Milky-white nen seeped out from every pore, forming a tight "nen shell" around Rengoku Kyojūrō from head to toe.
He still hadn't learned Ren, so all he could do was use Ten—wrapping nen around his body's surface.
Even so, standing there in front of everyone, his presence climbed higher and higher. In the eyes of Gyōmei and the other Pillars, there was now an indescribable quality to him.
Once your chakra gates open, "ordinary" and "with nen" are two completely different states.
"This is 'divine power.'"
Knowing that everyone could sense something strange but couldn't see nen itself, Kyojūrō extended a single finger, wrapped it in Ten, and poked lightly at the wooden porch pillar beside him.
Pft.
His finger slipped in like a nail through tofu, leaving a deep, clean hole in the wood.
The Pillars' pupils all contracted. Quite a few of them exchanged looks, at a loss for words.
"That slash just now—did you use this 'divine power' too?" Sanemi stared, face twisted.
Out of all the Pillars, he was the most hot-blooded and battle-hungry. He'd crossed blades with Kyojūrō and Tengen more times than he could count. That slash just now had been heavy, blazing fast, and clearly beyond the level a normal human should be capable of—if anything deserved to be called "divine," it was that.
Kyojūrō nodded.
Uzui, standing next to the pillar, ran his hand along the finger hole and clicked his tongue.
"With a body like this, you're no worse than a demon now," he muttered. "No wonder…"
"Namu Amida Butsu."
Another Buddha name floated out, pulling everyone's eyes toward the Stone Pillar.
The towering Gyōmei folded his massive hands together, his gaze burning as he looked at Rengoku.
"Kyojūrō," he said quietly. "May I feel it more clearly?"
There was no anger in his voice—only a warrior's curiosity.
He slapped his prayer beads once, then motioned for someone to bring a low table. Rolling up his sleeve, he planted his thick forearm on it in a classic arm-wrestling pose.
He wanted a straight test of strength.
Gyōmei wasn't just the strongest Pillar in name. Even before learning Breathing Styles, he could beat demons to death with his bare hands and meteor-like morning star, relying on nothing but monstrous physical power.
Everyone knew how terrifying his strength was.
"Gyōmei…"
The Stone Pillar waited in silence; the other Pillars watched in stunned quiet. Sanemi sheathed his sword with a sharp clack and stepped aside. Around them, a wide circle opened up in the main hall.
"Lord."
Kyojūrō glanced at Ubuyashiki.
Yoya smiled, patted his shoulder, and said nothing.
Kyojūrō's gaze swept across the group, pausing briefly on Tomioka Giyū, who stood off to one side with his sword at his hip. Then he smiled, stepped forward, and extended his right hand.
Slap.
His palm met Gyōmei's huge one, fingers locking together.
A breeze drifted in, fluttering wisteria petals through the air.
The moment their hands touched, Gyōmei felt it.
A gentle warmth wrapped around Kyojūrō's hand—"divine power," as he'd called it.
It was warm. It was hot. It was righteous.
And unlike any sinister, warped, or maddened aura Gyōmei had ever sensed, there was not a trace of malice in it.
For a monk who'd trained his heart to clarity—cultivating the "Buddha-heart that sees through delusion"—this alone said a great deal.
People who practiced such Buddhism aimed to see through the body, the breath, and the heart, cutting through greed, anger, and delusion, awakening insight into emptiness—and, as a side effect, into the hearts and natures of others.
To Gyōmei, Rengoku was still that burning flame, the one who warmed others and led from the front. That had never changed.
The difference was that now, that flame had gone from a little campfire… to a roaring bonfire.
And that change, he knew, had everything to do with the boy wearing sun-and-mountain earrings—Kamado Roy.
"Kyojūrō, if you intend to leave, I can't pretend not to see it," Gyōmei said softly.
Then he squeezed.
The table between them creaked.
Gyōmei's forearm bulged with cords of muscle. Veins swelled beneath his skin like coiled snakes. You could practically see his blood pumping.
"Gyōmei's serious…" someone whispered.
"He usually just humors Kyojūrō or Tengen when they spar. I've never seen him go all out like this…"
The Kakushi peeking from every angle—the pine tree, the doorway, the pillars, the walls—were wide-eyed.
Gyōmei pushed.
And Kyojūrō did not move.
His right arm was rock-steady, his elbow anchored to the wood like a spike. No matter how much Gyōmei strained, he couldn't budge him an inch.
"I know. I understand all of it," Kyojūrō said quietly.
He flexed his right hand just a little, pressing down, and Gyōmei's massive hand began to dip.
Sanemi watched in disbelief.
Obanai's pupils shrank.
Mitsuri clenched her fists, barely keeping herself from cheering.
Muichirō's vacant eyes flashed with sudden clarity.
Giyū, silently at the side, narrowed his gaze.
Ubuyashiki tilted his head, listening with his whole body.
With a soft grunt and a final push, Kyojūrō slammed Gyōmei's hand down.
Thud.
The little table couldn't withstand the torque. The top splintered and collapsed, leaving Gyōmei's hand hovering awkwardly mid-air for a long, long moment.
Silence flooded the Ubuyashiki estate.
The Kakushi who often accompanied Gyōmei on missions stared, stunned.
They simply couldn't believe the man who could casually smash a demon's skull with a flail had actually lost an arm-wrestling match.
Their eyes slid instinctively to Kyojūrō, and what they felt now was not just respect—
It was reverence.
"I lost… Namu Amida Butsu."
After a long pause, Gyōmei pulled his hand back. There was no frustration in his face. No despair.
Instead, he pressed his palms together, murmured a Buddha's name, and looked at Kyojūrō with genuine admiration.
"Kyojūrō," he said, "the you standing here today is not the same as yesterday's you."
He paused, then added quietly,
"I've never truly admired anyone before. You're the second."
Everyone knew who the first was.
Without needing to speak his name, a single image rose in all their minds:
A boy with blazing red hair, earrings shaped like sun and mountains, driving a flaming blade straight through an entire courtyard as if it were nothing but paper.
Roy.
Off to the side, Giyū watched it all unfold.
He'd always believed that even if Roy wasn't present, his shadow would still ripple through every corner of their world.
And now, even in Roy's absence, the Corps was telling stories—
legends—
that all pointed back to him.
He remembered their teacher's letter to Ubuyashiki. Remembered the line:
"If anyone can kill Kibutsuji Muzan, it will be my student—Kamado Roy."
Giyū was still lost in thought when he heard footsteps.
Ubuyashiki Yoya, eyes almost completely clouded, made his way slowly to Kyojūrō's side.
He lifted a hand; Kyojūrō bent slightly to meet it, allowing the Lord's frail palm to rest lightly on his shoulder.
"I trust your judgment," Ubuyashiki said, smiling faintly. "And I trust Roy's as well."
Then he turned, raising his dimming eyes as if to look at everyone present.
"And all of yours," he added.
"If you wish," he said, voice steady despite his failing body,
"You are all free to go."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"As long as," he continued,
"you become stronger."
"As long as you can slay demons."
"Even if that means…"
"that one day I must step down as head of the Demon Slayer Corps—"
"I will accept it."
"Lord!" Gyōmei, Sanemi, Uzui, Shinobu, Obanai, Mitsuri, Muichirō, and Giyū all dropped to the floor at once.
Only Kyojūrō remained standing, hands pressed together.
Ubuyashiki listened to their shouted protests with a faint smile.
He could feel, through Kyojūrō's grip on his arm, the fire burning in the young man's heart—conflict, resolve, gratitude, and guilt all tangled together.
He patted Kyojūrō's hand.
"This is not a discussion," he said gently. "It is an order."
"Giyū."
"…Here."
"Write him a letter," Ubuyashiki said. "Tell Roy that I wish to pledge myself under him as lord, if he'll have me."
"Ask him… to come see me."
Giyū froze.
So did everyone else.
They stared at Ubuyashiki, then at Kyojūrō, then at each other.
No one could find words.
After a long moment, only one voice spoke.
Kyojūrō pressed his palms together and bowed his head.
"Praise the Sun," he said solemnly.
The simple blessing rode the wind, carrying with it a thread of devotion and longing, slipping quietly out of this world and into another.
It drifted through the invisible boundary, out of the Demon Slayer world and into the world of Hunters, and there it slid into Roy's ear like the soft toll of a bell.
[Notification: Detected 9 potential followers… under observation…]
[Follower 1: Himejima Gyōmei (Note: "Forced Faith." Loyalty pending growth.)]
[Follower 2: Shinazugawa Sanemi (Note: "Forced Faith." Loyalty pending growth.)]
[3: Tokitō Muichirō… 4: Uzui Tengen… 5: Iguro Obanai… 6: Kochō Shinobu… 7: Kanroji Mitsuri…]
[8: Tomioka Giyū (Note: "Half-forced Faith." Loyalty: Absolute.)]
[9: Ubuyashiki Kagaya (Note: "Voluntary Faith." Loyalty: Absolute.)]
Kukuroo Mountain, Zoldyck estate, afternoon, 2 p.m.
Roy had just stepped out of his room with Gotoh when the system notifications chimed one after another, like a brook in spring.
He reflexively opened his status… and then froze.
The bedroom door swung shut behind him with a soft click.
Gotoh, lugging two suitcases and walking half a step behind, blinked.
"Forgot something, young master?" he asked.
Roy's expression was… complicated.
"Not forgot," he thought, glancing at the long list of "potential followers."
"More like… a whole bunch just showed up out of nowhere."
The entire Ubuyashiki clan and nine Pillars marked as "potential believers"?
Did Kyojūrō do something again?
Roy closed the panel, pushing down his questions for later. He could always ask Kyojūrō directly in a dream.
"Let's go," he said aloud.
Gotoh followed without another word. The two of them walked through the weathered corridors, out the main gate, and down toward the mountain road.
In the garden, Silva had just finished coaxing Kikyo back to sleep and was heading alone toward his study. He gave Roy a quick glance in passing, then looked away and quickened his pace.
"…Master's been acting strange these past few days," Gotoh murmured once Silva was gone from sight. "Feels like he's… avoiding you, young master."
As soon as Gotoh had bowed, Silva had already turned and vanished through the door, leaving only one remark drifting in the air:
"Your mother's about to give birth. Be home early. I… want you to be there."
"Yes," Roy had answered, watching his father walk away before turning downhill.
In the small, dim room on the ground floor, an old man listened to his anime, rocking gently in his chair.
"So nice," Maha chuckled. "The whole family's about to be together again…"
Then his laughter faded into a long, quiet sigh, his thoughts sinking back into memories no one else could see.
He tossed and turned, struggling to find sleep.
2:30 p.m.
On a VIP airship headed from the Republic of Padokea to the Western continent of Yorbian.
Inside a private cabin, Gotoh poured Roy a cup of hot tea and set it down.
They had just boarded when a new transmission came in.
"Young master," Gotoh reported, adjusting his glasses. "They've sent over the mission outline. The target we're breaking out—besides the prison guards—will also have a separate security team assigned."
"Not surprising," Roy said, flipping Grandpa Zigg's Black Continent notes open to the section on Ken (Hard). "If the one we're taking is Razor, ordinary guards aren't enough. Extra security is expected."
"Is this Razor that strong?" Gotoh asked, scrolling through the file on his laptop.
Roy nodded slightly.
"He is."
Gotoh's eyes lingered on a photo of a squinting man, corners of his mouth tight.
"He's a Transmuter, and a serious one," Gotoh said slowly. "But besides him… they've also asked you to be particularly careful of someone else."
"Who?" Roy looked up.
Gotoh turned the laptop around, letting the screen face Roy.
The image that appeared made Roy raise an eyebrow.
"So it's him," he murmured.
Sheep–Ginta, a Poacher Hunter, assault specialist, and a future member of the Twelve Zodiacs.
After Netero's death and the Zodiacs' expedition to the Dark Continent, Ginta had been one of the few assigned to the biological research team.
And—
He was also one of the very few men Peak Hisoka had rated at over 90 points.
Higher than even Kanzai and Ginta's Zodiac peers in some respects—only just beneath Botobai.
~~~
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