The black color spreading across the Nichirin sword was well within both Tanjiro and Haganezuka's expectations.
Tanjiro quietly sheathed the sword and fastened it at his waist. After so long, he finally felt that familiar weight on both sides again—Asuramaru on one side, the newly forged Nichirin sword on the other.
It was strangely reassuring.
"Now that you have your sword, I'm leaving."
Haganezuka had no interest in staying any longer. Being able to observe Asuramaru up close had already been more than enough. His mind was no longer in the Butterfly Mansion, but back at his forge.
He wanted to forge again.
He wanted to hamr steel, refine ore, temper iron, and sohow—sohow—create a Nichirin sword that could stand beside Asuramaru.
No.
One that could surpass it.
"Mr. Haganezuka, please take care."
Tanjiro stood and walked him out of the side room. They crossed the corridor, passed through the Butterfly Mansion's courtyard, and headed all the way toward the entrance.
Only then did they part.
Watching Haganezuka's back as he left, Tanjiro raised his right hand and waved.
"See you next ti, Mr. Haganezuka!"
Haganezuka had not gone far before he suddenly stopped.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Even through the mask, Tanjiro could feel his murderous glare.
"You really want to see again?" Haganezuka snapped. "Don't forget what I said! If that Nichirin sword breaks again, I'll hack you to death myself!"
Tanjiro stiffened, then answered with all the sincerity in the world.
"I'll use it carefully!"
He did not dare promise that the sword would never break.
After all, he had no way of knowing what kind of enemies he would face in the future. The only thing he could promise was that he would treasure it as much as possible.
"You'd better!"
Haganezuka turned away with a huff, still grumbling as he left.
"Next ti, my knife goes straight to your neck!"
Tanjiro watched him go, his smile helpless but warm.
Before he could even relax, two figures suddenly rushed up behind him.
"Tanjirou!"
Zenitsu's voice cracked through the air first. He charged over with the desperation of a man fleeing execution.
Beside him, Inosuke ca barreling forward as well, boar head shaking with every step.
Tanjiro blinked. "Zenitsu? Inosuke? What's wrong?"
Zenitsu did not answer him.
Instead, he pointed behind himself and shouted like he had discovered a monster.
"Tanjirou is here!"
A mont later, Tanjiro understood who Zenitsu had been calling to.
A tall, muscular man stepped into view.
His long white hair was bound with a headband adorned in glittering gems. His build was powerful, his presence flamboyant, and the two enormous swords strapped across his back made him look even more imposing.
The Sound Hashira.
Tengen Uzui.
He looked down at the three boys with his chin slightly raised, his gaze landing especially on Tanjiro.
"Brats," Uzui declared, a grin tugging at his lips. "Get ready to train flamboyantly with ."
Before Tanjiro or Inosuke could respond, Zenitsu sprang forward in horror.
"Huh?! Aren't all of you here for Tanjirou? I don't want to fight you! If you have to take soone, take Inosuke! Don't include !"
He turned and ran.
Or at least, he tried to.
A large hand caught him by the collar and dragged him back like a captured chicken.
Uzui smirked.
"You're the brat who needs special care, right? Sanemi Shinazugawa specifically ntioned you."
Zenitsu's face lost all color.
"Special care? What kind of special care?! Why did he ntion ?! What did I do?!"
Inosuke stared at the captured Zenitsu, his rough voice coming from beneath the boar mask.
"This guy really is asking to get beaten."
Tanjiro opened his mouth, then closed it again.
For once, he truly did not know how to defend Zenitsu.
Before long, the three of them were brought to the sa plain as before.
The field was open and sparsely populated, with enough space for a Hashira to go wild without destroying anyone's ho. Grass stirred beneath the wind, and the morning light stretched across the ground in pale gold.
Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke stood together.
Across from them, Tengen Uzui rolled his shoulders and reached for the twin swords on his back.
"Get ready," he said with a dazzling grin. "I'm going to make you lose flamboyantly."
He drew his weapons.
The two massive Nichirin swords were connected by a chain, each one shaped like an oversized cleaver with an edge so sharp it seed to bite into the sunlight.
Without giving the three boys a chance to prepare, Uzui moved.
His body flickered forward.
Tanjiro's eyes widened.
"He's coming!"
The warning had barely left his mouth when Uzui was already in front of his first target.
Zenitsu.
Zenitsu looked up at the towering Sound Hashira before him, his face twisting into despair.
"Why is it again?!"
Bang!
A fist slamd into his abdon.
Zenitsu's body folded around the blow before he flew backward and crashed hard into the ground. His head lolled to one side, and he passed out instantly.
Uzui lowered his fist and turned toward Inosuke.
"Next. Ti for your flamboyant exit."
"Who's exiting?!" Inosuke roared, drawing his jagged twin swords. "You're the one who's going to exit!"
He charged headfirst.
One minute later, he was lying flat on the ground.
His limbs were spread out.
His boar mask stared blankly at the sky.
He had given up on thinking.
History, once again, had repeated itself with rciless precision.
Inside Asuramaru, Alex could not hold back.
"Tanjiro," he said dryly, "it's just you left again."
Tanjiro gave a strained smile.
"The opponent is a Hashira. It can't be helped."
What else could he say?
If he wanted to beco stronger, then this was the suffering he had to endure.
With that thought, Tanjiro drew his newly forged Nichirin sword.
Flas burst along the black blade.
Uzui's eyes lit up.
"So that's Sun Breathing? Those flas are pretty flamboyant!"
Tanjiro stepped forward.
The two clashed head-on.
tal rang across the plain. Uzui's twin swords moved with brutal rhythm, the chain between them flashing in arcs of silver as he attacked from impossible angles. Every motion carried force, speed, and a strange musical cadence, like a battlefield drumbeat only he could hear.
Tanjiro t him with fire and water.
His mastery of the two Breathing Styles had improved again. He no longer switched clumsily or hesitated between forms. Flas would surge along his sword one mont, only for flowing water to coil around his next strike. The transitions were still imperfect, but they were smoother now, more natural.
Hinokami Kagura.
Water Breathing.
Step.
Slash.
Turn.
Deflect.
The two styles gradually began to connect in his hands.
Uzui's grin grew sharper.
"That's it! Keep going! Don't make it dull, kid!"
Tanjiro gritted his teeth and pressed forward.
The spar continued until afternoon.
By the ti Uzui finally ended the session, the plain was scarred with footprints, gouges, and sword marks. Tanjiro's breathing was heavy, but his eyes remained bright.
Zenitsu and Inosuke, anwhile, looked as though their souls had temporarily left their bodies.
That night, inside the Butterfly Mansion—
The room was quiet.
Tanjiro had placed Asuramaru beside his bed before going to sleep. Nezuko's box rested nearby, and the soft breathing of the three boys filled the room.
Near dawn, Asuramaru sensed movent.
Two figures quietly sat up.
Zenitsu and Inosuke.
They moved with astonishing coordination, each careful not to make the floorboards creak. Zenitsu's face was pale with terror, while Inosuke's movents were stiff with stubborn pride, as if running away was sohow still a battle tactic.
They slid out of bed.
They opened the door.
They slipped outside.
Then they ran.
The sequence was smooth, practiced, and shaless.
Asuramaru did not mock them.
If he had been beaten by Hashira for three consecutive days, he might have run even faster.
When morning ca, Tanjiro opened his eyes and sat up.
The first thing he saw was the two empty beds beside him.
He blinked.
Then he looked around, startled.
"Asuramaru, did you see where Zenitsu and Inosuke went? Why are they gone so early?"
Asuramaru answered without hesitation.
"They ran away because they were afraid of getting beaten up with you."
Tanjiro froze for a mont.
Then, instead of getting upset, he let out a long sigh of relief.
"So that's what happened."
His expression softened.
"But maybe this is for the best. Sparring with a Hashira is still too early for them. It probably won't be very effective yet. For Zenitsu and Inosuke, continuing to train Total Concentration: Constant should be more suitable."
Inside the sword, Asuramaru gave a small reminder.
"You've mostly grasped the switching between your two Breathing Styles now. After today, prepare to leave headquarters and hunt demons."
Tanjiro nodded without hesitation.
"Then after this morning's training, I'll speak with Oyakata-sama."
Just as he finished speaking, the door was pushed open from outside.
A massive figure stepped into the room.
He was so tall that his presence seed to fill the doorway by itself. His hands were pressed together in prayer, prayer beads hanging between them. A scar stretched across his forehead, and tears flowed from his blind eyes.
The Stone Hashira.
Gyoi Hijima.
"Namu Amida Butsu."
His deep voice settled over the room like a tolling bell.
"I am the Stone Hashira, Gyoi Hijima. Young man, prepare to begin today's training. Show your determination and perseverance."
Tanjiro looked up at him.
His gaze landed on Gyoi's blind eyes.
A trace of concern appeared on his face.
"Mr. Hijima," Tanjiro asked softly, "being unable to see must be painful. Would you like to see the light again?"
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
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