Demon Slayer : Veil of Duality

"He's… a monster…" Takeshi said in awe of the man standing in front of him.

It was the third night of the Final Selection, and Takeshi had yet to encounter a demon. The only challenge he had faced so far was that of surviving the elements.

That was, at least, until he finally heard the sound of fighting—not too far from where he had set up camp.

But when he arrived, it was a massacre…

Takeshi stood atop a tree, looking down from afar at the giant blind man, who was currently fending off two demons, their hands drenched in blood from a recent kill.

The blind man was defending a fresh corpse—a young boy, no older than fourteen, already half-consumed, his body torn in two.

"You, you, you, how dare you stop me from feasting! You, you, you will pay, pay, pay!" the smaller demon roared, his stained brown teeth dripping with blood that soaked his feral green kimono.

"You wicked creatures shall not see daylight," the giant blind man responded, his face as solid as stone.

Both demons circled the man as he spoke, clear annoyance edging their expressions.

"Is that so? How arrogant you are, human. I will enjoy consuming your flesh!" the larger demon snarled, his ragged dark blue hair falling across his face as he replied.

Both demons, in unison, leapt at the man from opposite sides. Their superhuman strength and speed kicked up a cloud of dirt and dust.

Third Form: Stone Skin!

The giant man spun his dual axe-and-flail weapon in a circular motion, creating a sudden burst of force that exploded outward.

Both demons were violently torn apart into fine, bloody mist the moment they entered the muscular man's reach.

Takeshi watched in awe as the man's single attack took down not only the demons, but a few nearby trees. The demons' bodies were now unrecognizable, slowly crumbling into ash.

Is he even human?!

Takeshi thought to himself, as the giant man began to pray over the young boy's broken body.

The sound of rolling beads filled the air as the mountain of a man held them in his hands, murmuring a quiet chant before slowly rising.

Takeshi quickly jumped down from the tree he'd been scouting from, the sound of snow crunching beneath his feet as he landed.

He swiftly ran toward the blind man, who had already begun to wander back into the forest.

The man turned around quickly as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Do not step a foot closer, child," the man said bluntly, his face turned directly toward Takeshi.

"I mean you no harm, sir. I just came to check if you were okay?" Takeshi replied, his hand resting on his blade as the seemingly blind man looked straight at him.

"Yes, child. I am fine. You may continue on with your night," the large man said, before turning to walk away.

Takeshi stood in shock at the audacity of the man to turning his back on him. He couldn't comprehend how this man didn't even consider him the least bit of a threat.

"Sir… may I ask your name?" Takeshi asked quickly, just before the man vanished into the trees.

"My name? Very well, child. It is Gyomei," the man said bluntly, his head turned slightly back toward the boy.

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Earlier that day…

Gekkou fell to the ground from exhaustion, the thin layer of snow softening his fall.

He had been practicing his breathing forms for several hours, trying to optimize every possible step.

Gekkou stayed on the cold ground, his breathing heavy as he held his head up, the pain overwhelming him.

Each time he finished using one of the Thunder Breathing forms and inhaled, it felt like a sharp pain burst throughout his body.

It was a notable issue that had hindered him in the past—especially when he would spar with Takeshi.

The momentary pain would cause Gekkou to falter for a fraction of a second, just long enough for an opponent to exploit the opening.

Surprisingly, though, practicing basic concentration breathing didn't cause such pain.

So, after some analysis, Gekkou came to a rather grim conclusion:

His body wasn't suited for Thunder Breathing.

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Takeshi spent the rest of his night burying the young man, whose body was unrecognizable.

Not only was it to give the boy some form of final rest, but also to stop the likelihood of other demons scavenging the leftovers—especially since the body was relatively close to Takeshi's camp.

Though he never let his guard down while burying the boy's remains, he kept careful watch for any demons looking for a free meal.

He had laid the body in a shallow grave, placing the boy's torn spotted haori on top of him as a cover.

After filling in the hole, he stuck the boy's blue Nichirin blade into the dirt where the grave lay.

Takeshi looked at the sword—a likely gift from the boy's master, one who would never see his student again.

What had driven this boy to try and become a Demon Slayer? Takeshi wondered.

What was this boy's story?

Maybe he had lost his family, like Takeshi. Or maybe he had someone to protect?

Either way, Takeshi thought of all the people who had died during the exam and swore to himself he would not be one of them.

He had too much to lose…

The light of dawn peeked over the forest horizon as the third night of the exam came to a close—another night survived.

And just like that, three more uneventful nights passed, as Takeshi camped in a small cave that sheltered him from the elements.

He would sleep and hunt for food during the day, then guard the cave entrance at night, always making sure he had a way to escape if he became overwhelmed.

That was, at least, until the final hours of the last night—when the surviving participants had to make their way to the halfway point of the mountain, where the exam had first begun.

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Nagayuki darted from tree to tree in a frenzy, his eyes scanning the forest, his long tendril-like appendages wrapping around tree trunks as he moved.

It was the final hours before he would be cut off from eating humans again—for several months—until they allowed in the next batch.

He hadn't even gotten to eat one yet, and the all-consuming hunger was rapidly taking over. He couldn't wait months for his next meal!

He had been trapped on this damn mountain prison for years, and every day had been agony.

He had barely eaten more than five people since his capture.

The memory flashed through his mind—of the young Demon Slayer who had sliced off his whip-like appendages with ease before capturing him.

It was utterly humiliating. A child—so much younger, a mere human—had deemed him weak enough to take alive.

Nagayuki's demonic face twisted with rage, his orange pupils dilating, his baggy, torn brown hakama pants fluttering behind him as he swung through the trees.

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Takeshi ran through the mountain forest, his body now adapted to the thin, frigid air after a week of breathing it in nonstop.

Every step was careful and deliberate, his senses sharpened, his guard never dropping for even a second as he made his way down the mountain trail.

The soft crunch of snow beneath his sandals echoed through the quiet woods, the light flurry of snowfall gently hindering his vision.

Up ahead, through the blur of white, he caught sight of wisteria trees—tall and ghostlike in the distance. Their beautiful pink and purple petals swayed ever so slightly beneath the soft blanket of snow that clung to their branches.

The faint glow of the flowers against the pale backdrop looked almost dreamlike.

He was close. So close to achieving his goal. So close to becoming an official Demon Slayer.

Thud!

Takeshi instinctively jumped back as a figure dropped in front of him from above, kicking up snow and dirt.

It was a demon.

Its orange pupils were dilated and twitching, filled with mindless hunger.

It wore only a pair of torn brown hakama pants, its muscular upper body exposed to the cold, yet completely unaffected by it.

Thick cords of flesh extended from its shoulders down into long, tendril-like arms, each tipped with clusters of small, jagged fingers that flexed eagerly.

The demon's body was lean but dense with power, its pale gray skin stretched tight over muscle.

Wild, unkempt brown hair spilled down to its shoulders, partially covering its sharp face twisted in a wide, animalistic grin.

He stared at Takeshi for a moment, as if studying him—judging his strength.

Then he spoke.

"Yes… you should feed me for some time!" Nagayuki said with excitement, baring his teeth in a wicked grin, saliva beginning to drip from the corners of his mouth.

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"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

‭‭John‬ ‭3‬:‭16‬ ‭

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