The courtyard at the back of Mount Momoyama was brightly lit.
Steam billowed up from the hot pot, blurring the old man and the girl from each other's sight, while only the chopsticks moved swiftly through the broth. Rengoku Shinjuro had been shocked by how pitifully small Sui's appetite was, but she had walked all day without eating anything that could be called a proper meal. Then, on top of that, she had decapitated a demon at night and been dragged by Jigoro through several kilometers of mountain climbing.
At a time like this, even the daintiest girl ought to turn into a glutton.
Jigoro had not been exaggerating. His cooking really was better than the innkeeper's, though that was easy enough for Sui to believe even without ever getting to taste that bowl of noodle soup.
The old man sat cross-legged to one side, leaning on his cane.
He quietly examined the long sword Sui had been carrying earlier, which he had borrowed while she ate. The moment it touched his hand, he could feel the weight of it—it was noticeably heavier than an ordinary blade. The scabbard was made of fine redwood, reinforced and ornamented with brass. A red cord was wound around the mouth of the scabbard, and from the pommel hung a string of red prayer beads.
The way the original bright crimson of the sheath had faded to the dull dark red now in the old man's hands, along with the faint scratches across its surface, all marked it unmistakably as an ancient blade.
He gently drew the sword. The clear, waterlike hamon rippled into view, accompanied by a soft hum. Very clearly, the old man saw a line of archaic engraving near the tsuba along the back of the blade.
Yasokotsu Shimo Yomigaeri.
Karmic stain.
The old man frowned. The instant he drew the sword and saw its inscription, it felt as though boundless killing intent spilled from it. That murderous aura was not directed specifically at humans or demons—it was aimed at all living things that could be cut down. This was no fine antique blade.
It was a bloodthirsty cursed sword.
The old man could not help glancing up at the girl. Her beauty was uncanny, yes, but her bearing was gentle. She was not someone with a bloodthirsty nature.
Where had she gotten a demon blade like this?
"Does this sword have a name?" the old man asked, hoping to glean something from it.
"I don't know." Sui shook her head. Her family had worshipped the sword for generations, but all they knew was the inscription. Even the stories about it had only ever come from the woman who had raised her.
"This is a cursed blade. It has killed countless people," the old man said bluntly.
"I know."
"You know?"
"Yes. I know it's ominous. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been hung up on an altar and worshipped."
The girl seemed utterly unconcerned, and that left Jigoro unsure how to proceed.
"When it comes to dealing with man-eating demons, using an even more vicious blade sounds perfectly reasonable to me."
"If you use those eyes of yours, then this sword..." The old man trailed off. He was no longer certain whether this blade could truly slay demons.
"In the future, use a Nichirin Blade whenever possible. I'll hold onto this one for now. At the same time, that will lower the risk of those eyes of yours being exposed in front of the Twelve Kizuki."
He did not hand the sword back to Sui. He was worried that the killing aura clinging to the cursed blade might affect the girl's state of mind.
Sui did not object. It was what she had been thinking too. No matter where one was or when it was, one needed to know how to hide one's true edge. If she had known Breathing Techniques or swordsmanship, she would never have needed to open those eyes just to kill demons that were not especially strong.
"How much do you know about the Demon Slayer Corps?" Seeing how calm and composed Sui remained, the old man's estimation of her rose again.
"It's an organization made up of swordsmen who kill demons?" Sui replied. "Lord Shinjuro told me that the highest-ranking swordsmen in the Corps are called Hashira. Beneath them, the ranks are Kinoe, Kinoto, Hinoe, Hinoto, Tsuchinoe, Tsuchinoto, Kanoe, Kanoto, Mizunoe, and Mizunoto. There is also the Ubuyashiki family, which serves as the Corps' central pillar."
"And Breathing Techniques?" the old man asked.
"I know absolutely nothing about them." Sui shook her head.
"Mm." The old man stood, his expression grave and solemn. "Then tell me this—how much stronger do you think the demons you have faced are than ordinary people with no martial training at all?"
The girl thought for a moment. A demon's physical abilities far surpassed those of ordinary humans. Against a demon hunting them, normal people had almost no room to resist.
"They can't fight back at all. It's a one-sided slaughter."
"Exactly. The human body is far weaker than a demon's. With human flesh alone, we cannot contend with demons, let alone kill them. That is why Breathing Techniques and Nichirin Blades came into being. These are arts passed down since the ancient Warring States era. Through Breathing Techniques, humans can attain powerful, fearsome physiques capable of defeating demons. Through Nichirin Blades, demons can be killed completely once their heads are severed."
"You are an exception," the old man added. "But I will not teach you as an exception. I will teach you as an ordinary swordsman candidate. If you rely on nothing but your eyes and have no proper foundation, then when you face something on the level of the Twelve Kizuki, you will be powerless to resist—just like any normal person who knows nothing at all."
When he saw that the girl was still thinking silently, the old man assumed she was dissatisfied with the direction his teaching would take.
"What is it?"
Sui frowned. "What exactly are the Twelve Kizuki? Could you explain in detail?"
She still remembered the sight of cutting down that woman with her blade. It had been the first time that person had seemed so fragile before her. She had collapsed into Sui's arms and whispered a single sentence in her ear. Along with thanks, she had spoken one other thing:
a name.
"The Twelve Kizuki are the twelve direct subordinates of Muzan Kibutsuji, the progenitor of all demons—the twelve strongest demons among all those Muzan has created..."
The old man abruptly stopped.
An overwhelming aura of death had descended around him.
As a former Hashira, he was already intimately familiar with the scent of death, yet before those icy blue Mystic Eyes of the girl, his own experience seemed trivial.
Under that gaze, the old man had the horrifying thought—for the first time in his life—that perhaps this was what the end of all living things truly looked like.
"Muzan Kibutsuji..." he heard the girl murmur.
In the letter from the current Flame Hashira, Rengoku Shinjuro, it had been explained that on the day of the girl's birthday, her family had turned into demons and even tried to eat her.
Had she seen Muzan?
Jigoro's heart shook.
Then he brought his cane down on top of Sui's head.
"Eh?"
The icy blue light in her eyes vanished instantly, and Sui clutched her head. To be fair, the old man's strikes really did hurt.
"I think I understand enough now. Judging by your reaction, the demon who killed your family truly was most likely the legendary progenitor of demons, Muzan Kibutsuji, who has not shown himself in a thousand years. This is the Demon Slayer Corps. There is not a single person here who does not want to cut off Muzan's head with their own hands. You need to stay calm."
Sui nodded, looking perfectly obedient.
Quite sensible, the old man thought with a private smile. He had been worried the girl might decide on the spot to go off and try to kill Muzan herself.
The Demon Slayer Corps had existed for a thousand years. In that time, there had been no shortage of gifted people and extraordinary figures. One generation of powerful Hashira had followed another. Yet all they had ever managed was to replace the Lower Ranks among the Twelve Kizuki. The Upper Ranks had never changed.
Could this girl reach Muzan?
The old man did not know. All of them held such hopes, but in the end, they all knew it was no more than a beautiful wish.
"Go get some rest. Your room is the first one in the courtyard. It's already been prepared."
"Tomorrow, I'll begin teaching you Breathing Techniques properly."
The old man waved a hand.
Sui gave a small bow and closed the room's door behind her.
At present, the Demon Slayer Corps could fairly be said to be suffering from a break in succession. After Jigoro retired, not a single swordsman using Thunder Breathing had arisen to succeed him as the Thunder Hashira.
Meanwhile, his old friend Sakonji Urokodaki had also retired to become a cultivator, yet not long ago a new Hashira who used Water Breathing had appeared within the Corps. Jigoro could not help feeling a little envious.
Wind, Flame, Water, Stone, and Thunder—these five were the original great Breathing Styles, and the lineage of their Hashira had almost never been broken.
And yet now, Thunder Breathing had no successor.
Jigoro had been nursing a sense of foreboding over it.
But when he recalled what it had felt like to be stared at by those icy blue Mystic Eyes, that foreboding faded away.
No Hashira using Thunder Breathing?
Hadn't one just arrived at his doorstep?
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 135)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 110)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter67)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter85)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 60
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 65
From Junkman to Wasteland 50
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 35
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 40
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 37
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 27
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 26
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 26
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