Takeo kept his eyes fixed on the boy who radiated danger—someone who looked to be about the same age as him.
Beside him, Iori was carefree as ever, admiring the blooming wisteria flowers as if they were out for a stroll, not preparing for the Final Selection. Her entire demeanor was relaxed, showing none of the pressure or nerves usually associated with a life-or-death examination.
But maybe that was fair.
After all, the demons on Mount Fujikasane were all supposed to be ordinary ones—those without access to Blood Demon Arts.
Compared to the demon they had faced before, those here were practically cannon fodder for people like Takeo and Iori, who had already fought against far more dangerous threats.
Iori had a high chance of passing the exam. In fact, if she couldn't pass, then it was likely no one else here would either—except maybe Takeo himself, and that ominous boy standing apart from the crowd.
If the Final Selection was really that difficult, then the Demon Slayer Corps wouldn't be able to recruit new swordsmen so regularly, nor would they suffer so many casualties among their ranks.
In short, Takeo could at least understand why Iori was being so nonchalant...
"These wisteria flowers are so pretty, even though it's not their blooming season."
...Okay, maybe too nonchalant.
"Waaah, those two kids over there are so cute! Huh? Are they twins?"
...That does make sense…
"But one has black hair and the other has white... Hmm, how come?"
"—Enough already."
Finally unable to endure Iori's endless chatter, Takeo lowered his voice and snapped, "Can't you be quiet for once? Didn't you notice everyone else is silently waiting for the selection to begin?"
"Okay, okay, I'll be quiet… Geez, no need to be so mean about it."
Startled by Takeo's sudden change in mood, Iori shrank back slightly. At the same time, the black-haired boy—the one Takeo had been quietly observing—glanced over at him.
But it was only a brief glance. Just as quickly, he turned away and resumed his dazed, absentminded posture.
Amid the low hum of tension and Iori's playful whispering, the two children standing at the entrance to Mount Fujikasane finally spoke.
They wore matching kimonos, the same color as the surrounding wisteria blossoms, with matching purple eyes. Their outfits were almost identical—except for their hair: one had snow-white hair, and the other jet-black.
The girl with white hair wore a wisteria-shaped hair ornament on the right side of her head.
The black-haired girl had the same ornament, but it was pinned to the left.
Like mirror images of each other, the two girls stood at the entrance of the mountain, side by side, with polite smiles. At first glance, they looked less like people and more like beautifully crafted dolls.
Their voices were nearly identical—soft, serene, and eerily in sync as they spoke in unison:
"Thank you all for attending the Final Selection of the Demon Slayer Corps tonight."
The blended harmony of their voices seemed to come from a single person, drawing the attention of everyone present without fail.
After that, the girl with white hair continued:
"This mountain holds demons that were captured alive by Demon Slayer swordsmen."
Then came the girl with black hair: "But there's no need to worry about them escaping. From the base to the midpoint of Mount Fujikasane, wisteria flowers grow in abundance—flowers which demons hate."
"However, beyond this point, there will no longer be any wisteria. The demons roam freely beyond."
"Once you enter, all you need to do is survive for seven days. If you do, you will officially pass the Final Selection and become a member of the Demon Slayer Corps."
The two girls continued to alternate as they explained the rules of the Final Selection to the gathered swordsmen.
Although most of those present already knew the criteria and conditions to pass, the twin girls still went over everything carefully to ensure even those who might've joined late or were self-taught wouldn't be left in the dark.
Once they had finished, the twin girls bowed in perfect unison and said:
"Then, we wish you all the best of luck."
With that, they stepped to either side, opening the path that led deeper into Mount Fujikasane.
What followed was a short preparation period for the candidates.
It wouldn't last long—anyone who didn't enter the mountain within the allotted time would be immediately disqualified.
Takeo stood silently among the group, eyes scanning the other examinees.
Some of them were already stepping through the path without hesitation. Others remained frozen in place, trembling visibly, indecision and fear etched onto their faces.
Those ones… wouldn't make it.
If just standing outside the mountain filled them with dread, then the trial inside—facing actual demons—was surely beyond them.
They would be better off walking away now.
Takeo couldn't help but wonder how some of these people had even passed their training to reach this point. Were their cultivators really that irresponsible? Just by looking, it was obvious that many of them weren't qualified.
As that rather impolite thought crossed his mind, the ever-perceptive Iori beside him seemed to guess what he was thinking and offered an explanation:
"Not every Demon Slayer is trained by a cultivator."
"What do you mean?" Takeo asked.
"Being trained by a cultivator is the standard path, yeah—but there are some who found out about demons on their own and stumbled their way into the Demon Slayer Corps."
Iori kept her voice low as she continued, "That's why those twins explained the rules so thoroughly just now. It's for people like them. And honestly, a lot of them probably haven't even seen a demon before."
Most people joined the Demon Slayer Corps because their loved ones had been slaughtered by demons—fueled by grief, hatred, and vengeance, they sought out cultivators and dedicated themselves to slaying demons.
But there were others who joined for very different reasons.
Some wanted to prove themselves. Some were simply curious. Others… maybe were just hoping to find a romantic partner.
These self-taught strays rarely received any proper training. After learning about the Corps, they would just show up for the Final Selection on their own.
"That's why," Iori added, "those kinds of people are usually the first to die."
Even so, the Demon Slayer Corps did at least provide the most basic warnings—explaining a demon's weakness, or advising them to go back and find a proper cultivator first.
Some listened, left, and returned after real training.
But the stubborn ones… well, there was nothing to be done.
The Corps would never turn away someone determined to slay demons.
"I see..." Takeo muttered, taking it all in.
His gaze drifted back to that long-haired boy who looked almost like a girl. He wondered—what had brought him here?
As Takeo watched, the boy silently stepped into the path leading deeper into Mount Fujikasane.
Without hesitation, Takeo followed, gripping his Nichirin sword tightly as he passed beyond the safety of the wisteria barrier.
Only once he was within the danger zone did he glance at Iori walking beside him and say, "Let's split up here."
"Eh?! We're separating?! I thought we were going to team up—"
"You and I won't have trouble passing the Final Selection. There's no need to team up," Takeo said flatly. Then he added, with a look of disdain, "Besides... I don't want to travel with an idiot."
"Hah? Hah!? You called me an idiot again?! You little brat!! Just what part of me is stupid?!" Iori exploded, flailing her arms in indignation.
Takeo ignored her completely. After dropping that line, he leapt up into the trees and vanished from sight.
"Hey!! Damn you, Takeo!! At least explain what you mean! Where exactly am I stupid?! HEY!! Ugh!!"
Unfortunately for her, she had no hope of catching up.
She was far weaker than Takeo—and so she soon lost sight of him entirely, left standing alone in the forest.
The Final Selection had officially begun.
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o(*￣▽￣*)ブRead 12 Advance chaps—P@treon: HornyFBI