Shadow of the Moon: The Demon Slayer & the Priestess!

The forest was eerily quiet. The usual hum of insects and rustling leaves had vanished, leaving behind only the sound of Ryoshi's footsteps against the damp ground. He moved cautiously, his sword still gripped in his hand. Beside him, Siren walked silently, her silver eyes scanning their surroundings.

They were alone now. For the first time since they met, there was no battle, no enemies, only silence.

But that silence was dangerous.

Siren finally broke it. "They'll come after you now."

Ryoshi didn't flinch. He already knew. Hiro and the others wouldn't just let this go. They would report him to the Demon Slayer Corps. He was a traitor in their eyes now.

"I figured as much," he said, exhaling.

Siren tilted her head slightly, observing him. "You don't regret it?"

Ryoshi met her gaze. "Do you want me to?"

She chuckled softly, the sound light but carrying a certain sadness. "No. But I don't understand you, Ryoshi."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah… I don't really understand myself either."

For years, his purpose had been simple—kill demons, protect humans. That was all. But in one night, that certainty had shattered. Now, the lines between right and wrong, friend and enemy, were blurring.

Siren turned her attention forward again, her expression unreadable. "We should keep moving. They'll send hunters after us soon."

Ryoshi frowned. "Hunters?"

"The elite of the Demon Slayer Corps," Siren explained. "They track, they kill. And they don't ask questions."

Ryoshi's grip on his sword tightened. He knew of them. They were different from normal slayers. Ruthless, silent, efficient. If they were coming…

He glanced at Siren. "You've been hunted before, haven't you?"

She gave a bitter smile. "Countless times."

Ryoshi didn't ask for details. He could guess what her life had been like—always running, always hiding, always treated as a monster.

But she wasn't a monster.

Not to him.

Suddenly, Siren stopped. Ryoshi barely had time to react before she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the shadows of a thick oak tree.

A second later, a presence passed overhead.

Ryoshi held his breath as a figure in a dark cloak leapt between the trees, moving too fast for a normal human. No sound, no wasted movement.

"The hunters are here," Siren whispered.

Ryoshi's pulse quickened. They weren't even given a chance to escape.

Then, the hunter stopped on a branch just ahead of them.

The moonlight illuminated his mask—a featureless black design with a single red slash across the right eye. A mark of the top-ranked hunters.

Ryoshi knew that mask.

His stomach twisted.

"…That's my master."

Siren turned to look at him, surprised. "Your master?"

Ryoshi clenched his jaw. The person standing before them was the one who had trained him to kill. The one who had forged him into a warrior.

And now, he was here to execute him.

The hunter finally spoke, his voice low and emotionless. "Ryoshi Saito."

Ryoshi swallowed hard. He could feel the weight of his master's presence, pressing down on him like an invisible force.

"You have turned your blade against the Corps."

His master raised his sword, the edge gleaming under the moonlight.

"For that, you will die."