Sanemi strode along his usual patrol route, every sense sharpened, his eyes cutting through the shadows of the forest. His ears twitched at the faintest sound, his head turning left and right with the patience of a predator hunting prey.

Then—rustling. Leaves and branches shivered though the night was windless. His hand slid instinctively to his sword’s hilt, his brow tightening into a scowl.

“Come out, brats,” he muttered, lips curling into a grin.

The forest answered. Figures spilled from the underbrush—demons, grinning hungrily, eyes gleaming with malice. In an instant, they lunged. Sanemi’s blade flashed free, arcs of steel slicing clean through the night. He carved through the first attackers with ruthless precision. Blood sprayed, claws clashed, snarls filled the air.

But amidst the frenzy, he didn’t see the shadow slipping behind him. A demon closed in, claws raised high. Too late—its strike tore across Sanemi’s back before he could react.