Humanity harbors a dark side—this cannot be denied. Even the holiest of souls cannot escape having shadowed thoughts. But it’s the luminous facets of humanity—kindness, perseverance, courage, righteousness, tolerance, tenacity—that truly matter; these countless shining virtues, like innumerable brilliant stars scattered across the night, dispel the darkness. In contrast, the twisted souls of demons are defined solely by greed, cruelty, brutality, selfishness, and lies. They possess nothing beautiful—only the deep, suffocating essence of evil, and it is this evil that shapes a demon.
"I've learned that even if a demon retains a bit of humanity—say, thirty percent—the rest, the seventy percent of bestial nature, is already deeply ingrained."
"How dare you—a chaotic, utterly corrupt demon who obeys nothing but your savage instincts—have the nerve to debate natural law, human decency, or the order of things with me?"
Black Wolf Fang fell silent. (You’re a demon yourself—do you really think you’re human?)
But Kawagishi regarded himself as human. Even though he had become a demon, he had transformed his body without losing his human heart. My blade is reserved solely for those flesh-eating demons.
Furious, Black Wolf Fang seethed, his anger burning. How dare he, a demon with only his basest instincts, compare himself to a human? Demons are higher beings than humans; to lump me in with beasts is an insult.
"There's a flaw!" Kawagishi observed sharply. In battle, uncontrolled emotion—be it anger or fear—is lethal. Only rational, precise counterattacks can secure victory.
"Scorching Feather: Celestial Blade!" Kawagishi roared.
Earlier in the melee, Kawagishi had refrained from fully unleashing his Scorching Feathers—instead using them to gain momentum or to distract his foe. It wasn’t that he lacked the energy; he had simply planned to lull Black Wolf Fang into a false sense of security, waiting patiently for him to lower his guard so that a decisive opening might appear. In combat, Kawagishi had transformed into a cold, relentless killing machine. Despite the ferocity of his actions—exchanging blow for blow with wild abandon—his inner resolve remained unmoved.
The Scorching Feathers can be used in various ways, but if deployed too early, Black Wolf Fang would merely evade them, and at worst, suffer a grievous injury that, for a demon, is like a drizzle. Thus, Kawagishi intended to end the fight in one definitive stroke. He feigned fury, simply to mislead Black Wolf Fang into thinking his energy was spent. Fortunately, his ruse worked. Already, Kawagishi’s bones were creaking under the strain of the Fire God Dance Breathing; if Black Wolf Fang had not exposed a single weakness and continued to fight with a frenzied yet cautious style, Kawagishi would have been powerless. But now, the opportunity had come.
In a fit of rage, Black Wolf Fang abandoned his vigilant guard. He launched one of his vicious claws straight for Kawagishi’s neck with a cunning angle and blistering speed. The nail, sharpened along the knuckle, pierced deep into Kawagishi’s throat, eliciting unbearable pain, while Black Wolf Fang’s eyes blazed with murderous intent as he prepared to tear the neck asunder.
Yet in that fateful moment, a brilliant white light suddenly descended. Black Wolf Fang, reacting on instinct, raised his sword to block—but his hurried defense proved futile, the blade’s momentum faltering as it was simply cleaved apart. Amid the chaos, Black Wolf Fang’s head jerked as he sensed something slicing into him; the next instant, his left side roared with burning pain as if set aflame, and his grip on Kawagishi’s left claw weakened, forcing him to release it.
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“You… said you couldn’t use Blood Demon Art anymore?” Kawagishi rasped, his throat nearly torn apart. In a hoarse, bitter voice he replied, “That was all a ruse—to deceive you.”
“Fool! You’ve tricked me three times now!” Black Wolf Fang thundered. “If our strengths were truly even, you’d have died three times over by now…”
Even as blood spurted from his ruined throat, Kawagishi ceased speaking, his gaze fixed in an unreadable intensity.
Then, from Black Wolf Fang’s left shoulder down to his right waist, a white light began to shimmer. Kawagishi reached out and pushed—and Black Wolf Fang’s body fragmented into two irregular halves that collapsed onto the ground. The wound on Black Wolf Fang’s body burned with a charred, black heat, devoid of blood—a testament to the searing high-temperature damage inflicted by Kawagishi’s Scorching Feathers.
Earlier, as Black Wolf Fang had gripped Kawagishi’s neck, the Scorching Feathers on Kawagishi’s back had erupted, almost like decorative ornaments in the melee. In a flash, they soared upward, their edges razor-sharp and densely packed, forming a colossal, three-meter-long white wing-blade that descended with savage intent toward Black Wolf Fang’s head—aiming to cleave him in two. Although Black Wolf Fang’s reflexes allowed him to tilt his head away from the fatal strike, the outcome was already sealed; it merely granted him a brief moment to catch his breath.
Desperation overcame him. Black Wolf Fang frantically marshaled his energy to mend his body, but a wound as catastrophic as being split in two cannot be repaired with ease. Moreover, Kawagishi’s Scorching Feather attack carried an uncanny solar energy that not only inflicted excruciating pain but also significantly hampered Black Wolf Fang’s regenerative abilities. With one hand planted for support, Black Wolf Fang struggled, while his other hand fumbled to retrieve his sword in a vain attempt to buy time.
But Kawagishi had learned. He gave Black Wolf Fang no chance to recover. With one final, decisive swing, his white Scorching Feathers descended once more—this time aimed squarely at Black Wolf Fang’s neck. Overwhelmed and unable to defend, Black Wolf Fang’s sword never rose; the brilliant white feathers cleaved his neck cleanly.
In that moment, Black Wolf Fang’s body stilled completely, his strength entirely spent. His form began to dissolve into billowing black and red ash, rising slowly as if consumed by an unseen flame.
“Is this what death feels like?” he murmured.
“Why… why am I dying? I wasn’t beheaded by a Nichirin Blade, nor was I exposed to sunlight—what sorcery is this?”
“This newborn demon’s Scorching Feather carries the same killing power as a Nichirin Blade…”
“But why do I not feel agony? Instead, I feel a warmth—as though I were basking in sunlight, as I did when I was human…”
“Could it be that sunlight is truly so warm? I have long forgotten the comfort of its glow… No wonder that master was so obsessed with it.”
“I remember now—why I never wanted to leave this town…”
“Forgive me, Nanako—I never managed to wait for you…”
In Kawagishi’s astonished gaze, Black Wolf Fang was transforming into swirling black-red ash. Kawagishi couldn’t comprehend what was unfolding.
“What is happening?” he wondered aloud.
“My Blood Demon Art… do these brilliant white wings really have the power to slay demons?”
“Magnificent! I always thought that only sunlight could kill demons, but now that I, a demon, fear sunlight, it becomes most inconvenient. At last, I feel a newfound confidence in defeating demons.”
Unbeknownst to Kawagishi, an intense, instinctual urge began to pulse from behind his brilliant white wings—a sensation akin to an overwhelming hunger. Allowing his will to guide him, Kawagishi felt the urge intensify. In an instant, a strong suction emanated from his Scorching Feather wings. The black-red ash that had once been Black Wolf Fang was drawn back, like swallows returning to their nest, completely absorbed into Kawagishi’s wings.
Kawagishi was dumbfounded.
“Ugh, don’t just swallow everything!” he muttered.
“After all, this is a demon—what if ingesting it causes unforeseen consequences?”
Just then, his brilliant white wings flared with radiant light, and a torrent of sorrowful, poignant memories flooded Kawagishi’s mind…
