"There's no need for that," said Tengen. "If Shinobu trusts you, then that's enough for ."
Tengen eyed Ryuji with curiosity, sensing a dangerous aura radiating from his body. And considering that he could walk openly in the daylight with soone like Mai—a kunoichi no less—it was clear he'd broken free from any constraints of the ninja villages.
People like that… were never weak.
More importantly, Tengen knew Shinobu wasn't soone prone to exaggeration. If she vouched for him, he believed her.
"Ryuji-sama is incredibly strong," Shinobu chid in, almost defensively.
She had seen Ryuji's power firsthand, and if anything worried her, it wasn't his combat ability—it was his lack of knowledge about the Taishō era's customs.
But that wasn't surprising, considering Ryuji wasn't from this world.
"Well then, we'll be off," Tengen said, casting a look at both Mai and Shinobu—his expression unreadable.
Ryuji gave a casual wave. "Mind if I get a few extra weapons? Nothing fancy, just a few katana will do."
"Oh? So special fighting style?" Tengen asked, intrigued.
"Sothing like that," Ryuji replied bluntly. "It's part of a ranged technique I use."
Tengen just shrugged. "Sure. Let's go."
Ryuji led the way through the gate, with Tengen falling in step beside him. But as they reached the stables, Tengen suddenly rembered sothing important.
"…Wait. Can you even ride a horse?"
That did give Ryuji pause. He wasn't especially skilled at horseback riding—he'd only practiced a few tis in the world of Food Wars, and even then, not seriously.
But for him, that wasn't a problem.
"A little. Worst case, I'll just run there."
"…You're sothing else," Tengen muttered.
Thankfully, the horses here were well-trained, and Ryuji managed without much trouble. They arrived shortly afterward at the local blacksmith's forge.
Outside, it was packed. People crowded around, desperate to buy weapons. Ryuji scanned the stalls and saw a heap of low-quality swords dumped out in the open without sha.
It was clear that the current tis had everyone on edge—no one had the luxury of being noble anymore. After all, the demons really were eating people.
"Normally, a katana would be way cheaper than this," Tengen grumbled. "Prices are nearly ten tis what they used to be."
Ryuji was just about to ask for iron ingots instead when Tengen chuckled.
"But we, in the Demon Slayer Corps, get to buy at cost price. How many do you need?"
"At least these guys know who's protecting them," Ryuji said with a smirk. "Ten swords should do."
He could tell at a glance that none of these weapons would be suitable for forging a greatsword—Japan in this era simply didn't have a demand for such heavy weaponry. He'd need to have one custom-made.
Before long, a few Demon Slayer mbers returned with the blades. Ryuji reached for his wallet, but they waved him off.
"You're going out to support us, so we'll cover it. Besides, you'll be joining the Corps officially soon anyway."
Though Ryuji wasn't yet a full mber of the Demon Slayer Corps, he was close enough.
"Thanks."
He strapped all ten swords across his back and followed Tengen deeper into the wild.
What followed was mostly uneventful: forest trails, mountain passes, narrow paths—hardly worth recounting. The team moved efficiently, speaking only when necessary, like true shinobi.
By the second night, they were close to their destination, well ahead of schedule.
But as they passed through a narrow valley just shy of the camp, Ryuji suddenly froze. His eyes widened.
He had kept his Observation Haki active the whole ti—and now, sothing felt wrong.
A deadly danger lay ahead.
Without hesitation, he drew one of the cheap katanas. Dragon fire surged over the blade, which imdiately cracked from the intensity.
Without a second thought, he hurled it.
The flaming blade streaked through the air, slicing clean through several tree trunks. Thick branches crashed down—and invisible threads lit up in flas, revealing their presence.
But it was too late for one unlucky Demon Slayer. His horse exploded into bloody chunks, and a near-invisible thread slashed off one of his arms.
Ryuji leapt from his saddle, midair, scattering dragonfire in a wide arc to shield the team.
He landed next to the injured soldier and grabbed the severed arm. Red flas surged from Ryuji's hands, sealing the bleeding stump and reconnecting tissue in an instant.
Even as he healed, his heightened senses scanned the area.
And that's when he saw them—things the naked eye couldn't.
Spider silk.
Countless strands of spider silk.
"…Looks like we've walked straight into a trap."
~~~~~~~~~~
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