Chapter 28 — Lower Moon Two
"Total Concentration… Wind Breathing…"
Asuka had no interest in talking.
His breathing technique surged through his body, heating his blood until it burned. Every ounce of his focus gathered into the twin blades in his hands.
He could already feel it—
The thick demonic aura coming from within the shrine.
It was far more vicious and terrifying than the demon he had encountered before, Red Swamp.
Shaking his blades lightly, Asuka stepped firmly through the shrine's gate.
Yet things unfolded differently from what he had expected.
He hadn't needed to search for his target at all.
Because the demon—wearing a dark patterned kimono—sat openly in the middle of the courtyard.
"Oh. So you've arrived."
The shrine's main hall was already a scene of devastation.
Blood snaked across the ancient stone tiles of the courtyard, soaking them dark red. The air carried the lingering warmth of despair.
At the demon's feet lay several mutilated human corpses scattered across the ground. One victim had clearly been disemboweled moments earlier—his abdominal cavity hollow, organs completely gone.
The demon glanced lazily at the murderous young swordsman approaching him.
His eyes rolled slightly, revealing the markings within them:
Lower Rank Two — Rokuro.
Strong.
The oppressive pressure coming from him struck Asuka instantly. His grip on the swords tightened.
Around the demon, the very air felt thick and heavy, as if weighed down by invisible force.
Seeing Asuka remain silent, Rokuro paused his chewing.
He casually tossed the half-eaten arm in his hand into the pool of blood and slowly licked his fingers clean with a crimson tongue, savoring the mixture of blood and shredded flesh.
"I thought it might be a Hashira at first. Nearly scared me to death, but it's not—"
"—Primary Gale Slash!!"
Before Rokuro could finish speaking, Asuka had already transformed into a streak of emerald wind tearing through the air.
Both blades struck together.
Blue-green wind blades howled forward, shredding through even the dense demonic aura surrounding the courtyard.
However—
"When adults are talking, children shouldn't interrupt."
Rokuro raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance, as though the attack had inconvenienced him.
At the exact instant Asuka's strike reached him, his body blurred strangely—like smoke blown apart by wind.
The devastating slash passed straight through his form.
Instead, it slammed violently into the vermilion-painted pillar of the shrine behind him, sending splinters exploding everywhere.
"Your sword style is far too straightforward, boy."
Rokuro's voice suddenly whispered beside Asuka's ear, filled with mocking amusement.
His bloodstained palm shot forward, striking toward Asuka's back with terrifying speed.
Asuka twisted instantly, bringing his Nichirin blade up to block.
CLANG—!!
When Rokuro's demonic hand struck the blade, it rang out like steel colliding with iron.
A massive force crashed through Asuka's arms, nearly overwhelming him. He immediately redirected the momentum, refusing to clash head-on, and summoned Wind Breathing once more to counterattack.
Rokuro hopped lightly backward, avoiding the incoming strike.
He landed precisely where Asuka had first launched his charge.
"Wind, huh? Ah… I remember now. You're that one from before…"
Rokuro studied Asuka with a curious smile.
"That woman with the high ponytail… what was her name… Suzune? I can't quite recall. Your sword style is the same. Was she your teacher?"
He chuckled cruelly.
"What a foolish woman. She was so close to killing me… but she exposed an opening just to save someone."
"Serves her right for dying."
The master's daughter…?
He did it?!
Asuka's breathing grew heavier.
The killing intent in his eyes slowly ignited.
"You wind swordsmen really are annoying… wasn't Ubume also killed by wind swordsmen working together? Though she killed one of them too, but honestly you people just—"
"Shut up!!"
For the first time, Asuka's emotions erupted so violently.
His body trembled. Blood surged toward his head uncontrollably, the veins on his forehead pulsing wildly.
During his two years at Hayama, many things had changed.
Most importantly—
For the first time in his life, he had experienced what it meant to have family and friends.
Images flashed through his mind:
Arasaki Tetsushin sitting alone in an empty room, staring into space with clouded eyes full of remembrance.
Rika silently crying before the graves of Kumeno Masachika and Arasaki Suzune.
Tetsushin.
Rika.
Kenji.
Shinsuke.
And the people they cherished.
They mattered to Asuka too.
And now—
The demon before him was insulting his family.
"Don't you dare say their names with that filthy mouth of yours!"
"Wind Breathing — Black Wind Mountain Mist!"
The colorless Nichirin blade in Asuka's hand trembled violently.
Then—
Under the surge of his overwhelming fury—
The blade turned black and crimson.
Asuka shot forward once again.
Every strike of his blade carried his entire being—an eruption of rage meant to tear the demon apart.
A cross-shaped vortex of wind blades spun violently, shrieking as they crushed the air itself.
They ripped through the courtyard, tearing open the ground as they devoured the demonic figure standing at its center.
Stone tiles shattered one after another.
Even Rokuro looked surprised at the overwhelming momentum.
"This brat… something's wrong with him…"
Rokuro had survived from the final years of the shogunate until now.
Not because of overwhelming strength.
Not because of exceptional intelligence.
But because of simple principle:
Extreme caution and carefulness.
From the moment his Blood Demon Art had been destroyed earlier, he had already concluded—
The person in front of him was definitely not a Hashira-level swordsman.
A swordsman this powerful—yet still within his ability to handle—was the most nourishing prey imaginable.
Otherwise, Rokuro would have fled long ago.
But at this moment, the full force of Asuka's attack carried his killing intent and fury. At least for this strike, it posed a genuine threat.
BOOM—!!
Two devastating wind blades slammed down where Rokuro had been standing. Shattered stone tiles and dust exploded outward, and even the shrine's main hall trembled violently from the impact.
Yet Rokuro himself remained completely unharmed.
Or rather—he had nullified the attack.
His body blurred just like the faceless shadow-figures he created. His form twisted, distorted, and vanished from the spot—like a wisp of smoke scattered by a violent gust.
Moments later, Rokuro reappeared several steps away from Asuka, his expression slightly more serious.
"Blood Demon Art — Mirage."
He tilted his head and examined Asuka thoughtfully.
"You're pretty impressive, kid. How about we just call it a day and let me leave?"
He had already received part of his payment. There was really no need to risk fighting this unpredictable demon slayer head-on.
After all—
He was Lower Moon Two.
Surely the boy in front of him would understand when to back down.
Everyone lives, everyone goes their own way.
If they met again someday, they could deal with it then.
But Rokuro's "kind suggestion" fell on Asuka's ears like a spark dropped onto dry firewood.
"Leave?"
Asuka flicked the still-humming Nichirin blade in his hand, his gaze locking onto Rokuro's yellow eyes.
His grip tightened until the knuckles turned pale.
"The Demon Slayer Corps issued an order: eliminate the demon haunting Sendai."
His voice grew colder.
"That demon is you."
"And with the grudge from Hayama…"
"You're not leaving."
The fake smile on Rokuro's face froze slightly. He brushed the dust off his patterned kimono and looked at Asuka with mild confusion.
"Young man, don't be so stubborn."
"You and I are both just working for our superiors. Why fight to the death?"
He shrugged.
"The strong devour the weak—that's the natural order. Those workers… that female swordsman you care about… they died simply because they weren't strong enough."
"That's what separates them from people like us."
Rokuro spread his hands, almost friendly.
"I can tell you've got potential. Take a good look—I'm Lower Moon Two. If we fight to the death, what's the point?"
"How about we part ways?"
"You can go back and tell your people you drove off a Lower Moon."
"And I'll just move to another city and enjoy myself."
"Everyone wins."
The shameless proposal did nothing to move Asuka.
But after their brief clashes, he had clearly realized the gap between their abilities.
Even if Rokuro stood still and allowed himself to be attacked, Asuka's Wind Breathing couldn't strike the demon's elusive phantom body.
"…Blood Demon Art, huh…"
Asuka murmured softly.
The color slowly faded from the Nichirin blade in his hand.
He sheathed it.
To Rokuro, that looked like surrender.
A wave of relief washed through him. He had already begun thinking about which city he should move to next.
But in the very next second—
His expression froze.
Because the boy standing opposite him…
had changed.
His presence felt even more dangerous than before.
And the battered, worn blade in his hand—
Was beginning to emit a terrifying hum.