So fast!
Seeing Takeo's figure appear right in front of her in an instant, Iori couldn't help but widen her eyes.
She had already known that Takeo was strong and fast, but only now did she realize—she had still underestimated him.
That speed just now…even her strict cultivator grandpa probably couldn't match it.
But… the demon wasn't dead yet.
Her limbs had been severed, the cloth created by her Blood Demon Art shredded—but the demon herself was still very much alive.
Takeo's strike had deliberately avoided the demon's neck. Because hanging on her neck, the infant was clinging to her like it had been embedded into her flesh. He couldn't risk hitting it.
So instead, Takeo had chosen to disable her.
Now, he was trying to tear the baby away from the demon's body.
"Tch— Let… go… already—!!"
Standing before the demon, Takeo gritted his teeth as he gripped the infant, trying to pry it from her chest.
But that action only enraged the demon.
No—rather than anger, it was more like panic. The demon's face held less rage than sheer terror at the thought of her child being taken.
"No… don't…!"
In that moment of panic, the demon unleashed her full potential.
Her limbless body writhed across the floor, and from the severed stumps, limbs began to regenerate rapidly. Her arms and legs were already starting to take shape.
Her regeneration is so fast!
They couldn't let her recover fully!
Noticing this, Iori instinctively tightened her grip on her Nichirin sword, ready to leap forward and support.
Her body was injured, yes—but she could still unleash one more strike of Flowing Dance. With that attack, she could sever the limbs that were just beginning to regenerate—buying that red-haired brat the time to snatch the infant away!
That was what she intended—but she was too slow.
"Don't take my child away!!!!!!"
Thuk thuk thuk thuk!
A shrill shriek tore from the demon's throat, and in the next instant, countless cloth strips burst forth from her body like a cascading waterfall, twisting through the air—wrapping around both her and Takeo in an entangling cocoon.
The cloth wrapped tightly around Takeo's arms, waist, and thighs, pulling at his body with force—trying to tear him away from the demon.
Outside, Iori was blocked by the tangle of cloth. She had to stop in her tracks, staring anxiously at the cocoon-like sphere formed by the fabric.
"Hey!! Red-haired brat, are you okay in there?!"
"Let—GO—of me!!"
The pain wracking his body didn't faze Takeo. Iori's worried shout from outside was ignored. What fueled Takeo's fury…was the sound of that crying infant—still sobbing uncontrollably, its tiny body grotesquely fused with the demon's throat.
Takeo's rage boiled over.
"Ahhh!"
With a flick of his fingers, bone spikes extended from his knuckles.He reversed his grip on the blade, driving the bone spike deep into the demon's neck.
Then—activating his Breathing Technique, he strengthened his arm and violently thrust upward.
"I said——Enough already!!"
The words were practically spat out in a furious growl as Takeo's forceful motion launched the demon's entire head skyward.
Her severed head—now separated from the baby—soared into the air.
And in that precise moment, Takeo seized his chance.
The wind unleashed by his blade spiraled upward in a violent gust. Countless blades of wind formed a rising tornado, shredding the flying head along with the remaining vertebrae still attached.
In the blink of an eye, the demon's head was torn apart mid-air.
Its shattered remnants scattered, and one of her now-disembodied eyes landed on the floor with a wet slap.
Wind Breathing, Fourth Form – Rising Dust Storm!
Having slain the demon, Takeo finally stood up, holding the infant whose body was still partially fused with demonic flesh. The fabric that had wrapped around him and the demon dissipated into dust along with her decapitated head.
"Did… did it work?!"
Outside, Iori caught sight of Takeo's figure and instinctively called out.
Takeo glanced at her but said nothing.
"Why… why did you take my child… I only… wanted to find… my child…"
The demon hadn't completely vanished yet. What little remained of her managed to emit a voice through unknown means. A lone eye, the last remnant of her body, fixated on the infant in Takeo's arms—and on Takeo himself. A clear liquid dripped down its surface.
I just…
wanted to find my child…
That was what she thought.
When she was still human, she had a home.
A miserable home—but a complete one nonetheless.
She had a husband who did nothing but drink and beat her… And she had several young children, all born from her own body.
Although life had always been hard, and being beaten hurt a lot, every time she looked at her children, the woman felt that all the suffering was worth it.
Yes, the days were difficult. Her husband was not someone she could truly entrust her life to—But at the very least, she had a family.
When had that family fallen apart?
It seemed to start when that man began gambling. It worsened when his beatings and verbal abuse became more frequent.
Still, the woman could endure it all. She had endured so much already.
But then came that day—That day when he laid his hands on her child.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
The man was again having a rough intercourse with her; she didn't like it, but what could she do? Her husband had gotten in a fight while drinking somewhere and had come home angry that day.
"Haa.. haa.. why are you acting like a dead fish!" Slap!
Her husband slaped her, "Moan you bitch!"
"Waaah.. waaaah~"
The shout startled her baby, and he started crying.... and then.. her husband's anger had erupted like never before.
"You ungrateful fucker! So you are going to stop me from fucking my wife?"
"Waaah.. waaaah.."
"I said shut up!"
Ah… her poor baby.
His forehead had been struck and was bleeding heavily. At the sight of it, something surged up from deep within her.
"Stay away from my child!!"
She lost control.
When she regained her senses, the man was already lying in a pool of blood.
His body was covered in stab wounds. Aside from convulsing occasionally, he no longer moved.
And the object that had stabbed him… was still in her hand.It was the kitchen knife from their home.
She had killed him.
And immediately afterward, the authorities arrested her.
Because she had killed her husband, the woman was sentenced to death.
It wasn't fair. He was the one who had always been violent. He was the one who hurt her child. She had only fought back…Why should she be the one to pay with her life?
But no one cared. No one saw the years of abuse. No one cared about her child's injuries.
All they saw was a woman who had killed her husband.
She was angry—furious. But even more than that, she was afraid. Afraid for her children.
"You see.. this world has its rules, a man goes out to work and a woman makes the home. A wife killing her own husband? It would give a bad idea to the people living in our estate, right?"
"But.."
"Guards! Lock her up!"
She begged. Begged the guards, begged the magistrate. Begged anyone who would listen.
Please, spare my life. My children were still waiting for her at home. They couldn't live without their mother.
But no one listened.
She was thrown into a cold prison cell to await her execution.
Until… she met him.
"Oh? Tsk tsk~ You're being executed tomorrow? How tragic. Tell me—do you want to live?"
That man… she didn't know him. Only that he wore Western clothes, and his long, seaweed-like hair fell loosely around his shoulders.
But that didn't matter. She had reached for him like a drowning woman grasping at a lifeline.
She begged him to save her.
Then, the woman remembered nothing.
It was as if her memories had been cut away.
She only knew…
She had killed many people.
She had searched for her children.
But never found them.
Children… my children…
My poor little ones… who lost their mother…
Where were they?
She wandered endlessly.
She searched countless towns, countless homes.
She found many children.
But none of them were hers.
"This one's not it. He cries too much…"
"Not this one either. He won't eat properly…"
"This one… maybe… this one…"
She searched and wandered.
From place to place, from child to child.
But no matter how many she found—none were the ones she remembered.
Why? Why can't I find them?
Where are my children?
…
"My… child…"
The red-haired boy—the one holding the baby—appeared in her fading vision.
Her clouded eyes locked onto the baby in his arms.
And in that moment, something stirred in the depths of her fading soul—
A memory.
Something she had forgotten.
Something… she couldn't afford to forget.
She had been holding something.
Something broken…
lifeless… half-devoured.
"…Ah… I remember now."
Tears flowed more freely from the woman's eyes.
In her pupils—endless regret.
It was her.
She was the one.
She had killed her own child.
Her children, in a twisted sense… had always been with her.
Always—
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… Yūta, Aji, Ayu… I'm sorry… I truly… I'm truly sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Clutching that boundless regret, the last remnants of the demon woman turned to blood-colored ash—and vanished.
At the moment she muttered her apology, Takeo looked toward her, and for the briefest instant, saw the sorrow and guilt in her eyes.
Something within his heart stirred.
And in that moment, Takeo found himself thinking of a single sentence—
"Demons… were once human, too."
_________
o(*^＠^*)oRead 12 chaps ahead—P@treon/HornyFBI