Two of them?!
You have got to be kidding.
Marcus Lee's expression shifted slightly, but he did not turn and run.
He knew better than anyone that there was no chance, not even the slightest, of escaping from two demons at the same time.
At that moment, his resentment toward the original owner of this body deepened.
Without mastering a Breathing Technique, how did you dare come to the Final Selection?
A so-called Breathing Technique, at its core, is nothing more than using a specific breathing rhythm to forcibly increase oxygen intake, stimulate blood circulation, and dramatically enhance physical performance.
Deliberately controlling breathing rate, rhythm, and depth.
Is this similar to some breathing methods from my previous life?
Marcus's mind began to race.
If he wanted to survive, he had to grasp a Breathing Technique.
Fragments of memories surfaced from videos he had once seen in his former world.
Certain schools of karate, for example, used a form of dantian breathing centered on abdominal breathing, inhaling through the nose and exhaling through the mouth.
Inhalation was silent, not shallow chest breathing, but drawn deep into the lower abdomen. During exhalation, the entire body's muscles tightened forcefully, accompanied by sound, achieving a brief surge in core stability and explosive power.
Many traditional martial arts videos also emphasized synchronizing breath with movement, with the idea that every strike must be paired with an exhale.
Even some breathing patterns in yoga seemed vaguely similar.
Scattered memories flooded his mind, and for a moment, Marcus felt as if he had grasped something.
Of course, that feeling was an illusion.
In the previous two battles, he had fought with everything he had, but he had never deliberately controlled his breathing.
Recalling the original body's training with Breathing Techniques, he began adjusting his breath rhythmically.
It all happened in an instant.
He was not confident in his own strength, and realistically speaking, in his current condition, facing two demons at once meant his odds were abysmal.
Just then, a demon with jet-black long hair leapt out of the forest, clearly intending to strike first.
"At least give me a leg! Don't think about taking everything!"
Right behind it came a short-haired demon, roaring with resentment and anger.
"Not a chance! He's mine!"
The long-haired demon's body was extremely gaunt, yet its arms were unnaturally long, and its legs far stronger than expected. With a light spring, it could leap four or five meters into the air.
Its speed was clearly much faster than the other one.
Fast, yes. But with these eyes, it's still within what I can see.
Life-and-death combat sharpened a person rapidly.
Marcus grew far calmer than before. Though he retreated again and again, there was no trace of panic.
Still, the demon's elongated arms caught him off guard. With a reach far beyond that of a normal human, combined with thin, sharp claws, Marcus hastily raised his Nichirin Blade, barely blocking the strike with the solid body of the sword.
His boots carved a long trail in the dirt. The breathing rhythm he had forced himself to maintain was broken, turning ragged and rapid.
"You're much stronger than those humans," the long-haired demon sneered. "I bet your flesh tastes even better."
Drool dripped from its mouth as it stared at him greedily.
Me?
It thinks I'm strong?
The thought felt absurd.
The demons trapped on Mount Fujikasane were like frogs at the bottom of a well, blind to how vast the world truly was.
Fast, but its strength is about the same as an adult man's. I can block it.
Marcus judged silently, glancing past the demon. The other one had been pushed farther away. That meant, for now, he only needed to focus on the one in front of him.
Adjusting his stance, he gripped the sword hilt tightly with both hands and murmured inwardly.
Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash.
His tensed muscles exploded with force, and a smooth, flowing slash followed naturally.
But reality was not a novel.
Perhaps because he did not shout the name of the technique aloud, the first form of Water Breathing did not truly manifest.
Then again, how could it be that easy?
Thinking a technique's name and suddenly executing it flawlessly was wishful thinking, something that only happened in dreams.
What came out was nothing more than a normal sword swing. The long-haired demon instinctively raised its arm to block.
The strike lacked enough power and speed. The demon's arm was not severed, only its skin cut open.
And what good was that?
Superficial wounds meant nothing to a demon.
Failing the strike, Marcus immediately widened the distance, feeling no particular disappointment.
When the short-haired demon closed in, sweat trickled down his forehead. He was breathing lightly, but his focus sharpened instead of wavering.
"Maybe I really am a bit stronger than ordinary swordsmen," Marcus said softly, looking at the two demons.
"If you want to kill me, one of you is probably going to die."
"So which will it be?"
"You, or you?"
Marcus did not actually enjoy talking during a fight.
But what choice did he have?
He was outmatched.
Sometimes, words could serve as a weapon.
That brief exchange earlier had already proven his resolve. He was not the type to turn and flee at the sight of a demon.
Killing him would come at a price.
Even if they succeeded, the demon that landed the killing blow would suffer serious injuries from his final counterattack.
In that state, how would it compete with the other demon for his body?
Demons were not mindless creatures.
They understood exactly what Marcus was implying.
The long-haired demon hesitated, its gaze lingering on its injured arm.
"You go," it said to the other demon. "This human is yours."
"What?" the short-haired demon snapped. "Are you serious?"
It stared warily at Marcus's eyes, hesitation creeping in.
A demon's selfishness was laid bare in moments like this.
"So," Marcus continued calmly, "which one of you is going first?"
"Or maybe you could work together, if you truly trusted each other."
"But can you really trust one another completely?"
He slid his blade back into its sheath, lowering his center of gravity into a draw stance.
His tone sounded relaxed, but his body was anything but.
If a swordsman who had mastered Water Breathing happened to pass by right now, with these eyes, Marcus might gain something invaluable.
"The mountain wind is cold tonight," he said with a quiet sigh.
He took a step forward.
Both demons stepped back in unison.
A strange balance formed. One human, two demons, none daring to act rashly.
But such a stalemate could never last.
In less than three minutes, hunger crushed all restraint.
The long-haired demon lost patience and struck first.
Perhaps it was confident in its own strength.
Or perhaps it feared that if the standoff dragged on, other demons would be drawn over, leaving even less to claim.
And if that one appeared…
A faint trace of fear flickered in its blood-red eyes.