From Oyakata-sama's Kasugai Crow, Messenger, Taka learned one thing.
Among the Hashira-level swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps during the Sengoku period, a power known as the Marks had been passed down.
These marks, like the claws and fangs of demons, adhered ferociously to the surface of the human body, yet could greatly enhance a person's strength and reaction speed.
And during his battle with Akaza, similar patterns had appeared on Taka's face. This greatly concerned Oyakata-sama, who specially dispatched the Kasugai Crow to verify.
The inheritance of the Marks, after several near-annihilations of the Demon Slayer Corps and a lack of attention in the past, had become vague and unclear.
Only one phrase was remembered, passed down through generations: [If one awakens, then more swordsmen will, as if in resonance, successively awaken.]
Now, Taka had seen a similar account in the Flame Hashira's records.
'Marks.... So that feeling of burning all over back then was this thing...'
"So the demon king Muzan is truly this powerful. Even the swordsman of the original breathing could not...." Kyojuro stared blankly at the Flame Hashira's book before him, lost in thought. "....Sun Breathing. So that is the name of the original breathing...."
Taka looked at the somewhat distracted Kyojuro, his gaze hardening slightly.
He was about to say something when he heard Kyojuro laugh: "Haha! Wonderful! The origin of Flame Breathing… Sun Breathing! So strong!"
Kyojuro's gaze was blazing. He crossed his arms: "Hmm! Taka, I suddenly have an idea! If we gather the five main Breathing Styles together and seek their commonality, we might be able to deduce this powerful Sun Breathing!"
"Even if I can't learn it, someone will! That would make the Demon Slayer Corps even stronger!"
"If one person can't do it, then ten people, a hundred! As long as there are enough swordsmen who learn Sun Breathing, even the demon king can only flee in panic!"
Such a bright, frank idea dispelled the slight worry that had just arisen in Taka.
He looked towards the corner of the room. Behind that wall, someone was eavesdropping, their aura noticeably unsteady.
'See that? This is the gap between you and him.'
'Passive avoidance cannot change the fact that you are weak. Only by constantly moving forward.'
Taka withdrew his perception and focused back on the Flame Hashira's book: "Rengoku, what do you know about the burning blade?"
"The burning blade...." Kyojuro thought carefully, then shook his head. "But come to think of it, during the fight with the Upper Moon Kizuki, Taka, why was your blade so scorching? It even prevented the Kizuki's regeneration."
"I'm not sure. I think it might be related to the Marks." Taka pointed to the account of Yoriichi in the Flame Hashira's book.
"The Marks?"
Seeing Kyojuro's puzzled gaze, Taka combined his own experience with the Flame Hashira's book and recounted it to him...
The other side of time.
Three months ago, Tokyo, Hirota Residence.
Muzan, his face cold, withdrew his finger from Akaza's head. His mood was at an all-time low.
'No mistake...'
'That mark, that burning Crimson Blade....'
'Was that damn Tsugikuni Yoriichi reborn? Or had I missed some other inheritor of Sun Breathing?'
He thought of the boy wearing Yoriichi's earrings, and a wave of irritation washed over him.
"When it comes down to it, it's all because you useless good-for-nothings didn't kill Kamado Tanjiro earlier! That's what led to this unforeseen turn of events!" He roared, the glass shattering from the force of his voice.
Akaza said nothing, silently kneeling on the ground, awaiting Muzan's judgment.
Besides his fear and respect for Muzan, he also truly didn't feel like talking.
That slash from Taka had torn open his neck, and also torn open a corner of his memory.
'Koyuki... Hakuji...'
These two names clashed back and forth in his mind, churning him up inside, but he couldn't remember who they were.
He felt that Muzan had taken a part of his memories, but he didn't know how to ask, and was afraid that if he spoke, they would be erased again.
And he knew that Muzan, if he wished, could know the thoughts within the Kizuki's minds.
So he had to silently bury these two names deep in his heart, trying as much as possible not to think of them.
"Akaza."
Muzan's anger slowly subsided after he tore up a few books, and he resumed his gloomy tone: "I'm getting a bit tired of this hiding and skulking. At this rate, when will I ever find the Blue Spider Lily?"
He sat in a wide velvet armchair, crossing his hands as he looked down at Akaza:
"I'm going to conduct a hunt."
"A hunt?" Akaza didn't understand the implication, looking up at the cold smile on Muzan's lips.
"That's right. A hunt targeting the Demon Slayer Corps." His gaze fell on the characters [Upper] in Akaza's eyes and continued: "Denying it is meaningless. You were defeated by the Demon Slayer Corps. Their morale is at its peak right now."
"However, this is also an opportunity for us...."
"I plan to use the Demon Slayer Corps' complacency to release a few decoys, to attract their attention, preferably the Hashiras'."
"After all, having just defeated an Upper Moon Kizuki, they're sure to think the other Kizuki are nothing special, right? Heh...."
Muzan counted on his fingers, thinking it over, and settled on two names:
"Doma, Daki."
"I plan to leak information about them, let the Demon Slayer Corps investigate, then catch them all in one trap and kill any Hashira-level swordsmen who come to support! This shouldn't be difficult for them, as long as they avoid that swordsman with the Crimson Blade."
He stood up, pacing before Akaza: "If those two can take down enough Hashira on their respective fronts, the Ubuyashiki leader will surely panic. Then, through the traces of personnel movements, we can find their main base!"
His scarlet pupils flickered with anger. Gleaming white teeth emerged from a sneer: "At that time, I will lead all of you and directly attack the Demon Slayer Corps' lair!"
"What's one measly Marked swordsman? Could he kill us all? This time, we'll completely destroy the Demon Slayer Corps!"
Seeing Muzan's confidence, Akaza didn't know what expression to wear.
He just bowed his head and responded firmly, showing the same high fighting spirit.
Whether the Demon Slayer Corps would be destroyed, he wasn't entirely sure. But he certainly wanted to follow Muzan into their lair!
'That black-haired boy, this time I will definitely win!' He thought.
"Alright. You may withdraw for now, until orders are given."
Muzan waved his hand, signaling Akaza to leave. "Oh, and go search for information related to that black-haired swordsman.... He should be a user of Wind Breathing, right? Find the training ground for Wind Breathing."
He frowned impatiently: "A bunch of undying old fools, always hiding in remote mountains and forests, ruining my plans. Best to kill them all!"
Akaza accepted the order and withdrew. His figure quickly disappeared into the night wind, leaving only a large, shocking stain of dark red blood on the carpet.
After he left, Muzan sat alone in the empty, luxurious room. His pair of scarlet pupils remained fixed on the locked ebony cabinet.
"What exactly is this thing...."
Thinking it over, he still felt uneasy. He simply opened the cabinet again and started fiddling with the flask containing Akaza's flesh and other colored reagents.
Outside the window, the lights of Tokyo never went out all night. A scene of bustling prosperity.
But with this place as the origin point, the shadow of the demon king was spreading out.....
It stretched towards a distant mountain shrine, and also lunged towards the bustling lights of the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter.
The night was deep.