The razor-thin spider threads screamed toward her. At the last possible instant, Chika darted right—barely an inch ahead of death.
Is this…the Transparent World?
No. It wasn't. Her dodge hadn't come from calm omniscience, but from instinct—her preternatural senses flaring in warning just before danger struck.
That wasn't perception. It was reflex.
The Transparent World meant feeling the world with one's breath, seeing without eyes, hiding one's own presence until one's body and spirit vanished into stillness.
What she'd just done was the opposite: feel the threat and move.
She tried to silence that inner alarm she'd begun calling her Beast Instinct, to force her body into still stillness and draw out the latent power within.
But every attempt failed. Again and again, Rui's threads missed by hair-thin margins, and every miss stoked his fury.
"Why?! Why can't I hit you?! What are you, some kind of monkey?!" Rui snarled, yanking his crimson threads taut.
Inosuke, watching from the side, was stunned into silence. To him—raised among beasts—Chika's movement was eerily familiar.
That's it… he realized. She's moving like a wild animal.
He remembered the countless hunts in the mountains. Beasts might lack human reason, but their bodies surpassed all men. Their danger sense was sharper, faster—something primal. He had tried to ambush them, suppress his breathing, hide his sound… yet, every time, some creatures would flinch and leap away just before his strike connected.
That was the instinct he was seeing now.
Meanwhile, Chika frowned. Each failure to enter the Transparent World irritated her more. Yet with every failed attempt, she understood her "Beast Instinct" better.
One: it senses danger—like a spider's warning tremor.
Two: the body reacts instantly, moving to the safest line without thought.
Three: the instinct demands retaliation afterward—an urge to strike back.
"Tch." She clicked her tongue in frustration. Another strand came flying—this time, she didn't evade. She slashed.
The thread burst apart.
Chika opened her eyes sharply. "That's it! I'm done holding back!"
The aura around her shifted. Though she still wielded Water Breathing—a style known for grace and flow—her presence now radiated crushing power.
Her Beast Instinct refused suppression; the Transparent World demanded it. They were incompatible. To gain one, she'd have to abandon the other, but her body refused to let go.
So be it.
She gripped her blue Nichirin Blade tighter. A surge of water erupted, coalescing into a coiling dragon that spiraled around her form.
Rui, standing on his web of threads, suddenly felt sweat trickle down his temple.
The white threads at his fingertips turned crimson. The air filled with a hiss as the silk hardened—its sharpness multiplied.
Every tree around them bore deep, clean gouges from the slicing tension. If Rui wanted, a casual flick could have felled the forest.
"Blood Demon Art—Killing Web Cage!"
His hands blurred, weaving a deadly net. In an instant, scarlet threads encircled Chika from all sides, tightening like a living trap meant to mince her into ribbons.
But Chika was no stranger to such power. Though she didn't know Giyu Tomioka's self-created Eleventh Form, this level of technique wasn't beyond her reach.
Water exploded outward—fluid yet unyielding. The threads shredded into red mist.
"Impressive," she said softly. "As expected of a Lower Moon… you're on another level from the rest."
Her tone was calm, without mockery—but Rui's pride heard nothing but mockery.
"Don't you dare look down on me!"
"Blood Demon Art—Spinning Thread Wheel!"
Rui's blood-stained webs thickened, whirling into a vortex that screamed toward her.
Chika drew in a breath. The rhythm of Water Breathing filled her body. Forget the Transparent World, she thought. I'll finish this my own way.
Her blade glowed ocean-bright as she charged, fearless. The two forces collided in a storm of light and sound—so fierce that the ground trembled beneath them.
From afar, Inosuke could only gape, unable to describe what he was witnessing.
The clash shook the entire mountain. Even the other demons felt it—the pulse of power rippling through the webs.
"Who's fighting Rui?!"
"And who's my sister fighting?!"
Two opposite camps asked the same question in awe.
The demons trembled—none among them had ever seen Rui pressured like this.
Tanjiro, drenched in sweat, froze as realization hit him.
"If it's this intense… then the enemy must be one of the Twelve Kizuki!"
His chest tightened with worry. He had faced many demons—but none like them. And though he trusted his sister completely, that name—Twelve Kizuki—still chilled his blood.
"Zenitsu, we're going!" he shouted.
But before they could take a step, a thunderous impact shook the ground.
A massive demon landed before them, muscles rippling like corded steel.
Tanjiro's eyes narrowed.
Rui's "family" had come.
They would not allow anyone to interrupt their master's battle.
Not out of loyalty.
Out of fear.
Because if Rui grew displeased, he'd make them suffer—binding their limbs and leaving them to burn beneath the sun.