Chapter 3 — Slash
"Shut up! Keep your mouth shut and follow me!"
Zoro impatiently smacked Zenitsu on the head with his scabbard. Even through the thick layer of hair, a crisp thunk could be heard.
Zenitsu clutched his head, tears welling in his eyes as he trailed behind. Though he continued muttering things like "We're definitely going to die" and "Don't go that way," his body stayed honestly glued to Zoro's back. After all, for him right now, leaving this fierce, moss-headed swordsman meant facing the monsters in the darkness alone.
As the two ventured deeper in the direction Zoro had determined to be the "exit," the surroundings began to change noticeably. The once lush trees grew twisted and withered, their trunks turning a sickly dark brown, as though drained of life by some sinister force.
The fragrance of wisteria in the air had long since vanished, replaced by a nauseating stench of decay—the smell of old blood mixed with rotting flesh.
"Hey, blondie. You smell that?"
Zoro stopped walking, his nose twitching slightly. Though he no longer had his Observation Haki, the instincts of a top-tier hunter told him something big was waiting ahead.
"S-Smell what? The scent of death?! Is it my corpse rotting already?!"
Zenitsu's teeth chattered violently, producing a string of ka-ka-ka sounds. His sharp hearing had already picked up the heavy, chaotic heartbeat ahead—like muffled thunder—as well as the sound of something massive dragging across the ground.
"That sound… it's terrifying! It's a composite! So many voices all mixed together… Don't go, mister! Please!"
"Cut the crap. With that kind of commotion, it's obviously the 'boss' of this area. Once I kill it, the small fry will scatter on their own. Then the path'll open up."
A wild, arrogant grin spread across Zoro's face as his hand rested on the hilt of Sandai Kitetsu. For him, cutting someone—or something—was always simpler than solving puzzles or navigating a maze.
At that moment, in a clearing ahead, a massive shadow slowly emerged from the darkness of the forest.
It was a grotesque monster.
Its enormous body was like a small hill, wrapped tightly in countless thick arms, as though it were a grotesque sphere constructed entirely of human limbs.
Between those writhing arms, two bloodshot eyes glowed with malice, locking onto the uninvited intruders.
"Hee hee hee… two more cute little foxes? No… you're not wearing masks…"
The monster—the Hand Demon—spoke in a low, raspy voice. It extended a gigantic palm, and in the center of its hand was yet another eye, rolling about as it examined Zoro and Zenitsu.
"Since you're here… you're my food. What year of the Taisho era is it now?"
The Hand Demon suddenly asked a baffling question.
By now, Zenitsu was utterly terrified. His legs gave out and he collapsed onto the ground, pointing at the Hand Demon with a silent scream, his eyes nearly rolling back.
"Huh? How would I know something like that?"
Zoro replied indifferently. He had no concept of this world's calendar.
"Don't know…? Fine. No matter what year it is, if I'm still trapped in this cursed cage, then nothing has changed! Damn you, Urokodaki! Damn you, Demon Slayers! I'll devour every last one of you!!"
The Hand Demon's emotions spiraled wildly out of control. The countless arms covering its body flailed in madness, snapping nearby trees like matchsticks beneath its monstrous strength.
"Forty-seven years! I've been eating people here for forty-seven years! I've eaten fifty! You two will be the fifty-first and fifty-second!"
With a furious roar, the Hand Demon swung two enormous arms several meters long, smashing them down toward the pair with a howling rush of wind.
"Fifty? Quite the appetite."
Zoro's eyes sharpened, showing no intention of dodging.
"Having eaten so much, there must be quite a bit of 'fat' inside that belly of yours."
Clang—!!
A deafening clash of metal and steel rang out.
Zoro, holding only the Sandai Kitetsu in one hand, had firmly blocked the Hand Demon's strike—a blow strong enough to crush rock.
The enormous impact cracked the ground beneath Zoro's feet, sending dust swirling into the air, yet his stance remained unmoved, like an unshakable mountain.
"W-What?!"
The Hand Demon recoiled in shock. In its memory, the small kids who entered the final selection were all weaklings, relying on agility to dodge—it had never faced anyone daring enough to block its attack head-on, let alone an apparently untrained swordsman who didn't even seem to know breathing techniques.
"Hey, you've got too many hands; it's dizzying to look at. Let me 'trim' them for ya."
Zoro sneered, flexing his wrist with a sudden burst of strength.
"One-Sword Style: Hiryū Kaen!"
A powerful upward slash erupted, neatly cleaving the massive arm pressing against his blade in two. Purple-black blood sprayed like a torrential downpour.
"Pain! Pain! Since you want to die, I'll grant your wish!!"
The Hand Demon screamed, but more arms rapidly sprouted from its back, like a thousand-handed deity blocking the sky, then rained down toward Zoro like a deluge.
"Die! Die! Die!"
Facing this overwhelming onslaught, Zoro finally drew his other two swords, biting the hilt of Wado Ichimonji with his mouth, and assumed his classic Three-Sword Style stance.
"Zenitsu, if you don't want to die, stay out of the way."
He shouted, then became a green whirlwind, charging straight into the mass of flailing arms.
"Three-Sword Style: Bull Needle!"
In that instant, Zoro seemed to transform into a charging bull. Countless thrusts erupted in rapid succession. Every strike precisely pierced or severed an incoming arm.
The air was filled with the tearing of flesh. The defensive network the Hand Demon had once relied on now crumbled like thin paper before Zoro.
"What… what kind of swordsmanship is this?! No breathing techniques' fluctuations… yet this strength?! Is this really human?!"
Fear, long forgotten, surged in the Hand Demon's heart. It realized this swordsman was not only terrifyingly strong, but every slash avoided its rock-hard neck shell—or rather, wasn't avoiding, but seeking the optimal cutting point.
Meanwhile, Zenitsu crouched behind a distant rock, clutching his head, peeking through his fingers at the battle that resembled a godly and demonic dance. He was utterly stunned.
"S-So strong… That guy isn't just some ruthless man… he's a monster! A monster more monstrous than a demon!"
At the center of the battlefield, after severing several more arms, Zoro leapt high into the air.
"You're hiding your neck pretty deep, big guy."
Adjusting his posture midair, he positioned two swords on his back, with the blade in his mouth horizontally in front like a hunting tiger.
"But once I shave you bald, your neck will naturally be exposed."
"Don't underestimate me! Not even the masked kid fox back then could cut my neck! My neck is the hardest in the world!"
The Hand Demon roared hysterically, retracting all its arms in layers to protect its vital areas, attempting absolute defense against Zoro's strike.
A flash of red light crossed Zoro's eyes.
"Hardest, huh? Hmph… that's only because you've never seen a true 'Steel Blade.'"
"Three-Sword Style: Tiger Hunt!!"