He had the body of a tall man, but something about him was profoundly wrong. His spine was twisted in a way no human skeleton should allow, and his skin, a bluish gray, seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it, as if the darkness itself clung to his flesh. From his fingers sprouted long black nails, but none of that was the worst part.
The worst part was the mouth: wide open, packed with sharp teeth and dark gums, forming something that tried to be a smile without quite managing it.
And above it, murky eyes that gleamed with an animal greed, locked directly on Marcus.
"De... delicious..."
The voice came out raspy, as if he had forgotten how to form words.
"Bro... you smell so good..."
'Fuck.'
Marcus cursed inwardly, but on the outside his face didn't change a millimeter and he observed him calmly.
The demon slurped his own saliva with a disgusting sound, and then his eyes slid downward, toward the bundle Marcus was carrying in his arms.
"Just by devouring you... and the one you've got there..."
But his words cut off abruptly and his expression of greed froze.
"Huh?" He tilted his head. "...why are you carrying a demon?"
"..."
Marcus didn't answer.
Instead, he glanced over the demon's shoulder, toward the direction he had come crawling from. It was the road that connected to the village at the foot of the mountain.
"Were you planning to go to that village?"
His voice came out with no trace of provocation.
Because something seemed strange to him. Urokodaki cleaned this area regularly. Any demon prowling nearby should have been eliminated long ago. How was it possible that one had gotten this close to the village without the old man noticing?
Then the demon's attention returned to Marcus. "That was the plan... but now that I've found you, there's no need to go all the way there."
His eyes lit up again. The momentary sanity disappeared, and the madness of hunger flooded his face once more, as drool started dribbling from the corner of his lips.
"Just by devouring you... I'D BE MORE THAN HAPPY!"
Marcus looked at him in silence.
If he had been alone, being honest, he would have liked to play around for a bit. Test his skills in his normal state. Extract some information. Find out what was special about a creature capable of sneaking past a former Pillar's nose.
After all, this was the first "complete" demon he was facing on his own.
But then he looked down.
Nezuko was sleeping in his arms. Clean. Warm. Her hair still a little damp and that pink kimono smelling like soap.
And let that dirty, stinking, drooling thing get even a meter close to her?
Let a single drop of that filthy drool land on his Nezuko?
Not a chance in hell!
Leaning down, he set the cloth bag at the edge of the path.
Then he readjusted Nezuko in his arms, shifting her to a single hand. The other was free. And with it, unhurried, he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the sword at his waist.
Swish...
The sound of the blade leaving the sheath tore through the night like a sharpened whisper.
The steel caught the moonlight and returned it dyed in a pink glow that didn't belong to this world.
"Heh..."
The demon smiled at the sight. A wide smile, brimming with contempt.
"You think you're gonna fight back? With those scrawny little arms... and on top of that carrying that deadweight?"
Marcus didn't answer, and he didn't even take a stance. He didn't crouch, didn't tense his body, didn't plant his feet. He simply inhaled and threw a horizontal slash.
The movement was lazy.
The demon's laughter multiplied.
"I haven't even gotten close and you're already swinging your sword out of fea..."
The sentence died in his throat.
Because something changed.
A pink flame sprouted from Marcus's mouth and nose, coiled around his arm in a heartbeat, climbed up the handle, and devoured the entire blade.
The sword emitted a deep hum...
And then the flames exploded outward.
They expanded! They solidified! They took shape!
In barely a blink, the blade disappeared under an incandescent mass of pink flames that stretched forward like an unstoppable wave, condensing in the night air of the forest until they forged... a colossal blade.
More than twenty meters of pure luminous edge!
Which burned in the darkness like an aurora borealis.
"Breath of Desire. First Form: Valkyrie."
The pink glow flooded the entire forest, painting the trees, the stones, the trail, and the face of the demon, who a second before had been laughing and was now disfigured by a terror so absolute he couldn't even manage a scream.
"Wha—?!"
The demon tried to move. But instinct arrived too late. The command from his muscles collided with the reality that there was nothing left to do.
The blade was already passing through.
It was INEVITABLE.
Because of its colossal size, there wasn't that sensation of a clean cut that you associate with a sword splitting something in two. This was something different. Something much worse.
It was like an eraser sliding over pencil marks.
The section between the demon's neck and waist simply ceased to exist. It wasn't cut. It was pulverized.
All that remained was a solitary head, the expression of terror still intact, plummeting down alongside two legs that no longer had anyone to hold up.
The head bounced once against the dirt. The legs wobbled and collapsed. And before they fully hit the ground, both parts began decomposing into ashes that the night breeze carried away effortlessly.
By the time the last specks of ash were lost in the darkness, Marcus had already sheathed his sword and was crouching to pick up his bag, readjusting Nezuko in his arms, cradling her against his chest.
He didn't look back and resumed his pace with the same calm cadence as before, as if the path had never been interrupted.
He climbed the mountain trail under the same moon that kept shining, indifferent to what had happened below.
...
When he reached the cabin, Tanjiro still hadn't returned. As expected.
Marcus set Nezuko down in her spot carefully, put away the groceries in order, lit the fire, and prepared a simple dinner. Rice, vegetables, some pickles.
He ate quickly, set aside a separate portion, and brought it to the old man, who had temporarily moved to the storage shed.
Back in the cabin, he started preparing the beds.
He laid out his futon. Laid out Tanjiro's. And laid out Nezuko's.
His and Nezuko's ended up especially close. So close that at night, by just stretching out his arm, he could hook the edge of her futon and drag it next to his.
He contemplated the arrangement for a moment. Nodded to himself, satisfied, and went out to head up and look for Tanjiro.
He heard him before he saw him.
Clang Clang Clang
Metal against stone, over and over. Without pause.
As he got closer, he saw him.
Tanjiro was soaked from head to toe. Sweat, dust, and something that might have been mud covered his face and arms. His teeth were clenched so hard the muscles of his jaw were showing. And he kept striking. Every slash landed against the boulder with everything he had, sparking on impact.
Even so, the stone hadn't suffered any damage. The marks on its surface were shallow.
"Dinner time!"
Tanjiro stopped mid swing, his chest heaving violently.
He turned his head and looked at him with eyes that were halfway between total exhaustion and an absolute refusal to give up.
His face was covered in sweat, hair plastered to his forehead. Disheveled, tired, but with his back straight.
"G... Got it... I'll be down right away."
He wiped the sweat with his forearm, leaving a trail of grime. And before moving, he looked at the boulder one last time.
There it was, unmoved.
Frustration crossed his eyes again.
But then his fists tightened around the handle and the determination reignited in his gaze.
"Go on, go on. And wash up first, you're drenched in sweat. Don't go stinking up Nezuko."
Marcus shooed him off and stayed behind while Tanjiro disappeared down the trail, dragging his feet.
When the sound of his footsteps faded, Marcus was finally alone.
With a light push, he jumped to the top of the giant boulder. He sat cross legged, pulled from his chest a small flask of sake and a packet of peanuts he had been saving for the occasion.
He always preferred a cold beer. But sake would do.
He unscrewed the flask, poured himself a drink in the moonlight, and sipped without hurry. The peanuts were fried and crunchy, and the sound they made when he bit into them was the only thing breaking the silence of the mountain.
Everything was still.
As the minutes passed, the flask emptied and the peanuts ran out at almost the same pace. He tossed the last one in his mouth, chewed slowly, and tucked the flask back inside his clothes.
Even so, he didn't get up.
He sat there, letting his gaze wander around the empty clearing. Through the shadows between the trees. Through the corners where the moonlight didn't quite reach.
"It's been a year already..."
He spoke with a hint of something that wasn't exactly sadness, but rather weariness.
"And you still don't want to come out and talk?"
"..."
The clearing remained silent.
Not even the wind bothered to answer.
He waited a few more seconds... And when the silence confirmed what he already knew, he cracked a bitter smile and jumped off the boulder.
Looking around one last time, he started walking.
But he hadn't taken two steps when a voice rose up behind him.
"...Did you just kill a demon?"
Marcus stopped dead in his tracks and a flash of joy crossed his face, but he snuffed it out instantly.
Turning slowly, he saw her...
There, at the edge of the giant boulder, bathed in the silver light of the moon, a delicate figure had appeared.
________
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