"Ah~ It's been so long. Tell me, will a Hashira really come to save you weak little insects?" Under the broken temple eaves, a lean figure lounged lazily on the wooden floor, speaking with boredom.
"Cough cough... Just wait! You'll definitely be slain by our Demon Slayer Corps!!" A Demon Slayer member coughed up blood but still shouted angrily at the figure.
Swish!! Splurt!
"AHHHH!!"
Unfortunately, as soon as the member finished speaking, a brown light flashed by and his entire right forearm holding the sword was severed clean off.
Blood sprayed as other Demon Slayer members gasped in shock, calling out their comrade's name in concern.
"The weak should know their place. Who gave you the courage to offend me?" The figure spoke coldly as he stood up.
Emerging slowly from the darkness, moonlight revealed his features: a lean, sharply angular face with three distinct cross-shaped scars prominently displayed on his forehead and both cheeks.
Short black hair framed pointed elven ears adorned with small yellow earrings. Between slightly parted lips, sharp fangs were clearly visible.
But most striking were those orange-yellow eyes.
In the left eye orange-yellow pupil, the characters "Lower Four" were clearly engraved!
This was unmistakably a Lower moon demon!
The Lower moon demon green hunting attire still bore occasional leaf-like patterns.
He walked up to the kneeling Demon Slayer members, looking down at their angry, unwilling expressions with contempt.
Raising a hand, his sharp orange claws grabbed one member head, easily piercing the scalp as blood immediately flowed.
"Seems keeping you alive won't summon any Hashira after all. Pity. But killing so many Demon Slayers and severing a Hashira hand should suffice as tribute to that Lord. Heh, poor Rokuro" the Lower moon demon muttered to himself.
Then he raised his claws to tear apart the Demon Slayer members before him.
Suddenly!!
The demon expression changed as his body blurred backward in an afterimage!
A shrill whistle pierced the air as a green light descended from the sky, piercing precisely where the demon had stood.
BOOM!!
The ancient stone slabs shattered violently, debris flying everywhere.
When the demon regained his footing, he saw a green Nichirin short sword embedded where he had stood moments before, the blade still trembling from the tremendous impact.
"Oh? A Nichirin Blade?"
Swish!
Before the demon could react, Shinichi in his blue-green battle robe leapt down from the temple roof.
His sturdy deerskin boots landed firmly on the stone with a crisp tap.
Back turned to the demon, Shinichi first bent to retrieve the short sword Mori no Ryuu embedded in the stone, casually sheathing it at his waist before standing straight and turning to face the demon.
His heterochromatic eyes—one blue-green, the other peach-red—fixed intently on the Lower Rank demon as he frowned slightly.
"Lower Rank Four? Didn't one already die? Why is there another?" he asked curiously.
Upon hearing this, the Lower Moon Demon revealed a cruel smile.
"Oh~ So you knew that old fool Rokuro? Heh, what a useless guy, getting killed so easily. But it's just as well—if he hadn't died, how could I have climbed higher?"
Shinichi studied the Lower Moon peculiar face, deep in thought, when suddenly realization struck him.
He pointed his blade at the demon and demanded.
"You're the Lower Moon who injured the Wind Hashira aren't you?"
"The Wind Hashira? Oh! That guy in yellow? Now I remember. A shame, really. If dawn hadn't been approaching, I wouldn't have just taken his arm—his head would've been mine too. Hehehe" the Lower Moon cackled.
"B-be careful, Shinichi! Th-that thing... his power is unnatural!" Behind Shinichi, a Demon Slayer with bloodshot eyes and a contorted face struggled to speak.
Clearly, he had fought alongside Shinichi before.
The Demon Slayers were in terrible condition—some seemed deeply poisoned and one had even lost an arm. Without hesitation, Shinichi drew his Nichirin Blade.
"Forest Breathing, Second Form: Willow of Life!"
The sharp blade traced a fine cut across each injured comrade.
Ethereal green willow branches sprouted instantly, their potent vitality immediately mending the Slayers' failing bodies.
The Lower Moon watched with amusement, nostrils flaring slightly.
"Mmm~ What a delicious scent. What technique is this? Hey, brat! Are you one of the Hashira?"
Shinichi turned coldly, raising his dual-colored Nichirin Blade—emerald and crimson intertwined.
"Demon Slayer Corps, Kinoe Rank—Shinichi Moriki. Lower Moon, state your name so you won't die like the trash you are."
The demon lips curled into a grotesque grin.
"Hehehe, arrogant little fool! Even your Hashira wouldn't dare speak to me like that! Remember this, boy—the one who'll take your head is me! Lower Moon Four—Wakuraba!!"
The moment the words left his mouth, both Shinichi and Wakuraba lunged like streaks of light, clashing so swiftly their afterimages lingered in the air.
Clang! Clang!
Shinichi Nichirin Blade met Wakuraba iron leaf-shaped daggers—sparks flying with each collision.
Unlike Rokuro, who relied on brute strength and physical prowess in close combat (though his true power lay in his Blood Demon Art, making him reluctant to engage Slayers directly), Wakuraba was different.
His martial skills were refined, like a seasoned warrior, effortlessly parrying every one of Shinichi strikes.
Just as Shinichi grew solemn, Wakuraba was equally surprised by this young Demon Slayer.
Even after gaining the upper hand against the Wind Hashira, Wakuraba wasn't foolish enough to challenge others.
His bravado was merely a show—for the sake of that "certain someone" eyes.
When Shinichi first appeared, Wakuraba was genuinely taken aback for a moment.
However, upon realizing that Shinichi wasn't a Hashira, Wakuraba felt relieved and began to engage in combat with him.
Not until they crossed swords did he realize the truth—to Wakuraba astonishment, this young Demon Slayer named Shinichi possessed combat skills that were in no way inferior to the Wind Hashira he had fought before!6
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