Asuramaru's rebuke carried no rcy.
Inside the sword, he sounded genuinely annoyed, as though Tanjiro had personally insulted his dignity as a weapon.
Tanjiro, however, could hear the difference.
Asuramaru was scolding him, yes. But he was not truly angry.
So Tanjiro lowered his head a little and answered honestly, "Sorry. I'll be a bit tougher next ti."
For a mont, there was silence.
Inside the sword, Asuramaru lifted a hand to his forehead.
This boy…
What kind of answer was that?
It was so earnest that even snapping at him felt pointless.
After a short pause, Asuramaru let the matter go and asked in a more serious tone, "How are you adapting to Demon Power?"
"It's flowing very smoothly!"
That answer ca far too quickly.
Asuramaru paused.
Why does that sound strange?
After a brief mont of suspicion, he decided not to dwell on it. Tanjiro's mind was clean enough to make people feel guilty for doubting him.
"Then stop relying on abilities for now," Asuramaru said. "If you want to beco stronger, your foundation matters most. Breathing Style. Footwork. Swordsmanship. This is a rare chance to sharpen your Hinokami Kagura against a Hashira. Don't waste it."
Tanjiro's expression turned solemn.
"I understand."
He raised his head and looked toward Sanemi Shinazugawa, who still stood across from him with his Nichirin sword in hand.
The bleeding cuts on Sanemi's arm had not closed, but his stance remained steady. His killing intent had not faded either. If anything, the brief exchange had only made him more focused.
Tanjiro tightened his grip on Asuramaru.
"Mr. Sanemi," he said, his voice clear, "I won't use Asuramaru's special abilities anymore. Please help temper my swordsmanship."
Sanemi's brow twitched.
He had been thinking about how to close the distance and break through those bizarre techniques. He had not expected Tanjiro to take the initiative and discard that advantage.
The boy could have used Asuramaru's power to push him back.
He could have used this chance to vent his anger.
After all, Sanemi had threatened Nezuko, drawn blood in front of her, and treated Tanjiro with open hostility.
Yet here he was, looking straight at Sanemi with those painfully honest eyes, asking for instruction.
Not revenge.
Instruction.
Sanemi clicked his tongue and forced his expression into an even fiercer scowl.
"Since you asked for it, don't complain when I beat you half to death."
Tanjiro smiled.
"It would be my honor to receive your guidance."
Sanemi's grip tightened.
There it was.
That irritating warmth.
The sort of sincerity that made it difficult to hate him, no matter how much one wanted to.
"Tch."
Sanemi raised his blade.
"Then co."
Tanjiro wasted no more words.
He kicked off the ground and rushed forward, his checkered haori snapping behind him. His breathing deepened, grew heavier, and changed.
A scorching rhythm moved through his lungs.
Heat spilled from his mouth with every breath, thin tongues of fla flickering at the corners of his lips.
Sanemi's eyes narrowed.
"So this is Sun Breathing?"
Interest flashed across his face.
Then he stepped forward to et him.
"Wind Breathing—Second Form: Claws-Purifying Wind!"
His blade lashed out in rapid succession.
Four arcs of wind tore through the air like the claw marks of a wild beast, aid straight at Tanjiro's path.
Tanjiro did not slow down.
He stepped in, leapt, and brought Asuramaru down in a flaming arc.
"Hinokami Kagura: Dance Flash!"
Fire blood along the sword.
The slash descended like a streak of sunlight.
The four wind blades collided with it—and were swallowed by the flas.
More precisely, they struck the edge of Asuramaru and failed to break through.
Sanemi's eyes sharpened.
He was forced to take half a step back.
His feet crushed the earth beneath him. In the sa motion, he twisted his body and swept his blade upward with brutal force.
"Wind Breathing—Sixth Form: Black Wind Mountain Mist!"
A rotating hurricane surged from below, roaring upward.
Tanjiro's flaming slash crashed down at the sa ti.
The two techniques collided.
The gale seized Tanjiro's body and dragged him upward, scattering part of his force. His strike was weakened before it could fully land.
Even so, Sanemi felt a faint numbness travel through both hands.
This brat's strength…
It had grown far beyond what his build suggested.
Carried into the air by the wind, Tanjiro adjusted his posture. He held Asuramaru with both hands, flas still burning across the sword.
"Hinokami Kagura: Clear Blue Sky!"
His body twisted.
The sword traced a perfect circular arc, fire sweeping through the air in a bright, beautiful ring.
Below him, Sanemi had already anticipated the counterattack.
He stepped in at the exact mont Tanjiro descended.
"Wind Breathing—Eighth Form: Primary Gale Slash!"
Sanemi's blade moved in a storm of consecutive cuts.
The slashes whirled around Tanjiro like a violent cyclone, catching the edge of Clear Blue Sky and tearing through the gaps in his movent.
Several wounds opened across Tanjiro's body.
Blood splashed into the air.
Tanjiro landed heavily, his knees bending to absorb the impact.
The wounds were shallow. Before the blood could properly drip, the torn flesh had already begun to close under Asuramaru's healing power.
Sanemi landed as well.
His fierce eyes swept over Tanjiro's injuries. Only after confirming they had healed did sothing almost like relief pass through them.
Then his expression hardened again.
"Your sword techniques are too careless," he snapped. "You commit too hard and leave openings after every form."
Tanjiro accepted the criticism without hesitation.
"I'll be more careful next ti!"
That attitude made Sanemi even more irritated.
Not because it was bad.
Because it was good.
Too good.
The boy listened. He learned. He did not argue, did not sulk, did not make excuses.
Sanemi hated how easy it was to teach him.
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Activate your Demonization," he ordered. "Let feel how strong you are after transforming."
Tanjiro straightened.
"Understood."
In his heart, he called out again.
"I'm counting on you, Asuramaru."
Inside the sword, Asuramaru gave a faint, helpless smile.
This was probably the closest Tanjiro ever ca to being "tough."
"Then release your desire," he said. "Let him experience what Demonization really ans."
A massive surge of Demon Power poured out of the sword.
It flooded Tanjiro's body, slipping into his bones, muscles, blood, and lungs. His physical strength had already improved greatly, and because of that, his body endured the transformation far better than before.
Pale purple markings spread across the side of his face.
One of his eyes was stained with that sa eerie purple.
His presence changed.
The warmth remained, but beneath it was sothing sharper. Colder. Sothing that no longer felt entirely human.
Sanemi studied him from a short distance away.
"So that's Demonization."
His expression turned serious.
Years of surviving against demons had honed Sanemi's instincts to a razor edge. Right now, every instinct he had was telling him the sa thing.
Tanjiro was dangerous.
Not "promising."
Not "talented."
Dangerous.
Tanjiro raised Asuramaru with one hand.
"I'm coming. Please be careful."
Then he vanished forward.
Sanemi's pupils tightened.
Fast!
Tanjiro closed the gap in an instant, his blade wrapped in brilliant fla.
Sanemi barely had ti to raise his sword.
Steel t steel.
Flas exploded outward.
The force drove Sanemi's feet into the dirt, carving two deep lines across the plain.
He bared his teeth.
"Not bad!"
Tanjiro pressed forward, each slash heavier than the last. His speed had risen sharply after Demonization, but his technique did not dissolve into brute force. He still followed the rhythm of Hinokami Kagura, each movent linked to the next like steps in a sacred dance.
Sanemi answered with Wind Breathing.
Green gales tore across the field.
Flas and wind collided again and again, scattering sparks and shredded grass into the air.
Not far away, Inosuke had finally managed to push himself halfway up from the ground. He stared at the battle, his boar mask tilted toward the blazing clash.
"T-Tanjiro…" he muttered in his rough voice. "Has he already gotten that strong?"
Zenitsu, still sprawled nearby, twitched faintly.
Inosuke gripped the dirt beneath him.
"Does that an he's a Hashira now?"
The question received no answer.
Because on the plain ahead, the battle had already grown too fierce for idle words.
Sanemi's sword flashed like a storm with teeth. Every movent aid for a weakness. Every step forced Tanjiro to correct a flaw. He was not rely attacking—he was carving lessons into Tanjiro's body.
Tanjiro endured it.
He was struck, cut, forced back, then healed.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The more Sanemi pressured him, the sharper his Hinokami Kagura beca.
His breathing steadied.
His footwork grew cleaner.
His swings lost their hesitation.
Sanemi noticed it all.
A dangerous light appeared in his eyes.
This brat is improving during the fight.
The thought made his blood heat.
"Good," Sanemi growled. "Then take this!"
His blade rose.
Wind gathered.
Tanjiro felt the air change and imdiately drew in a deep breath.
Both of them understood.
The next strike would decide the exchange.
Tanjiro held Asuramaru with both hands and lifted the sword above his head. Fla surged along the edge, then expanded, coiling outward into the shape of a great burning dragon.
His aura climbed to its peak.
"Hinokami Kagura: Solar Halo Dragon Dance!"
Across from him, Sanemi kicked off the ground and leapt high into the air.
A green hurricane wrapped around his body, whipping his uniform and haori violently. He gripped his Nichirin sword with both hands, eyes fierce and unblinking.
"Wind Breathing—Ninth Form: Idaten Typhoon!"
In the next instant, Sanemi slashed out two massive blades of wind.
Tanjiro leapt after him, carrying the blazing dragon upward with his sword.
Fire and storm rushed toward each other beneath the fading evening sky.
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
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