Ma Gui beckoned Kawagishi, “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

  Kawagishi, with his hands clasped behind his back, replied, “Just wait a moment…”

  Ma Gui looked puzzled, “Wait for what? Hmm? What’s behind you?”

  A ferocious smile spread across Kawagishi’s face. “Of course, I’m waiting to draw my weapon.”

  With the wind howling, the Black Cutter materialized suddenly in Kawagishi’s hand. In one fluid movement, he rotated his body, driving the Black Cutter in a sweeping arc toward Ma Gui’s neck.

  The sudden appearance of this deadly weapon startled Ma Gui. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Ma Gui’s limbs, which had been sprawled on the ground, sprang up like a frog—he leapt high and landed directly above Kawagishi’s head, narrowly evading the Black Cutter aimed at his neck.

  “What are you doing?!”

  The Black Cutter’s initial strike missed, but Kawagishi attacked again. His lower body remained firmly planted while his upper body bent backward; he locked eyes with Ma Gui, who was still hovering above him.

  Responding to Kawagishi’s movement, the Black Cutter swept upward in a half-moon slash, its curved blade viciously plunging into Ma Gui’s spine. The arc of the blade cut through Ma Gui’s back and then burst through his chest, sending dark, demonic blood splattering onto the ground.

  Furious, Ma Gui roared, “What exactly are you doing?”

  Suppressing his pain, he spat; a long, slimy tongue shot out from his mouth, slick and covered with numerous backward-pointing barbs.

  “Disgusting,” Kawagishi muttered.

  He twisted his body, and with the curved blade wedged inside Ma Gui’s body, he forcefully slammed it down onto the ground.

  The tremendous impact jostled Ma Gui, causing his own attack to lose precision. With a scream, he was slammed into the earth with a resounding “Bang!” followed by a cacophony of “crack, crack.”

  A massive crash echoed as Ma Gui’s half of his body was crushed flat, large fragments of bone shattering away.

  “Why… why are you attacking me?” Ma Gui cried out in confusion.

  He could not understand Kawagishi’s sudden ferocity—just moments before, they had been chatting amicably. How could he so abruptly turn hostile?

  Though demons often behave unpredictably, this was a direct execution of the master’s orders—without any apparent mercy…

  Kawagishi’s face contorted into a monstrous grimace as he raised his hand and lifted the Black Cutter once more.

  “Bang! Bang! Bang!”

  Rather than merely slashing, Kawagishi pounded Ma Gui repeatedly against the ground.

  Ma Gui, whose body had been torn apart by the axe’s edge, soon lost all ability to resist under Kawagishi’s relentless blows.

  He struggled to regenerate, but Kawagishi’s merciless assault left little chance for recovery.

  “You… still can’t kill me…” Ma Gui gasped.

  “Wait until my comrades arrive—you’ll be dead before you know it…”

  “They’ll be here very soon,” Kawagishi stated coolly, his mind momentarily clearing as he recalled that three more demons awaited his retribution. He could not waste too much time on Ma Gui.

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Kawagishi replied.

  “But there’s one thing you’re wrong about.”

  “It’s not that I can’t kill you—I just wanted to vent my anger…”

  Earlier, when Kawagishi had first struck and nearly crushed half of Ma Gui’s body, he had been capable of easily decapitating him. Yet, in a fit of blind rage, his eyes reddened, and he merely sought to pulverize Ma Gui into a bloody pulp.

  Ma Gui coughed up fresh blood, a twisted smile forming on his lips. “You ignorant brat—you still don’t have a Nichirin Blade. How do you expect to kill a demon without one?”

  “Do you really think you can attack me until the sunlight rises? By then, my comrades would have torn you to pieces.”

  Kawagishi’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Oh, really?”

  With a swift push forward, the Black Cutter slashed from Ma Gui’s chest and abdomen up to his head, cleaving him in two.

  But Ma Gui’s blood and flesh writhed as they frantically attempted to rejoin; the already split figure cried out in a maddened, desperate tone, “See? It’s useless! Without a Nichirin Blade, you can’t kill me!”

  Kawagishi shook his head and cast a compassionate look upon Ma Gui’s pitiful, mangled form. “I only wanted to draw out your axe, to deliver one final, decisive blow…”

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  Ma Gui’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You… you…”

  In a flash of cold, ruthless axe light, Kawagishi’s swing severed Ma Gui’s head, which fell with a resounding clatter.

  Ma Gui’s mocking smile vanished, replaced by a scream of terror.

  “You… this axe of yours—how does it resemble a Nichirin Blade…?”

  Ma Gui sensed that he could no longer regenerate; his consciousness was fading, and he was doomed.

  Kawagishi said, “You know, I originally considered naming it the Nichirin Axe—of course, just like a Nichirin Blade…”

  “Go on, and in the next life, do not become an evil demon again.”

  Ma Gui’s shattered body gradually turned into sprawling black-red ash, and his resentful gaze softened into one of calm, as though recalling memories of his human life.

  After a grateful glance at Kawagishi, Ma Gui closed his eyes. Kawagishi felt as if he could see a figure made of white light detach from Ma Gui’s ghastly body and fly off to some unknown destination.

  “Just like Black Wolf Fang…”

  “Do demons, when dying, have their twisted nature restored to normal?”

  At that moment, Kawagishi spread his Scorching Feathers, intending to absorb Ma Gui’s body.

  But to his surprise, the Scorching Feathers did not emit any hunger—they had been ravenous when absorbing Black Wolf Fang’s essence, as if starved for thirty days.

  Now, however, they felt strangely subdued.

  With a resigned sigh, Kawagishi actively controlled his Scorching Feathers to draw in all of Ma Gui’s black-red ash. Although the feathers appeared reluctant, he had no choice; he needed to feed on the demon’s energy to replenish his strength and even enhance his power.

  After absorbing Ma Gui, Kawagishi clenched his fist; his demonic body grew stronger, and he felt a sense of fullness, as if he would not be hungry for a while.

  Just as demons have a limit to how much human flesh they can consume, so too did Kawagishi have an upper limit. He needed to keep fighting to expend energy and convert the absorbed demonic energy into his own strength.

  Of course, he couldn’t absorb everything perfectly—the conversion process wasted eighty to ninety percent of the energy—but it would still considerably augment his power.

  Yet Kawagishi frowned, for the memories he had expected to absorb from Ma Gui never arrived; it seemed that his Scorching Feathers had filtered out Ma Gui’s recollections.

  “Scorching Feathers, what criteria do you use for absorption?” he wondered aloud.

  No answer came; the feathers remained silent.

  The usage of Blood Demon Arts required careful personal refinement, and Kawagishi’s understanding of his Scorching Feathers was still in its infancy. He would have to learn gradually.

  “There are three more demons—I must hurry.”

  “We cannot allow them to annihilate this town.”

  Akaza sat upright atop a sturdy tree branch outside the town, using his Blood Demon Art to sense the happenings within the town below.

  His Blood Demon Art, known as Destructive Kill, centers on a technique called “Destructive Kill: Luo Needle,” which relies on detecting the unique fighting spirit—the very qi that even newborn infants possess and that clearly reflects a person’s condition, though most humans cannot perceive it. Akaza’s art is built entirely on sensing this qi.

  With his eyes closed and his eyelashes trembling ever so slightly, he murmured, “Over there… I sense two streams of fighting spirit intertwining. Hm? It seems Ma Gui’s aura has vanished.”

  Slowly, Akaza opened his eyes. “It appears there is a Demon Slayer among them,” he observed thoughtfully.

  He pondered, “I wonder if he’s strong—and whether he’s worth my intervention.”

  Although Akaza already knew of Ma Gui’s death, he paid it no heed; instead, he continued to keenly sense the remaining qi, curious to gauge its extent. The fighting spirit was not weak, yet it still couldn’t match that of Wuguo or another demon—but qi alone is not the sole measure of strength for Akaza. He hoped that Kawagishi might yet exhibit superior performance.

  Just then, a soft, gentle breeze swept by. Akaza’s eyebrows arched as he swiftly dodged out of its path and turned his gaze toward the newcomer. “Interesting…” he murmured.