Tonight was another full moon.
Cold moonlight blanketed the land. Amid the rolling mountain range, one mountain stood out conspicuously at the center, as though it were surrounded and upheld by the others, basking in the splendor of being the focal point.
On the mountain path, a group of more than a dozen young people, all dressed in Demon Slayer Corps uniforms and carrying Nichirin Blades, cautiously made their way deeper into the forest.
The surroundings were deathly silent. Not even the chirp of a bird or insect could be heard; only the members' footsteps and hurried breathing remained. The eerie atmosphere made cold sweat pour from everyone's palms.
None of them noticed several pea-sized white spiders emerging from the nearby bushes. Under the cover of night, they crawled onto the members' bodies.
Suddenly, one of the members at the front lowered his head and slowly turned around. He drew his Nichirin Blade and pointed it at the others, the blade scraping against its sheath with a piercing screech.
The group exchanged confused looks, unable to understand what was happening. Yet in such an environment, such a strange action naturally put many of them on guard. They took small steps back to widen the distance while tightening their grips on their sword hilts.
One of the members asked, "Nakamura, what's wrong? Did you find anything suspicious?"
The member called Nakamura mechanically raised his head. His face was full of terror as he trembled and said, "I... I can't control myself."
The moment he finished speaking, he brandished his Nichirin Blade and lunged at the two nearest members.
"Quick... get out of the way!"
One member failed to dodge in time and was struck across the face by the Nichirin Blade. Amid a shrill scream, bright red blood quickly gushed out.