To the three of them, the difficulty of the Final Selection did not seem nearly as terrifying as Master Urokodaki had previously described. Aside from the initial mental test of slaying a demon for the first time, the subsequent battles had not presented much of a challenge.
Most of the demons imprisoned here were merely at a "trash mob" level, having devoured only a handful of humans. If measured through the numerical lens Natsunishi often used, their power levels hovered mostly between 40 and 60. As long as a newly debuted swordsman remained cautious and avoided being surrounded or encountering a "shiny" elite individual, their win rate in a one-on-one fight was actually quite high.
This was especially true for the exceptionally gifted Water Breathing duo. Even a demon with a power level of 60 did not possess an overwhelming absolute advantage in physical strength; their physical attributes usually accounted for about half that value, roughly thirty or forty. With the current physiques of Sabito and Giyu, supplemented by the comprehensive amplification of Breathing Styles, they were more than capable of holding their own.
Demons that lacked martial arts and relied solely on instinctual pouncing were no longer a fatal threat to swordsmen who had truly mastered Breathing Styles. Sabito took the lead as the main force. Under his mellow and fluid water-like sword techniques, he could easily emerge victorious even when besieged by two or three demons.
Giyu, while slightly weaker than Sabito, was adapting at lightning speed through actual combat. After his first kill, it was as if some sort of limiter had been removed from the silent boy. He began to grow at a pace far exceeding his training, faintly showing signs of closing the gap with Sabito.
As the final member of the trio, Murata naturally made his own contributions. Although he was extremely nervous, he did manage to liven up the atmosphere. It wasn't that he didn't want to slay demons; rather, given the exaggerated speed at which Sabito and Giyu dispatched them, he had only managed to trade a single blow with an ordinary demon before Sabito effortlessly decapitated it in passing.
Sabito's movements became increasingly practiced, and Giyu's fear dissipated rapidly. Rather than a life-or-death Final Selection, the event now felt more like a well-rehearsed practical exam. The three of them cut through the opposition, quickly penetrating into the depths of Mount Fujikasane.
They eventually stepped into a forest clearing that was unnervingly silent. The scent of blood grew heavy. Sabito frowned, raising a hand to signal the other two to slow their pace. Within a few steps, the corpse of a swordsman entered their vision. The body looked as though it had been pummeled by a massive force, with bones broken in multiple places.
Having been trained by Natsunishi, the two boys possessed a fair amount of knowledge regarding the human body. An ordinary demon couldn't possibly achieve this level of destruction. Not far away, a bloated, mountain-like demon draped in countless pale-green arms slowly turned around. At that moment, it was using its massive mouth—half-hidden by hands—to slowly chew on half of a swordsman.
The swordsman didn't seem entirely dead yet; the legs dangling outside the demon's mouth were still twitching slightly. The demon's gaze swept over the three of them before locking firmly onto Sabito's fox mask.
Crunch.
With a sickening sound of bone shattering, the swordsman's twitching stopped completely. A thick scent of blood assailed their senses, causing the hands of Murata—who had yet to experience a real kill—to tremble. No one had ever mentioned that such a monster existed in the Final Selection!
That massive size and grotesque appearance... Murata murmured, "No matter how you look at it, that's not the level of someone who's only eaten one or two swordsmen..."
The demon responded to his muttering with a shrill, mocking laugh. "To be precise, including the one I just swallowed, that makes forty-three."
Sabito and Giyu both furrowed their brows. The more humans a demon ate, the stronger it became—this was something Natsunishi had taught them. Forty-three people? Was this demon already approaching the level of the Twelve Kizuki?
"Oh my... a brat wearing a fox mask... hee hee hee..." The Hand Demon let out an ear-grating cackle, its gaze falling once more on the mask at Giyu's waist. "And two of them showed up at once."
"Let me think... ten, eleven... including you two, that makes thirteen."
Masks? Thirteen? A thought flashed through Sabito's mind, and his face instantly darkened. Master Urokodaki had mentioned that none of the children he had trained previously had passed the Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane. Though the exact number hadn't been specified, Sabito inferred from various conversations that it was around ten.
Which meant...
"Our seniors... were all eaten by you."
Though Giyu remained expressionless, the Nichirin Sword in his hand creaked under the force of his grip. The demon didn't care about their emotions at all; instead, it took great pleasure in provoking them. "What choice did I have? Those brats all wore Urokodaki's masks. The person I hate most is that bastard Urokodaki, who imprisoned me here."
"The thought of crushing them and making them die here... the thought of how much it will hurt that bastard's heart... it makes me feel so high!"
To the Hand Demon, whether it was the condescending attitude of the swordsman back then or the grudge of being imprisoned here, it harbored a bone-deep hatred for Sakonji Urokodaki. It would rather let most examinees pass just so it could lurk in the corners and crush every single brat wearing a fox mask.
"You could say it was Urokodaki who personally murdered—"
"You bastard!" Sabito roared in fury. Water Breathing surged at full power as his figure lunged forward like an arrow released from a bow!
The battle erupted instantly.
"Let me see how much skill you little foxes have." The demon manipulated its many arms, sending them twisting toward Sabito like a mass of tentacles. Nichirin steel clashed and collided repeatedly with the demon's limbs. The opponent's strength and defense far exceeded that of ordinary demons, but Sabito's sword techniques were far more refined.
Water Breathing flowed endlessly in his hands. After a brief period of maneuvering, he actually began to gain the upper hand. Giyu turned to Murata and said, "Stand back. (Murata, this is a battle for us disciples.)" Having spoken, he unsheathed his sword and joined the fray.
With his involvement, the situation became even clearer. Wounds began to multiply on the Hand Demon's body; its constantly regenerating hands were being severed repeatedly, falling like rain.
"You brats! How can you be this strong?!" the Hand Demon roared in frustration. Compared to the fox swordsmen of the past, these two were more than a level above in both strength and coordination. It had thought it was the hunter, but it now realized it was the prey. In its desperation, it frantically activated its Blood Demon Art.
More and sturdier arms sprouted, surging madly toward the two boys. Die! Die! Just die already!
It was at this moment that the tide of battle suddenly shifted. After several days of high-intensity combat and repeatedly cleaving through the demon's hardened bones, Sabito's Nichirin Sword finally reached its limit. As he parried a massive arm slammed down with all the demon's weight, the blade gave way.
Snap. It broke.
Giyu's pupils constricted. "Sabito!"
The Hand Demon naturally wasn't going to miss this opportunity. It had broken more than a few Nichirin Swords in its time and had long since gained experience in such moments. In its ecstasy, two enormous palms lunged through the wind toward the weaponless pink-haired swordsman.
"I've got you!" it thought.
However, the boy across from it remained unnervingly calm. He even had a sort of detached "so what if my blade is broken" attitude. A broken sword? In his sparring sessions with Natsunishi, he had rehearsed similar scenarios countless times.
As the senior had mentioned, the four basic skills of a warrior are Zankenshouki: Swordsmanship, Melee Combat, Footwork, and Deceptive Tactics. Losing a sword didn't mean losing the ability to act.
In the blink of an eye, Sabito's footwork shifted abruptly.
"[Total Concentration!]"
His body suddenly ducked low, and his lower body strength exploded. The boy left a faint afterimage as he slid sideways at an incredible angle, narrowly evading the heavy blow that should have crushed his skull. It was a footwork technique Natsunishi had guided him on, merging Water Breathing with a unique power-generation method.
Evading was not the end. His fists, empowered by Breathing Styles, gathered strength as he brushed past the demon. Like a hawk striking its prey, he landed precision blows on several of the demon's arm joints! Even if the arms were longer and sturdier, the weak points at the joints were fundamentally the same.
Amidst the dull thuds of impact and the cracks of breaking bone, pain traveled up the arms back to the demon's brain. Its missed offensive stalled. Before the demon could organize a second wave of attacks, it saw the pink-haired swordsman pick up a new Nichirin Sword from the ground. It was the weapon of one of the previously deceased swordsmen.
"Now then—" Sabito held the blade before him, his voice as cold as the freezing depths of a pool.
"Continue to count your sins."
-----------------------------------------------
I handpick only the finest and most captivating novels for you. Don't forget to check out my other novels!
p@treon HongMengZi