That afternoon, the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters sprang into action.
The Kakushi, with astonishing efficiency, cleared out a huge open-air training ground in a deep mountain valley not far from the Ubuyashiki Estate. The venue was still being worked on.
Yamada stood on high ground at the training field, checking the terrain below.
Shinobu walked up, holding a training schedule that had just been drafted.
"The first phase is the basic endurance run led by Uzui-san. The second phase is Kanroji's hellish flexibility stretching. The third phase is Tokito's swing correction. The fourth phase is Iguro's obstacle avoidance. And the final part is the actual combat sparring between Shinazugawa and Himejima-san."
Shinobu finished reading the form and looked up at Yamada. "Then what are you responsible for?"
"Me?"
Yamada watched the Hashira gathering below, casually snapping off a tree branch and weighing it in his hand.
"I am responsible for giving them the final fatal blow when they think they are about to die."
He turned his head and looked at Shinobu, his eyes deep. "As for you, you don't need to participate in these boring physical special trainings. You only have one task now."
Yamada reached out and gently pinched her cheek. "Use the Yang Chakra sample I gave you, combined with your Wisteria Toxin, to develop a potent poison that can destroy Muzan's cell division ability. Leave the frontal assault to me, you are responsible for cutting off his retreat."
Shinobu was slightly stunned by his pinch, then her eyes became incomparably firm. "Leave it to me. This time, I will absolutely not give him another chance to escape."
The countdown to the decisive battle officially began at this moment.
—
Deep in the mountain canyons, the deafening roar of the waterfall drowned out the original tranquility of the forest.
It had been three full days since Kagaya was reborn and issued the order for everyone to assemble.
In these three days, this once secluded and dangerous canyon had been forcibly transformed by the Kakushi into a living hell that made one feel nauseous just looking at it.
"Run! You bunch of useless waste who haven't eaten a full meal! If you get caught by the rolling logs behind you, you'll end up with broken hands and feet!"
Tengen stood on a protruding rock, holding a thick bamboo stick in his hand, yelling at the ordinary members sprinting on the muddy mountain path below.
In the crowd below, Zenitsu rolled his eyes while letting out a shrill scream. "I'm going to die! I'm definitely going to be crushed into a meat patty! Why does the basic physical training in the first stage involve being chased by these spiked rolling logs?! Tengen, you perverted normie!"
Although he cursed louder than anyone else, the cadence of Zenitsu's footsteps was not slow at all. His foundation in Thunder Breathing gave him maxed-out talent in the skill of running for his life.
Tanjiro, carrying heavy rocks on his back, gritted his teeth and ran at the front of the group, every breath carrying a scorching current of air.
Inosuke was like a tireless beast, not forgetting to use his head to ram into tree trunks along the way as he ran, trying to vent his excess energy.
According to the assembly-line training plan formulated by Yamada, every swordsman participating in the intensive training had to first pass the physical exhaustion from Tengen, then go to Mitsuri to receive hellish flexibility stretching that tore and reorganized ligaments, and then go to Muichiro and Obanai to hone their blade precision and footwork.
Only those who survived these first four rounds of torture were qualified to enter the deepest part of the canyon to face the final live-combat assessment.
At this moment, on the flat rocky ground in the deepest part of the canyon.
The air was filled with the pungent smell of sweat and the fishy scent of mud.
Giyu, Sanemi, and Gyomei, were panting heavily, their black uniforms already soaked through with sweat and dust.
A dozen steps away opposite them.
Yamada sat cross-legged on a flat bluestone, supporting his chin with one hand.
Beside his feet lay a wooden sword that hadn't even had its scabbard removed, and the black high-collared uniform he wore didn't even have a single wrinkle.
"Too sluggish."
Yamada's cold voice rang out over the rocky ground, breaking the brief standoff.
"Do you know what your biggest problem is right now?"
Yamada lifted his eyelids and swept his gaze over the three who were waiting in battle formation.
"It's because you know very well in your hearts that I won't kill you. Even if you make a mistake or break a bone, I can heal you using Yang Release. Therefore, when you swing your blades, you lack a sense of desperation to survive after facing death."
Sanemi gritted his teeth, veins bulging on the back of his hand gripping the wooden sword.
He couldn't refute it. In these few days of sparring, no matter how seamlessly they coordinated, Yamada could always dismantle their attacks with the simplest taijutsu and predictions. Every time they were knocked down, Yamada would heal them with that magical green light, and then they would continue to take a beating.
This kind of sparring without a death threat could not force their body's potential to that limit.
"Without the fear of death, your heart rate will never cross the two-hundred mark, and your body temperature won't rise to thirty-nine degrees."
Yamada stood up and picked up the wooden sword at his feet.
"Since you can't force that state out yourselves, I'll help you."
The Chakra within Yamada changed its nature at this instant.
A cold energy permeated from his body.
The sky seemed to darken at this moment.
Opposite him, Sanemi, Giyu, and Gyomei all saw their pupils shrink to the size of needle tips.
In their perception, Yamada, who had been standing there, disappeared. Replacing him was a prehistoric beast that had crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. That tangible killing intent turned into invisible giant hands, tightly gripping their throats.
The air became viscous, and the oxygen in their lungs seemed to be instantly drained.
"Listen well."
Yamada carried the wooden sword and walked forward step by step, his leather boots making crisp creaking sounds on the gravel.
"For the next five minutes, I will hunt you as if you are real demons. Every strike will be fatal, and I will not hold back."
"If you can't block it, or if you haven't awakened the Demon Slayer Mark before I cut off your heads..."
Yamada's lips cracked into a chilling arc. "Then you will really die here. Yang Release cannot bring back the dead."
The moment his words fell—
Bang!