Five sharp spider threads swept sideways. Having seen how formidable they were, Tanjiro did not dare take them head-on and hurriedly leaped back to evade the attack.
He then intended to seize the chance to launch a surprise assault while the little boy was still in the middle of attacking and had no time to defend himself.
But just as he raised his blade and charged forward, the little boy suddenly shook his hands, and a hair-raising metallic twang rang out from all around.
Tanjiro smelled several spider threads closing in at incredible speed. With no other choice, he could only halt for the moment.
The farther forward he went, the denser the threads became. If he got too close and failed to kill the little boy in one strike, he would likely end up like the Demon Slayers before him—cut into pieces.
The most troublesome issue now was no longer detecting the threads' paths, but figuring out how to sever them.
If he could not effectively cut through the threads, then let alone killing the little boy, even getting close to him would be a pipe dream.
Tanjiro was frantic. He looked up at Nezuko suspended in midair, where several threads had sliced through her flesh and her vivid blood glimmered strangely beneath the moonlight.
As Tanjiro carefully dodged the sweeping threads and retreated to widen the distance, he racked his brain for a way to cut the threads and save Nezuko.
Suddenly, one thread sprang up from the ground like a rattlesnake with a metallic twang, shooting toward his brow.
Tanjiro's expression changed drastically. He hurriedly raised his Nichirin Blade to block it, but with a sharp clang, the thread shot straight through the middle of the blade and split it in two.
Had he not dodged in