A person both gentle and immensely strong.
That was how Kamado Kanero had come to view Oboro.
This impression had been passed down from his ancestors, just like the legacy he carried.
It was different from the Sun Breathing technique he practiced, which had originated so long ago that its true beginnings were now lost to time.
At first, Kanero only knew it as a "priceless treasure" handed down through every generation of his family—something he must master through the Dance of the Fire God, protect, and pass on without fail. It was a duty that could never be neglected.
But as he grew older and his strength deepened, fragments of memory hidden in the depths of his soul began to surface…
Slowly, he felt he was beginning to understand.
The breathing technique he cultivated was not merely a power—it was also a promise.
He caught glimpses in his mind of a samurai from the past, wearing the same earrings as himself… and another blurry figure draped in a black haori, resting a warm, gentle hand upon his head.
The face was indistinct, yet the feeling it brought was one of profound warmth.
The first samurai he did not recognize; his father had never spoken of him. But the second figure—Kanero knew with certainty—it was Oboro.
The first memory stretched too far back into the mists of time, but the second remained vivid and clear, belonging to an era not so distant from his own.
Those hazy fragments had originated from an ancestor of the Kamado line—someone who had once met and known Oboro in their youth.
From everything he had been taught, and from what those memories revealed… the true Oboro could never be the man standing before him now!
A stench.
An unbearable, suffocating stench.
Kanero could smell it emanating from Oboro's body. And in his eyes, a faint black mist seemed to swirl around the man, corrupting and tainting everything it touched.
"This feeling you sense comes from your ancestor, Kamado Sumiyoshi… and also from another man, Yoriichi Tsugikuni, who felt nothing but disdain and loathing for demons. You carry the blood of a lineage bound by fate—forever linked to the existence of demons. It was because of demons that Sumiyoshi and Yoriichi crossed paths. And it will be because of demons that your descendants, in the years ahead, will bear the duty to purge them from this world entirely."
"That… was how it was originally meant to be."
"But now… everything has been rewritten."
Oboro spoke with a calm smile.
"Eri!"
Kanero called out to his wife.
The woman understood at once. She hurried inside and closed the door tightly behind her.
Demons feared sunlight—it was common knowledge.
Yet the man standing before him stood unharmed beneath the sun's rays, as if it were nothing at all. It was something Kanero could barely believe.
"I used the blood of demons to transform myself into an entirely new form of life. Normally, you would not have sensed anything amiss. After overcoming the weakness to sunlight, I became indistinguishable from a human—able to walk freely in the light, proving that this body is no longer something impure or foul, but a new species entirely. However… I underestimated the strength of your family's will, and the conviction etched deep within your souls. That power allows you to see what I truly am, and where I came from."
"Yes. In the end… I am still something born from a demon."
"Truly…"
Kanero's eyes grew misty and red.
He understood what Oboro was saying.
He was admitting the truth.
This man was indeed the legendary Lord Oboro.
A heavy sorrow filled Kanero's heart. It felt as though it came not only from his own feelings but also surged up spontaneously from the very depths of his being.
"No matter how much the world changes, it seems your family remains exactly as it always was," Oboro said softly.
He watched as Kanero's expression shifted from confusion and wariness to quiet acceptance.
"You see… even knowing I was once a demon, you have still chosen to accept me."
"Why?" Kanero asked.
Oboro's strength was beyond question. Unless he had willed it himself, nothing in the world could have forced such a transformation upon him. And according to history, he should have passed away centuries ago.
"I simply wished to remain in this world a little longer."
Kanero fell silent for a long moment.
Then he spoke again: "Forgive me… but I cannot invite you inside."
His meaning was clear. He was willing to stand and speak with Oboro, but as a husband, he must first ensure his wife's safety.
In the past, if Oboro had met Kamado Sora or Kamado Kiyoshi, they would never have regarded him with such caution. For the Kamado family had always lived by a simple truth: as long as a demon did no harm, they would treat it no differently from any other living being. They knew how to distinguish between demons of evil and those of good.
Lady Tamayo was proof of that.
Even Tanjiro, whose entire family had been slaughtered by Muzan, should by all rights have harbored an obsessive hatred toward all demons—yet he never did.
Since the late Edo period, Oboro had quietly altered the course of history and shifted the very nature of the world, allowing demons to grow more numerous and influential. Gradually, humanity's perceptions had changed as well.
Add to that Kanero's natural concern for his wife's safety, and his reaction was only to be expected. His character had indeed shifted slightly from the traditional temperament of his ancestors.
Oboro also sensed that Kanero had killed many demons in his time—more than a few.
The Inheritors, in their quest to reshape the world, were turning humans into demons at a far faster rate than Muzan ever had. And to compete against both the Inheritors and the Demon Slayers, even though Muzan tried to control their numbers, the total population of demons had grown to more than ten, even twenty times greater than in the original timeline.
Through all those years of conflict and chaos, the town at the foot of Mount Kumotori had remained safe and untouched by the scourge of demons—only possible thanks to the quiet protection of the Kamado family.
After speaking, Kanero bowed respectfully.
"It is of no concern. Would you be willing to sit and talk for a while?" Oboro waved off his apology gently.
"I would be honored."
Kanero nodded.
The two sat together on wooden stumps in the clearing outside the house.
Less than an hour later, Oboro rose to leave, with Kanero watching him go.
He had asked only about the history and continuation of the Kamado lineage over the past century.
Kanero appeared to be the fifth generation after Kamado Kiyoshi. Unlike Kiyoshi, who had lost his father at a young age, Kanero had grown up knowing both his father and grandfather.
This was because the strain and side‑effects of Sun Breathing on the human body had weakened over time. Each generation now lived longer, ensuring that the technique was passed down more steadily, and the descendants of the Kamado line only grew stronger.
Yet in just over a hundred years, six generations had come and gone—meaning many had still died young, often shortly after having children. This was not due to Sun Breathing, nor could it be blamed on the changes Oboro had brought to the world.
If any of them had left the mountain to walk among the world, Oboro would surely have heard of it. The reason for their shortened lives could only be one thing—and Oboro realized it the moment he first saw Kanero.
Starting with Kiyoshi, and likely the next two generations after him, they had all tried to forcefully advance and refine the Art of Breath and Internal Circulation Oboro had given them—a method capable of extending life and vitality.
Knowing Kiyoshi's deep admiration and attachment to Oboro, it was more than likely he had devoted his life to improving both the circulation method and the Sun Breathing technique.
But the problem was that this internal art went far beyond the level of ordinary breathing techniques. Without proper guidance, trying to develop it alone was dangerous in the extreme. A single mistake could be fatal. Internal cultivation was not something to be trifled with.
Yet they were still of the Kamado bloodline.
The efforts of generations had not been in vain. For in Kanero, Oboro could sense it clearly—he had finally mastered the art of "circulating internal energy."
Every meridian, every vein in Kanero's body hummed with flowing vital energy, completing cycles of circulation over and over again.
And more remarkably… the path of this energy was not one of the patterns Oboro had taught them. It was something the Kamado family had discovered and developed entirely on their own.
They had surpassed even the achievements of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Oboro felt it—he was drawing near to what he had long awaited.
Harvesting the very power he sought—something far beyond breathing techniques, bordering on the realm of true mysticism.
This was why he had climbed Mount Kumotori today.
The Kamado family was the very first "seed" he had planted in this world.
Otherwise, there would have been no reason to come and meet Kanero.
"So a bond was formed after all…"
As he walked back down the mountain, Oboro pictured in his mind the face of young Kiyoshi—the boy who used to watch him with such adoration.
Bonds… in the world of Demon Slayer, they shone with a light all their own.
He had never expected to form such a connection with Kiyoshi, or to influence him so deeply.
Though unintentional, he had also brought misfortune upon him. If that bond had never existed, Kiyoshi would have lived a long and peaceful life, with no reason to risk everything in pursuit of perfecting the internal art, nor to urge his descendants to continue his work.
"I thought I had planned everything perfectly… yet in the end, I still miscalculated. It seems even I cannot control every outcome. The world is far more complicated than I imagined."
"Especially… the human heart and its feelings."
Oboro murmured to himself.
The power of the soul seemed boundless, yet it too had its limits.
For example, it could not predict the future.
He had only wanted to use the Kamado lineage to elevate the circulation technique to a higher level—not to send Kiyoshi to an early grave.
It was a long process, requiring the wisdom of generations, and there was no need to rush.
Yet that was exactly what had happened.
The time when Kiyoshi reached adulthood coincided with the chaotic period Oboro himself had orchestrated—those dozen years known as the "End Times."
In all his travels from the world of Hunter × Hunter until now, Oboro had never regretted anything he had done. He had always followed his own path and purpose.
But suddenly, a faint ache arose within his heart.
Looking at Kanero, he was reminded of Isaac Netero, Rita, and Van—all the familiar faces he had left behind long ago.
"Is this the lingering effect of leaving that world behind? That is not like you at all…"
Oboro sighed softly, half‑mocking himself.
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