throne room, he found himself in a familiar looking field of grass. He was even more confused to hear a familiar sounding voice above him.

"No, no, no; you were off. Again."

Unable to believe it was really him, the slayer looked up to identify the source of the voice, and his eyes widened in disbelief as he stared into the cool but stern gaze of his late master, Kenichi Miura. Immediately filled with an immense feeling of joy, Miyaji snapped to his feet, wanting more than anything to rush forward and hug his mentor, to tell him that he'd done it; he hadn't failed the Final Selection, and he hadn't failed Miura-sensei. He'd fulfilled his dying wish, and though he felt tears welling up in his eyes, the only liquid he felt on his face was sweat dripping from his chin. His body seemed to deviate from his mind's desires, and rather than stammered words through attempts to avoid crying, Miyaji spoke with a defiant edge.

★ ★ ★

"With all due respect, Miura-sensei, I don't understand why you've been having me do all this... dancing."

Recognizing this interaction from a particular day of training, Miyaji determined that he was viewing a flashback from his past, and he continued to observe. 'He might be trying to teach me something I've forgotten.' Miura-sensei had been having Miyaji focus on footwork without holding his weapon, and the slayer repressed a dry scoff as he relived once again the embarrassment of doing such ridiculous movements. The late Fire Pillar responded with a raised brow and gave Miyaji another whack on the head with his trusty bokken, a wooden sword specially made for administering solid strikes to any vital point.

"I've never had you practice any unnecessary movements for the sake of training, I'm sure you know that. You can swing your long, impressive sword as mightily as you want, as much as you want, but as long as your base and footwork are weak and rigid, you're guaranteed to lose every fight. For example, try the exercise I had you do yesterday. Maybe you can make it rotate at least once this time."

With a sigh of resignation, Miyaji shrugged and snatched his Naginata from the ground before approaching a tree. Fixed to the lowest hanging branch was a pinwheel with long, rectangular wings. After adjusting the wings' position, the student stepped backward and took a deep breath, getting into a battle stance. Then, with a clockwise spin of his feet, Miyaji slid the polearm forward, now gripping it near the very end of the handle. Extending his arm outward to further increase his range, he swung in a backhand motion as the tip of the Naginata's blade struck the top most wing of the pinwheel.

However, the toy moved ever so slightly, as if nudged by the tap of a finger despite the force Miyaji exerted in the attack. The Naginata then flew out of his hands, and the momentum flung him to the ground with a grunt. Grumbling to himself as he maneuvered into a sitting position, Miyaji reached over and grabbed his weapon before getting up, expecting to hear the amused laughter of Miura-sensei as he turned to face him. To his surprise, his master was nowhere to be seen until the distant movement of a waving hand caught his attention.

"I'm gonna fix dinner; once you make the pinwheel spin twice, come in. Hopefully the food won't be too cold by the time you get here. Remember: base and footwork!" Miura-sensei called, standing at the front door of his home before stepping inside. After a moment of shocked silence, Miyaji resumed muttering under his breath as he tightened his grip on his Naginata and returned to his original position.

★ ★ ★

Miyaji finally snapped back to reality and felt the cold, rough stone floor beneath him, scraping his face and hands. Renga's laughs and taunts grew more and more audible as the slayer gritted his teeth and forced himself back up on his feet, using his tattered sleeve to wipe the blood off his mouth and chin. The three demons had been chuckling amongst themselves until Ibara noticed the glare Miyaji now directed toward them and flicked Renga's arm.

"Oi Renga, the kid stood back up. Surely you're not getting weaker?"

"Eh?" The musclehead demon snapped, his voice laced with defiance and annoyance. "Of course not! Back off, both of you; I'll finish the job." His last sentence now dripped with malice as his face twisted into a sinister grin, and he suddenly lunged forward, sprinting toward Miyaji, the sound of his thundering footsteps filling the air and shaking the room. Renga then dived at the slayer, arms outstretched. "I'll rip you apart, little man!"

Watching as the demon quickly approached him, Miyaji slowly got into a fighting stance, clenching his fists as he began utilizing Constant Total Concentration Breathing. He was fully aware that he wouldn't be able to hold out for long in his boosted state, so he needed to kill the demons quickly if he was going to have enough left to deal with the chief; if not, he would certainly be dead. His Naginata was still on the other side of the throne room, behind the two other demons who were now wild with menacing glee, smiling from ear to ear.

As he gradually approached his target, Renga pulled his arm back, readying a straight punch to Miyaji's head in an attempt to knock him back down. However, as he lunged out to connect the attack, his fist met empty air as the demon slayer ducked and sidestepped to the right before lashing out and grabbing Renga's arm. His muscles strained and screamed with the effort of maneuvering a demon much taller and much larger than him, but he was successful: with a yell through gritted teeth, Miyaji spun counter-clockwise and flung Renga through the air and across the room before darting to the side. Now running on the walls around Yogen and Ibara and dodging the occasional slab or spire that attempted to hinder him—courtesy of the chief—he sprinted toward his weapon and plucked it off the ground before leaping off the wall and meeting the airborne Renga. As he tightened his grip on his Naginata and drew his arms back, Miyaji prayed to the gods for strength before letting out a roar and aiming a direct swing at the demon's exposed neck. Breath of the Volcano, Second Form: Hellfire Orbit!

The blade found its mark; Renga's head was separated from his body, and both fell to the ground and began withering away. As his head crumbled into ashes, his voice spewed out curses and shock upon being defeated by a human until finally, nothing of him remained.

Ibara let out a wild shriek, screaming, "Brother!" as she lunged at Miyaji, already armed with palm spikes and thorns protruding from her arms and legs. "You brat, I'll tear you limb from limb!" Yogen followed in close pursuit, brandishing his sickle as his eyes held the same insanity, though his mouth was still, cursed to remain twisted into a smile. "I'll enjoy watching you bleed, boy!"

What followed was a rapid exchange of blows: Miyaji blocked, parried, deflected, and sliced, though he sustained more injuries than he could give. All three of them, demon and human alike, were pumped full of adrenaline, but the feral intensity of the demons' attacks consistently gave them the edge in the battle. With a quick parry and kick to Ibara's stomach, the slayer leapt upward into an area of the cage clear of any large rubble or pointed stalagmites, and Yogen and Ibara now approached him from both sides. Miyaji was now surrounded and heavily injured; cuts and bruises marred his person in many places, and the two demons circling him were still more than raring to go. However, as he scannd his predicament, a smirk parted the slayer's lips, and he couldn't help but let out a wry chuckle. Kenichi Miura, you sly old hermit.

Yogen and Ibara let out malicious snarls before simultaneously lunging at him, and as Miyaji stood still, his grip on his Naginata loosened as the handle of the polearm began sliding downward. With sickle and spike at the ready, the two demons dove at him, ready to cut him up and skewer him, but suddenly, Miyaji then tightened his grasp on the weapon at the very end of the handle before widening his stance and drawing the blade back, as if preparing for a backhand swing. In a deft, circular motion, the slayer pivoted on his foot and spun, his arm extended as far outward as it could go. Silence followed, a silence so tense it was almost deafening, and finally, it was broken by the sound of two demons' heads falling to the ground. Breath of the Volcano, Ninth Form: Scattered Ashes.