Spring blossoms had long fallen. Summer's cicadas faded into silence. Autumn leaves drifted across the mountain paths.
Time slipped by quietly, buried beneath the harsh training of Mount Sagiri.
Nine months of relentless discipline had reshaped Ryo Anzai into someone new.
He now stood taller, muscles sharpened by survival rather than comfort. The frailty that once defined him had burned away under sweat and sunlight. He still looked lean, but no longer like a sickly boy who could break from a single breeze. His skin held a warm bronze glow, a badge earned from grueling effort.
"Ha! Ryo, you are not beating me today!"
Shota Kiriya shot forward like lightning, sprinting toward the finish line.
"Huff... cocky brat, what are you even proud of..."
Ryo chased after him, only a few steps behind.
Rika followed a little farther back, her cheeks flushed red, yet she never once faltered. Her small frame carried more determination than most grown men.
Training ended with heavy breaths. Ryo wiped his forehead, but his gaze drifted to the shimmering system panel visible only to him.
Remaining Lifespan: 83 days.
Even with all the strength he had built, his cruelest curse still tightened around his throat. Less than three months remained before his death.
Near the dojo, two beautifully sewn uniforms waited neatly folded.
Shota picked up his deep brown haori, grinning with boyish pride.
Ryo reached for his own: an ink-black coat, the hems woven with golden lightning patterns that shimmered subtly under light.
Jigoro Kuwajima presented two newly forged Nichirin blades.
Rika was still too young, her strength not yet enough. She would stay one more year before taking her own test.
"The time has come. Survive on Fujikasane Mountain."
Jigoro spoke quietly, yet his eyes lingered on Ryo.
According to the training schedule, someone with Shota's natural talent should have needed at least a year and a half before reaching this level.
But Ryo never cared for limits.
While others slept, he trained.
While others rested, he trained.
When others trained, he trained even harder.
This Final Selection would be dangerous, but at least Shota would be there. They could watch each other's backs.
Ryo didn't respond with words. He simply tightened his grip on his sword, bowed deeply, and strode into his future.
He would live.
Every breath he took during the past year was for this moment.
"Shota! Ryo! Come back safe!"
Rika's voice trembled behind them, fading as distance swallowed her small figure.
Fujikasane Mountain was eternally shrouded beneath cascading wisteria.
The blossoms hung like violet waterfalls, forming a sacred barrier that trapped every demon forced into this land.
Beyond the flowers lay darkness.
A stench of blood weighed thick in the air. Screams echoed deep in the forest.
Every step rested on ground drenched with the despair of those who failed before.
Ryo separated from Shota shortly after entering.
He remembered what this event was supposed to be like.
Aside from the Hand Demon, most demons here were minor ones who had consumed only a few humans.
Weak enemies.
Perfect for harvesting lifespan.
And he refused to let Shota steal his kills.
A shrill screech cut through silence.
From a grassy mound, a lizard-like demon burst toward him with its long, jagged teeth bared.
Ryo lowered his stance. Thunder stirred around him as he inhaled.
"Thunder Breathing, First Form, Thunderclap and Flash."
A flash tore through darkness.
A roar of thunder split the air.
The demon's head toppled to the ground before it understood it was dead.
Lifespan +10 days. Remaining: 92 days.
For the first time in a year, the system awakened.
Ryo's heart surged with excitement. The move hardly drained him.
Thunder Breathing was difficult to master, but its results were undeniable.
Powerful. Swift.
And unbelievably cool.
He launched himself toward another scream deeper in the woods.
These weaklings were easy prey.
Meanwhile, a young swordsman wearing a fox mask wandered nervously between trees.
Akira Moriyama had been here for six days.
Six days.
Not a single demon. Not even a stray hair.
Was the Final Selection actually a prank?
Had his master lied to scare him?
A shadow crashed down from above, snarling with hunger.
The demon knocked him flat, his sword skidding meters away.
His heart pounded in terror.
The monster opened its jaw, ready to bite his head clean off.
A thunderclap thundered across the night.
Ryo appeared, black haori fluttering like a shadowed phantom.
One clean slash.
Ash scattered into the wind.
Lifespan +10 days. Remaining: 156 days.
Akira scrambled to his feet.
"Th-thank you. I am Akira Moriyama."
Ryo slid his blade into the sheath. His gaze flicked toward the fox mask and his expression tightened.
"Your master. Is he... by any chance Jigoro Kuwajima?"
Akira nodded innocently.
Ryo sighed inwardly.
That confirmed it.
This boy was part of the generation right before Sabito and Giyu.
No wonder the notorious monster was drawn here.
Ryo patted Akira's shoulder and turned away.
"Be careful."
He had taken only two steps when a suffocating aura crushed the world around them.
A roar tore the night apart.
The ground shuddered.
A colossal demon emerged from the shadows, its huge frame writhing with dozens of grotesque arms.
The Hand Demon.
Its bulging eyes locked fiercely onto Akira's fox mask, hatred boiling like poison.
"Another fox brat raised by that cursed Kuwajima. I will tear you apart! I will return all my suffering a hundredfold!"
Akira stumbled backward, gripping his sword, trembling violently.
"How... how is a demon like you here?"
The Hand Demon smashed the ground, sending cracked earth flying.
"He imprisoned me here for thirty-nine years! I will never forgive him!"
The pressure alone made breathing a battle.
Ryo pushed his thumb against his sword's guard, steadying his breath.
"If you don't want to die, fight."
He shot forward, lightning sparking beneath his feet.
His blade severed countless arms as he aimed straight for the monster's throat.
Akira followed instinctively, water flowing around his blade.
"Water Breathing, Third Form, Flowing Dance!"
Thunder and water crashed together.
But the Hand Demon regenerated instantly. A massive arm whipped through the air, sending both boys flying.
Ryo slammed into the dirt, coughing blood.
Akira didn't even have time to scream before he blacked out.
"Seriously? You passed out already? This is a promotion match, not a nap time!"
The Hand Demon roared triumphantly and sent more arms rushing toward the fallen boys.
Just then, thunder boomed once more.
Shota Kiriya leapt in front of them, blade blazing with electricity.
"Thunder Breathing, Second Form, Rice Spirit!"
Five slashing arcs cut through the incoming arms. Sparks lit the darkness.
Shota glanced back.
"You alive?"
"Barely."
Ryo forced himself up, eyes burning with determination.
Together they charged again.
Lightning split the air.
Dismembered arms scattered like fallen leaves.
But every second drained them further.
The Hand Demon wasn't slowing.
"We cannot win like this. His neck must be severed."
Shota gritted his teeth, blocking another blow.
Ryo already knew.
A demon who had devoured thirty people had regeneration far beyond normal.
If the neck remained protected, nothing changed.
Shota failed to dodge the next massive strike.
The impact hurled him into a boulder, blood splattering across his torn haori. His sword clattered out of reach.
The monster chuckled, towering over the unconscious Akira and the injured Shota.
Dozens of arms writhed, reaching to crush them both.
Ryo felt his fury ignite.
"If I do not kill you... none of us leave this mountain alive."
Blood dripped from his lips.
His grip tightened until his knuckles turned white.
His voice echoed within his soul.
"System. Give me more power."