Shirou Emiya — Doesn't Want to Work Overtime!

Ever since merging Breathing Techniques with his Magic Circuits, Shirou discovered he no longer had to consciously activate his circuits every time he used magecraft.

When performing Breathing Techniques, his Magic Circuits activated automatically, and conversely, they closed on their own when he ceased breathing exercises.

It felt as though Breathing Techniques had installed a convenient switch in his Magic Circuits; he simply needed to flip it lightly to use magecraft effortlessly.

So, why hadn't he used [Reinforcement] during his earlier fight against the Hand Demon?

On the one hand, after mastering Breathing Techniques, Shirou had mostly relied on them to fight demons. They proved highly effective, causing him to momentarily forget that he could use [Reinforcement] to enhance his Nichirin Blade.

On the other hand, the author had temporarily forgotten Shirou possessed [Reinforcement] during that previous scene. But since that chapter had already been published, let's just stick to Shirou's own forgetfulness as an explanation.

As the Hand Demon toyed maliciously with the red-haired boy, savoring the cruel pleasure of revenge, Shirou quietly projected two serrated Nichirin Blades.

[Projection] first, he thought, always a good habit to build.

So whenever Shirou encountered someone with impressive abilities, he made a habit of projecting their weapons to learn their techniques.

As for why he hadn't done it en masse at Fujikasane Mountain's entrance—projecting every candidate's blade—he simply didn't have enough magical energy. If his reserves had allowed it, Shirou definitely would have projected each blade. Besides, integrating new Breathing Techniques into his own style required careful practice and time.

That was why Shirou had chosen Wind Breathing earlier against the Hand Demon's neck. Wind Breathing was the form he was most proficient in, having developed his Sword Breathing based heavily on it—not implying any hierarchical relationship.

Meanwhile, Flame Breathing was still relatively new to him. He'd only briefly adapted its forms into his style.

If I can't cut through directly, maybe I can saw it off.

Looking at the Hand Demon's rock-solid neck, Shirou recalled Inosuke's jagged Nichirin swords. If swung fast enough, surely they could sever even something this tough.

"Of Urokodaki's disciples, two left the deepest impressions," the Hand Demon jeered, its voice filled with cruel amusement. "The strongest one had unusual peach-colored hair and scars near his mouth. The other was a tiny girl in a flower-patterned kimono—small, weak, but quite agile."

As it spoke, the demon laughed menacingly, savoring its memories.

Even without knowing the red-haired boy, Shirou could piece together exactly what had happened just from the demon's taunting words.

"Your fox masks were your doom! Urokodaki carved them himself—he called them protective charms. But because of those masks, every one of them ended up devoured by me! They're all in my belly—killed by Urokodaki himself!"

"Shut your mouth!"

Just as the red-haired boy's breathing faltered, anger threatening to consume him entirely, an even more furious voice erupted from behind the Hand Demon.

"I don't know exactly what kind of person Urokodaki-san is, but he's definitely not someone trash like you can insult! Scum like you belong in hell!"

"Oh? You want to join the fun? But what can you possibly do without a Nichirin Blade? Today I'm in a generous mood—I might even spare your life. Perhaps you'll become a Demon Slayer someday? Hahahaha!"

Without bothering to turn around, the Hand Demon roared mockingly.

Without a Nichirin Blade, Shirou would merely become the demon's fifty-first victim.

"[Beast Breathing, Sixth Fang: Palisade Bite]!"

Immediately, Shirou twisted sharply, launching himself sideways like a missile, shooting straight toward the demon's neck with a piercing whistle.

What—!?

The Hand Demon had no idea Shirou had two new swords in hand.

In an instant, both sides of the demon's neck were shredded deeply.

Countless hands surged like serpents from its grotesque body, desperately trying to overwhelm Shirou, who continued wildly swinging his twin serrated blades.

"[Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance]!"

The red-haired boy didn't hesitate either. Filled with rage, he refused to miss this chance to finish off the monster.

His body moved swiftly, fluid as rushing water, creating afterimages as he darted around Shirou, severing every arm encroaching on him.

Splurt—!

In mere moments, all arms surrounding Shirou fell lifelessly to the ground.

Now the Hand Demon had no capacity left to attack the fox-masked youth.

"Damn it! Damn it all!"

The demon could sense its neck was only seconds away from being completely severed.

"I can lose arms anywhere else—but not here!"

Bang—!

Suddenly, an arm shot upward from beneath Shirou, slamming into his abdomen and hurling him backward. Shirou was thrown through the air, leaving his twin serrated Nichirin blades barely embedded—mere inches from fully decapitating the demon.

"I refuse to die here!"

"Sorry, but that's not up to you."

The Hand Demon's pupils constricted sharply.

"[Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash]."

A serene blue arc gently passed through the demon's nearly severed neck.

The Hand Demon's head, barely attached, fell away cleanly with minimal effort.

"Are you alright!?"

Seeing the demon's head finally drop, the red-haired boy immediately rushed toward the collapsed Shirou.

"Cough! Cough!"

Shirou spat out a mouthful of blood, then stood up with the boy's assistance.

After a few controlled breaths, Shirou quickly regained his composure. Given his physical conditioning, this kind of blow wasn't severe, merely painful—far less troubling than his earlier numbness.

"Thanks. I'm Emiya Shirou."

Shirou thanked the boy who had helped him stand.

Without the youth's timely intervention earlier, Shirou knew he'd likely have been caught midair and torn apart. He'd been far too reckless—attacking without thinking through his vulnerability when airborne.

He made a silent vow never to repeat that mistake again.

"My name is Kamado Tanjirou."

Seeing Shirou already recovering, Tanjirou didn't insist on supporting him further. He understood that those who practiced Breathing Techniques had stronger bodies than ordinary people; even such a heavy blow wouldn't significantly harm them.

If I'd been hit like that, Tanjirou thought, I probably wouldn't have been hurt at all.