[Kakunodate, Demon Slayer Outpost, Year 1839, January]
The silence that followed Janshin's decapitation was profound. Not even the sound of her body hitting the ground registered. It was severed by a roar of pure, unadulterated rage.
"JANSHIN!"
Gekido's scream of desperation shook the very leaves on the wisteria hedge. The playful arrogance vanished, replaced by a bottomless, howling fury. His muscles bulged, veins pulsing. His pale skin seemed to redden slightly. The demonic aura around him thickened, becoming a palpable pressure.
"Hot-headed", Hitoku analysed coldly.
Hayate and Sasuke stumbled back, their blades wavering. The casual execution of a demon that had felt immensely powerful to them was a shock that bypassed their training. Hayate was more experienced, but his limbs trembled.
Not because of Gekido's appearance, or because of his aura. But because of Hitoku's display of the Crow Breathing Style.
A single word of advice from Sozen had been turned into reality. This was frightening. A growth rate that was almost admirable.
Hitoku flicked the blood from his white nichirin blade, his central eye fixed on Gekido.
The insight from Sozen echoed in his mind. Singular focus. Every movement for one purpose.
He hadn't just used two forms; he had used the Fleet-Step for the Draw, making the Draw itself faster, sharper, more unseen. The principle was integrating.
"So this is the intent of an expert-level demon slayer", Hitoku muttered
"You… you insect!", Gekido spat, his voice guttural, "You think a trick like that matters? I will peel those bandages off and feast on your eye!"
He charged. No finesse, no technique. Just raw, earth-shattering power. His fist came down like a pile driver, aiming to obliterate Hitoku where he stood.
"Fourth Form: Omen's Illusive Guard"
But it wasn't the static defense Genji had used. As Sozen watched, his old eyes sharp, Hitoku's interpretation unfolded.
He didn't just parry.
He deflected the blow with a minimal, darting motion of his blade, but the moment contact was made, he moved, using the redirected force to spin to Gekido's flank.
His counter-thrust, sharp and fast targeted Gekido's neck. The demon twisted at the last second, taking a deep gash across his shoulder instead.
Gekido roared again, backhanding wildly, but retreated two steps, hoping that the respite would give him enough time to regenerate the wound.
"Second Form: Murder's Fleet-Step"
But Hitoku flowed around his retreat, his Fleet-Step now a constant, rustling accompaniment to his movements, never just for repositioning, but to constantly realign for the next strike. He was a crow harrying a bear, but every peck was aimed with lethal precision.
"He's… he's using Grandfather's words", Hayate whispered, horrified.
"He's learning in real-time", Sozen murmured, a complex mix of dread and something akin to professional admiration in his voice, "He is deconstructing the crow breathing style and rebuilding it with a demon's physique and that… eye of his"
Gekido was strong. Every glancing blow that landed shook Hitoku to his core, rattling his bones. His regeneration was taxed, healing bruises and shallow cuts instantly.
But he was also predictable. Rage had simplified him. To Hitoku's Perceiving Eye, he was a storm of power. A generator of vectors that were powerful and fast, but straightforward and easy-to-see-through.
"Your form is sloppy", Hitoku taunted, "All that strength, wasted on wild swings. You feed to grow bulk, not skill. A lower moon? You'd be a snack for the real ones"
"SHUT UP!" Gekido unleashed a flurry of blows, a chaotic barrage meant to overwhelm.
"Third Form: Shifting Flock Barrage"
Hitoku didn't retreat. He stepped into it. His own blade became a whirlwind, fighting power with power. He, too, was a demon. And though his strength was slightly lower than the muscular brute in front of him, his speed and technique was better. His blade weaved through the gaps in Gekido's assault.
Dozens of shallow cuts appeared on the larger demon's arms and chest.
*SWING*
*SPLASH*
His wrist broke on contact with Gekido's fist, but regenerated in a split second. Similarly, the cuts on his body, numerous, started to heal immediately.
Demons were tough to kill. They needed to be killed entirely.
Hitoku did not stop. The wounds accumulated on his body.
[HP: 680/830]
[HP: 530/730]
...
[HP: 420/730]
Gekido, bleeding from a hundred stinging cuts, his vision filled with the after-images of pale blades, overcommitted. A massive, crushing grab for Hitoku's torso.
"Use it now! The Black Wing Omen! He is open and weakened!", Sozen shouted, almost acknowledging a master and disciple relationship born out of blasphemy.
Hitoku saw it. The path was clear. The perfect, unseen peck.
"Fifth Form: Black Wing Omen"
He didn't need to study Gekido's pattern. He had already mapped it. In that split second, he inhaled, his Perceiving Eye compressing the future into a single, inevitable line. He exhaled, and his body moved with the predictive certainty of the technique.
A single, profound slash. Not showy, not broad. A straight, piercing thrust that seemed to pass through Gekido's grasping arms, aimed dead at his neck.
After all, to kill a demon, you needed to cut its neck, or wait for the sun to kill it.
It trailed the smoky darkness of the Omen, which coiled around Gekido's head.
CLANG.
The sound was solid, as if meeting steel.
Hitoku's white blade cut through Gekido's arms, but his neck was reinforced. His muscles had stopped the blade.
Hitoku frowned.
'This much vitality still?', he whistled inwardly, 'This is surprising'
Gekido stared down, disbelief overriding rage, but that rage was powering his willpower: "Im… possible… My family… my blood art… I can…"
He grinned suddenly, a bloody, ghastly thing: "You think… you killed me?"
Hitoku's eye widened. The predictive tracers in his vision flickered wildly. Something was wrong. The "kill" signal wasn't solidifying.
Gekido's body began to shimmer, to distort.
"Blood Demon Art: Kin-Knot Shift!"
In a nauseating warp of space, Gekido's form seemed to blur. The sensation was like a rug being pulled from reality itself. One moment, Hitoku was skewering the massive demon. The next, the body before him was smaller, thinner, wearing tattered civilian clothes.
It was one of Gekido's underlings, the level 16 demon who had been feeding elsewhere.
The demon's eyes were wide with terror and confusion, a nichirin blade already buried in its own abdomen from a previous fight, an arm still clutched in its mouth. Hitoku's sword was now through its neck.
Crackle
Across the courtyard, near the broken gate, the air shimmered again.
Gekido reappeared, clutching his neck back in place. He had swapped places with a member of his "family", awakening this ability in the midst of danger.
"Clever… bastard…", Gekido gasped, dark blood bubbling from his lips. His vitality was immense, already trying to close the wound, but the severity of the injury were taking a toll. He was no Lower Moon. He was just a demon stronger than average. His level dipped.
[Gekido – Lv. 32 (↓6) Demon]
It seemed like it had a cost too. But it had saved his life.
"You're full of surprises", Hitoku said, "A spatial transference blood art tied to a bonded group. But now that you exposed it..."
[You have killed a Lv. 16 Demon. You have received 32 EXP]
[Warning! Sun is rising!]
But the night was over. The eastern sky was no longer black, but a deep, velvety indigo, bleeding into purple at the horizon. The first true rays of dawn were minutes away.
Gekido saw it too. Rage burned in his eyes, but survival was stronger.
"This isn't over, Cyclop. I remember your scent. Your eye. I will find you. This time, I will not attempt to make you family. I will cut you. Shred you. Take everything from you!"
With a final, pained snarl, he turned and fled, moving with shocking speed despite his injury, disappearing into the pre-dawn shadows of the town.
Hitoku made no move to pursue. The sun was the greater enemy. He turned back to the engawa.
Elder Sozen stood calmly, though Hayate and Sasuke were poised, unsure. The transaction was complete, yet the air was thick with unresolved threat.
"It was a pleasure learning under you, Elder Sozen", Hitoku spoke, "Until we meet again, I wish you a long and prosperous life. Scale, with me"
As the first golden ray touched the roof of the outpost, Sozen let out a long, weary sigh. He looked at the dissolving bodies of the two demons, at the blood on his doorstep, and at the pale, shocked faces of his grandsons.
"The world is changing", he muttered to himself, "Demons who learn as they fight, who bargain, who wield demon slayer breathing techniques…"
He turned and shuffled inside, the dawn at his back, the scroll now in the hands of a demon.
But his blood was alive.
The Tsurogawa clan lived on.
The Crow Breathing Style lived on.
The future had already shifted.
The looks of despair in Hayate and Sasuke's eyes did not escape his gaze: "Whatever happens in the future, do not ever forget this feeling. Let it forge your body, iron your will, fuel your blade"
These were his last words.
By the next day, the demon slayer corps sent reinforcements. They had been slow. Kakudonate was after all a rural town in the South of Japan. The nearest Hashira was a sixty miles away, a distance far too great to cross, even for a Hashira already in a mission.
Sozen would not meet the demon slayer corps with dishonor. To save the Tsurogawa's honour, he committed seppuku.
Without anyone to behead him.
Without anyone to save him from bleeding out.
While his grandsons were focusing on recovering from the previous night's event, drowning their guilt and humiliation in training, Sozen chose the path of seppuku, eviscerating himself in his room. Alone. But with honour.
He had made a selfish deal with the demon for his clan.
And he was now paying the price for it.
The demon corps accepted it. They did not pursue the affair, and sealed the incident.
They did gather information about the two demons who had appeared in the Kakudonate vicinity.
One, who had the ability to recruit other demons and strengthen them.
The other, who had knowledge of the Crow Breathing Style.