Himejima Gyomei's Nichirin weapon was special among specials—its form already unlike any other, and its metal forged from an exceptionally pure ore that granted it greater hardness and durability than any standard blade.
In the original timeline, Gyomei had never attempted to awaken a Red Blade through sheer grip strength. Instead, he had used his unique weapon's design: rubbing the chain-linked axe and flail against each other to generate enough friction and heat to ignite the blade.
Now, he stood silently, head inclined toward his massive hands clutching the iron chain. Though blind from birth, Gyomei lived and fought with a clarity that transcended sight. That he had reached such strength despite his blindness was proof of his indomitable will.
Drawing a deep breath, he gathered his strength—every muscle in his body tightening—then focused it all into his hands.
He loosened his grip slightly—then clenched down with crushing force. The chain groaned under the pressure. His hands radiated both heat and resolve, the temperature of his faith itself flowing into the weapon.
Seconds became minutes. Sweat beaded and fell from his stern, tranquil face.
It was no easy feat—hand-forging a Red Blade. In the original history, both the Mist and Serpent Hashira had only achieved it in the heat of near-death. Their unyielding will had merged with their bodies, and the Nichirin had answered.
Was that what it took? A brush with death?
But the Hashira lived constantly at death's door. That raw, desperate awareness of mortality was burned into their flesh and spirit.
And now, Gyomei called upon that instinct. The power of body and will fused, flowing into the metal. Slowly, faint streaks of red began to bloom along the chain, spreading—until the axe and flail were both engulfed in brilliant crimson.
Hand-forged Red Blade!
The room went still. Every eye trembled in disbelief before erupting into joy.
If the Stone Hashira could awaken it through will alone—then so could they! Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow—but there was a path.
This discovery meant everything. A Red Blade that could be activated at will was far more valuable than one that needed preparation. Imagine ambushing a demon who thought your blade was ordinary—only for it to blaze red in your hand.
Chika watched the others' exhilaration with a gentle smile, the corners of her lips curving upward like a proud older sister watching her siblings take their first steps.
Perfect. That's exactly what I wanted to see.
The chamber buzzed with noise until Ubuyashiki clapped his hands softly, bringing the room back to calm.
"I understand your excitement," he said kindly, a faint smile on his pale lips. "I share it. This is a great discovery—one that may change the future of our war. But until everyone has fully mastered this technique, let us keep it secret from the demons."
He lifted one finger to his lips in a quiet shh.
At once, the Hashira grinned like mischievous conspirators. For once, it wouldn't be the demons launching surprise attacks.
It would be them.
As the meeting neared its end, Ubuyashiki turned his head toward Rengoku and Chika.
"By the way," he said, "this new state of the Nichirin Blade still has no name. Since it was born from your duel, I'd like the two of you to name it."
A name.
In the world of Demon Slayers, the three great blessings—the Mark, the Transparent World, and the Red Blade—were rarely named aloud. "Mark" was known, but the other two were mostly narrator's terms, never shouted in battle like, 'Taste my Red Blade!'
Rengoku lifted his chin, pondering deeply, then smiled and turned to Chika. "You choose."
All eyes turned to her.
She could have called it anything she wanted. If she were shameless enough, she could've even named it after herself—something ridiculous like 'Chika Blade.'
…Yeah, maybe not.
She raised one finger and said with an easy grin, "It's just the Nichirin Blade under high heat, right? Let's keep it simple—call it the Red Blade."
"Red Blade… Red Blade…" Rengoku repeated the name softly, then threw back his head with a booming laugh. "Excellent name!"
The others nodded in agreement. It was straightforward, dignified, and memorable.
Thus, the Red Blade was officially accepted into the Demon Slayer Corps.
From that day on, all the Hashira began specialized grip-strength training, striving to achieve Gyomei's level of control—to awaken their Red Blades at will.
Chika trained alongside them, and her progress was astonishing. Her physical constitution far exceeded normal humans, and she hadn't yet reached her limit. Surrounded by these superhuman warriors, her strength grew by leaps and bounds.
Within two weeks, she had surpassed even the male Hashira—second only to Gyomei himself—and became the second person to hand-forge the Red Blade.
Rengoku, Tengen, and Giyu followed soon after, while Iguro and Muichiro began to feel the first sparks of success.
Satisfied with her results, Chika bid them farewell for now. It was time to return and check on Tanjiro, Nezuko, and the others.
The day was beautiful—sunlight spilling across the mountains, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves.
Chika tilted her head back and smiled. "Such good weather… What a shame Nezuko can't come out to enjoy it."
Nezuko, after all, was unique—her body immune to sunlight, though she didn't yet realize it. For now, her fear of the sun was purely psychological.
Chika was still pondering how to help her overcome it when she stopped mid-step, frozen in surprise.
There, in the open courtyard before her quarters, stood Nezuko—bathed in sunlight.
Her skin did not burn. Her eyes shimmered softly as she tilted her head back, gazing up at the clear blue sky.
When she sensed someone approaching, she looked down—and upon seeing her sister, her face lit up with pure joy.
"Big Sister!"