At that moment, it felt like everything was over.
The sound of his neck snapping echoed endlessly in Rowen's ears, like fate itself passing judgment without mercy.
A tidal wave of pain surged through his body, shredding his consciousness into ribbons.
The feeling of death soaked into his bones like ice water.
Time seemed to crawl.
Just before his mind slipped away, he saw it—Kie Kamado's face, twisted in terror.
The gleam of the kitchen knife slipping from Nezuko's tiny hands.
And the smirking green-haired Oni, who seemed to be laughing at their brief, mistaken hope.
(So this is how I die…?)
As his crushed windpipe stole the last of his breath, Rowen's vision blurred.
But in the haze between life and death, he saw it—what normal people couldn't: waves of negative emotion, thick and black, crashing toward him.
Kie and Nezuko's despair.
The children's fear.
The Oni's malice.
It all rushed in like a dark tide—and in that storm of agony, his fading consciousness was suddenly wrapped in a chilling, exhilarating mist.
The ringing in his ears faded, as though someone were slowly turning down the volume knob.
It felt so… peaceful.
Blissful.
Like being cradled by heaven itself… or drugged to the gills.
In the corner of his vision, his Demon Panel flickered. The Depravity Value he thought would take another week or two to build had quietly crossed the 500 threshold.
(Human despair… incredible.)
Drenched in this banquet of emotion, Rowen basked in it like a guest at a royal feast. And in that final flicker of instinct—
—he activated his talent.
A scorching, frenzied power exploded in his mind, flowing like magma through his body.
Every cell ignited, reshaping, rebirthing.
His crushed neck realigned, vertebrae knitting together in real time.
Muscle reconnected.
Bone reset.
Flesh sealed shut.
Kie and Nezuko could only watch in frozen horror as his mangled corpse regenerated before their eyes, their grief and hopelessness solidifying into stunned disbelief.
Meanwhile, the green-haired Oni, having effortlessly snapped the neck of his tasty little human, rose to his feet with a grunt, yanking the axe from his skull.
He turned back to the mother and daughter with a greedy grin.
"Tch—daring to hit me with an axe? Fine, then. I'll have a little appetizer before my feast. Women and kids always have the most tender meat…"
But just as he said that, he noticed they weren't even looking at him.
They were still staring—at Rowen's body.
He opened his mouth to shout, but then—
Crack… crack… The eerie sound of bones realigning snapped through the quiet air beside him.
He whipped his head around—
And saw the boy who should've been dead rising from the ground, floating just slightly, glowing veins pulsing under his skin like molten lava.
The air was thick with a blood-colored mist, swirling upward with an ominous black wind.
Wherever it passed, grass and flowers withered instantly.
When Rowen opened his eyes—they glowed a deep, unnatural red.
Horns curled from his forehead. Black wings unfurled from his back.
A demon had risen from the abyss.
"W-What the hell?! This freak?! You really are some kind of mutant?!" the green-haired Oni's eyes bulged. He dropped the axe and took a wild, clawed stance. "Trying to act cool in front of me?! Screw you! I'll send you straight to Hell this time!"
Before the last word left his mouth, he vanished—leaping faster than the eye could track.
His voice echoed cold and furious through the night as he flipped mid-air and raised his right leg high, using centrifugal force to crash down on Rowen's skull like a cannonball.
But Rowen merely tilted his head to the side.
The Oni's foot missed by inches and slammed into the earth.
Boom!! A deafening crash.
The ground quaked. A cloud of dust exploded outward, forcing Kie and Nezuko to shield their faces, instinctively stumbling back.
Rowen also stepped back, squinting through the haze as he calculated how to fight back.
"Hah!!"
The Oni's next attack came flying out of the smoke—a whip-like kick aimed straight at Rowen's chest.
BAM! Rowen, untrained and still unfamiliar with combat, raised his arms in a hasty block.
His forearms slammed against his chest as the impact sent him flying several meters back.
His spine cracked against a cedar tree with a loud snap.
"Urgh…!" Fire lanced through his arms and chest. The taste of blood filled his mouth. His mind went briefly blank from the shock.
The Oni howled with laughter. "Just as I thought—total amateur! Hahahaha!!"
He charged again, full of glee. As Rowen reeled, the demon twisted his body low and swung a massive right hook in a vicious arc.
"Shit…!" Rowen saw the move coming, but his battered body couldn't react fast enough.
Smack!
His block came too slow. The punch sent him stumbling sideways, his left arm going numb. His balance collapsed—he couldn't stop himself from falling.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to stay upright, drawing back his right fist in an attempt to counter.
But the Oni was already there.
Before Rowen could even move, the green-haired demon read him like a book, lips curling into a wicked grin.
He lunged again—his left leg sweeping out like a battle axe, slamming into Rowen's ribs.
CRACK—!
The sound of breaking bones echoed loud and clear in the still night.
Rowen was hurled sideways, crashing hard into the dirt, raising a cloud of dust.
"Stop fighting back and just let me eat you already!!" the Oni bellowed, stalking forward with bloodthirsty eyes. He was ready to end this.
But then—
Whoosh!!
A sudden gust of wind blasted the dust apart.
The newborn demon beat his wings.
Rowen shot skyward like a rocket, black wings carving through the night air, a miniature hurricane in his wake.
He had one plan—get airborne. The Oni couldn't fly. As long as he stayed in the sky, he could escape.
But—
"Trying to run? In your dreams!!"
The Oni wasn't fooled.
He snorted, then bent his knees and launched himself upward like a spring-loaded trap.
His claws stretched out, eyes locked on Rowen's wings.
(If I tear those wings off—you're mine.)
Just as his fingers were about to grasp their target—
Rowen looked down at the Oni leaping up at him like a starving beast.
The panic vanished from his face.
In its place—an oddly calm, chilling smile.