Myriad Forest Ambush, Water and Flame Fight the Enemy Together

Defiled Wood Mountain.

Pale green mist swirled wildly through the forest as if it cost nothing, casting the shadows of the trees into bizarre shapes.

Giyu Tomioka stood at the foot of the mountain, his red haori painfully conspicuous against the gray-green backdrop.

He tilted his head up slightly, his pale blue eyes reflecting the lifeless mountain forest.

"Caw—"

Kanzaburo, the Kasugai Crow on his shoulder, shifted his claws restlessly and called out in his raspy voice:

"This is the place... That smell is really strong."

"Be careful, Giyu. None of the poor bastards who went in before managed to crawl back out."

"Mm."

Giyu answered, his voice as still as the surface of a frozen lake.

He rested a hand on the sky-blue hilt of his Nichirin Blade, and its icy touch gave him a tiny bit of reassurance.

Without a moment's hesitation, he stepped into the green mist.

Visibility plunged in an instant. Beyond ten meters, it was impossible to tell a person from an animal.

The trees around him grew crooked and twisted, their bark peeling away in patches like diseased skin, exposing ominous gray-black wood beneath.

He walked with extraordinary care, his eyes sweeping every suspicious shadow like searchlights, his ears pricked to catch even the sound of a pin dropping.

After walking for about the time it took an incense stick to burn, he had encountered no attacks, only the increasingly choking poison mist and the suffocating silence.

But another smell was beginning to drift through the air.

A faint whiff of blood, and... the scorched smell of something that had been burned.

Giyu's gaze sharpened. He sped up and shot toward the source of the smell.

He passed through a dead forest as dense as a maze, and the sight before him made him pause.

A fairly open clearing lay in a mess, as though a tornado had swept through it.

For dozens of meters in every direction, trees lay toppled or snapped, many of them burned black. The ground was pitted and scarred with trenches cut by blades and marks left by fire.

Several swordsmen in Demon Slayer Corps uniforms lay sprawled in the middle of the clearing, their condition impossible to determine.

Beside them, a figure knelt on one knee with his back to Giyu.

He braced himself on a Nichirin Blade still wreathed in orange-red flames, panting like a broken bellows.

The man wore a standard Demon Slayer Corps uniform, and the badge on his shoulder marking him as A-Rank gleamed brightly.

He looked sturdy, but now he was hunched over, his breathing ragged and uneven, each cough filled with a stifled pain.

This was the A-Rank swordsman, Akamatsu Enjirō.

The surrounding mist churned more violently, and more twisting dark shapes could be seen in its depths.

They seemed to have been held back for the moment by the ring of weakly burning wreckage and had not rushed forward, but their man-eating malice was almost tangible.

Giyu's arrival instantly became the focus of everyone present.

Akamatsu struggled to turn his head. His face was paper-white from poison and blood loss, but his gaze remained defiant.

When he saw Giyu, especially his uniform and the sword at his waist, hope flared in his eyes. He craned his neck and shouted hoarsely:

"Careful... the mist is poisonous... the demon can control trees... its main body is hiding..."

Before he could finish, the situation suddenly changed!!!

As if excited by the arrival of a new "toy," the mist churned like a boiling pot, and the "Wood Demons" around them, which had barely moved until now, suddenly went wild!

In an instant, more than twenty Wood Demons of bizarre shapes emerged from the mist, howling as they lunged at Giyu and Akamatsu!

Akamatsu roared and forced himself to draw a breath. The flames on his Nichirin Blade flared up again with a whoosh, and he swung an arc of fire.

It drove back the three Wood Demons in the lead, but he staggered, a trickle of black blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Giyu's gaze turned cold. Just as the Wood Demons were about to surround them, he moved.

"Water Breathing: Third Form: Flowing Dance Movement."

His figure suddenly blurred, as though he had become an invisible stream of water.

His steps were light, almost leisurely, yet at the most critical moments he slipped between pairs of descending wooden palms and darted through showers of wooden spikes.

His sky-blue Nichirin Blade came out of its sheath, its flashing edge not particularly fierce, but swift and precise.

Swish! Swish!

Two cold flashes passed, and the roots a Wood Demon charging from the side used as legs were severed cleanly. It crashed to the ground.

Another Wood Demon tried to entangle him with its branches, but several of its most flexible limbs were sliced off.

But there were simply too many Wood Demons.

They seemed to know neither pain nor fear. Their severed limbs were quickly crushed underfoot by those behind them, and more attacks came without end.

Giyu frowned slightly.

One-on-one, these Wood Demons were probably about as strong as the weakest lower-level demons, but there were so many of them. Though their coordination was a mess, sheer numbers still allowed them to surround the swordsmen like an iron barrel.

I can't waste time fighting them.

Giyu made up his mind at once.

He had to get to Akamatsu first, check on the other Corps members, and gather some information.

"Water Breathing: Second Form: Water Wheel!"

His sky-blue blade traced a wider circle, like a rapidly spinning waterwheel, temporarily driving back the Wood Demons in a fan-shaped area ahead.

Giyu seized the opening and darted toward Akamatsu's "safe zone."

"Watch the ground!" Akamatsu shouted urgently.

Giyu did not stop charging, but an instant before his foot landed, he pushed off hard and shifted to the side!

Puff! Puff! Puff!

Several strange, thorn-covered vines burst from the ground where he had been about to step. Had he failed to dodge, they would have pierced straight through his foot.

Immediately afterward, a dense volley of wooden spikes shot from the mist on both sides, sealing off every avenue of escape.

Giyu's gaze did not change. He turned his wrist, his blade moving with him.

"Water Breathing: Fourth Form: Striking Tide."

The sky-blue flashes of his blade became wave after wave of "tides," knocking or deflecting most of the incoming spikes away.

But the spikes were too numerous and too fast. Several still grazed him, cutting holes in his dark blue uniform, and one even sliced his left arm, drawing a spray of blood.

A faint sting shot through him, but Giyu did not so much as twitch a brow.

He had broken through the final obstacle and landed beside Akamatsu.

"Thank you..."

Akamatsu panted and spoke quickly.

"I'm Akamatsu Enjirō, A-Rank. Flame Breathing."

"Six Corps members, all poisoned and unconscious. I've barely managed to protect them..."

"The demon's hiding in the mist, controlling these wooden monsters. I can't find its main body. The poison's reached my lungs, and I've only got thirty percent of my strength left..."

He spoke like a machine gun, but his account was clear and orderly. Though he was close to death, he still showed the qualities of an A-Rank Corps member.

"Giyu Tomioka, Water Breathing, Mizunoto Rank."

Giyu was equally concise. His gaze swept over the unconscious Corps members on the ground, including Murata, whose face had turned bluish.

He crouched and checked them quickly. Their pulses were weak but still present, and they were deeply poisoned. He needed to find a way to treat the poison quickly.

"Mizunoto Rank?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Akamatsu's eyes, but this was no time to ask about it.

After being briefly driven back, the surrounding Wood Demons began to close in again. The flames on the barrier of burning wreckage were almost out.

"We have to find its main body or break out."

Giyu stood, his gaze sweeping like lightning over the thick mist and the layers of Wood Demons.

His senses reached out like countless invisible tendrils, trying to catch the source of the sinister aura controlling everything.

But the mist seemed to block his senses, and the aura drifted about, making it impossible to pin down.

"I've tried,"

Akamatsu said with a bitter smile.

"It's cunning. It never shows itself."

"There's no end to these wooden things. The mist quickly makes their severed limbs regrow or reattach... My fire can counter them, but now..."

He coughed up a mouthful of black clotted blood.

Just then, the old, raspy voice drifted out from deep within the mist again, leisurely as a cat toying with a mouse:

"Oh? Another little insect has arrived... and a fairly nimble one at that."

"Boy who uses Flame Breathing, is this the help you were waiting for?"

"A Mizunoto Rank?"

"Hehehe... how disappointing."

The voice came from the left one moment and the right the next, impossible to locate.

"Still, something is better than nothing. Your flesh and blood, your fear, will all become stepping stones for me to climb higher!"

"Here, I am the forest, and the forest is me!"

"Myriad Forest Poison Miasma, Command Wood to Form Soldiers!"

"You can't escape. Struggle all you like; it'll only make this meal more entertaining! Hahahaha!"

Amid the wild laughter, the Wood Demons attacked again!

This time, they no longer charged in a disorganized swarm, but showed some simple coordination:

Several of the tallest Wood Demons lined up in front and advanced like a moving wooden wall;

The Wood Demons on either side looked for chances to lash out with branches like long whips;

Thorny vines launched sneak attacks from underground now and then;

And Wood Demons hiding in the rear kept hurling sharp wooden splinters!

The pressure suddenly increased!

Giyu and Akamatsu stood back-to-back, plunged into a desperate fight in an instant.

Akamatsu gritted his teeth and forced out what little Flame Breathing he had left. The fire on his Nichirin Blade flared again, though it was clearly weaker than before.

He swung his sword to cut through the branches whipping at him and used fire to drive back the Wood Demons in front, but his movements had noticeably slowed. Several times he was nearly killed, saved only by Giyu striking in time.

Giyu, meanwhile, brought Water Breathing's agility and defense to their limits.

Flowing Dance Movement let him weave through the cramped space, Striking Tide neutralized most of the ranged attacks, and Water Surface Slash precisely severed the most threatening limbs.

The wound on his left arm kept bleeding as he fought. Worse still, the prolonged, intense battle and the effort of maintaining Total Concentration Breathing at its limit were rapidly draining his strength.

The Wood Demons never tired, and though their regeneration was slow, it never stopped. If this continued, it was only a matter of time before they wore him to death.

I have to break this stalemate...

Giyu's mind worked calmly.

His senses probed the mist again and again like invisible tendrils, trying to catch the core's fluctuations.

But whenever he came close, the fluctuations would cunningly shift or disperse among the other Wood Demons.

A defense held long enough was bound to fail!!!

As Giyu blocked a heavy blow from a Wood Demon in front of him, the tremendous force drove him half a step back, slightly upsetting his footing.

He failed to completely dodge a wooden spike thrusting at him from a tricky angle on the right. It grazed his right ribs, bringing a searing pain.

Though it missed his internal organs, it left a deep gash, and blood quickly stained his clothes red.

Akamatsu's eyes nearly bulged when he saw it. With a furious roar, he desperately cut the wooden spike apart, but almost got swept up by another branch.

Both men were wounded. Akamatsu was too deeply poisoned and swayed on his feet; Giyu had expended a great deal of strength, his wounds were bleeding, and his breathing had begun to falter almost imperceptibly.

The Wood Demons surrounded them layer upon layer, seemingly without end. That aged laughter echoed through the mist, full of mockery and the smug certainty of victory.

The situation seemed to have fallen into a desperate stalemate of attrition, and the scales of victory were tipping little by little toward the demon.