The snowstorm grew even more violent.
Inosuke walked at the front, leaving deep footprints in the snow. He didn't turn around, but his impatient voice still carried clearly to Tanjiro's ears.
"Hey, Gonpachiro.
How much longer is this gonna take?
My patience is limited, you know."
"It's Tanjiro…"
Tanjiro staggered along under the weight of the box carrying Nezuko. His breath came out in white plumes, frost already forming on his eyebrows.
"According to Mr. Giyu's directions, once we cross this mountain, we should be able to see Mount Sagiri."
"Tch. Too slow."
Inosuke suddenly stopped.
Mixed in with the howling wind was a faint, almost imperceptible sound—
like something chewing.
"Did you smell that?"
Inosuke shot Tanjiro a sideways glance.
Tanjiro sniffed the air, his expression instantly changing.
"It's blood! A lot of it! It's coming from that temple ahead!"
…
Halfway up the mountain, a dilapidated Buddhist hall stood in the snowy night.
Its lamps were brightly lit, yet the light spilling out carried an air of bleakness.
Before they even got close, the heavy stench of blood was already being carried straight into their noses by the wind.
"Someone's hurt!"
Tanjiro's heart clenched. He broke into a run toward the hall.
"Idiot. There's no one alive in there."
Inosuke rolled his eyes—but his body moved faster than his mouth.
The muscles in his legs tensed instantly. In a blink, he shot past Tanjiro and kicked the creaking wooden door straight off its hinges.
Bang!
The door crashed into the hall, kicking up clouds of dust.
Inside, a blue-gray-skinned demon, its mouth still smeared with human flesh, snapped its head up.
At its feet lay several corpses, already chewed beyond recognition.
"Who's there?!"
It roared ferociously.
But when it saw that only two human boys had entered, the caution in its eyes instantly turned into greed.
"Perfect. Wasn't even full yet—delivery snacks, huh?"
Tanjiro rushed in right behind. When he saw the carnage on the floor, his whole body froze.
This was the first time—aside from Nezuko—that he had seen a real…
"So this is… a demon?"
His hands trembled as he gripped his axe.
"What, scared?"
Inosuke stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, looking at the demon as if it were livestock waiting to be slaughtered.
A demon of this level wouldn't even qualify as a pet in front of his bargain-bin old man.
"Gonpachiro, watch carefully."
Inosuke slowly drew his twin blades.
The jagged, uneven serrations on the blades gleamed coldly under the moonlight.
"This is the truth of this world.
Either you eat people, or you get eaten.
Either you kill demons, or you get killed."
"ROAR—!"
Provoked by Inosuke's contemptuous gaze, the demon howled and lunged forward.
It was fast—but to Inosuke, its movements were riddled with openings.
The hypersensitive touch of his skin let him predict every attack trajectory in advance.
"Too slow."
Inosuke stepped in.
At the exact instant the demon's claws were about to touch him, his body twisted at an absurd angle, slipping past the strike by a hair's breadth.
As he evaded, both blades swung.
ZZZRRRT!!!
The serrated swords clamped down like a crocodile's jaws, perfectly biting into the demon's outstretched arms.
The saw-teeth shredded muscle and jammed against bone with a grinding screech.
"AAAAAHHH!"
The demon screamed in agony.
Its arms were literally sawed halfway off, dangling from its shoulders.
"It hurts! What kind of blades are these?!"
To its horror, a burning pain spread from the wounds—
The unique power of a Nichirin Blade.
"That already hurts?"
Inosuke's eyes were icy cold. He exerted force with both arms and yanked outward.
Rip!
The demon's arms were torn clean off.
Black blood sprayed everywhere, splashing all over Inosuke.
He didn't even blink. He kicked the demon in the gut, knocking it flat, then straddled it.
Gripping one serrated blade in reverse, he pressed it to the demon's neck and began sawing—like cutting through timber.
"You're using Nichirin steel?! You're with the Demon Slayer Corps!"
The demon finally recognized the weapon, despair flooding its eyes.
"No! Don't kill me! I'm immortal! I—"
"Who told you you're immortal?"
Inosuke grinned, flashing his small tiger-like fangs.
"And besides—you're dying ugly."
Scrrrrk—
The serrated blade ground violently against the demon's cervical vertebrae.
The sound alone made Tanjiro, standing at the doorway, feel his stomach churn.
Too brutal.
This method of killing was even more savage than the demon itself.
"Stop!"
Tanjiro finally shouted.
"Give it a quick death! Don't torture it!"
Inosuke paused and turned to look at Tanjiro, genuine confusion in his eyes.
"Quick death?
When it ate those people, did it give them a quick death?"
At that exact moment of distraction, the demon's survival instinct exploded.
Even without arms and with its neck half-severed, it was still a demon.
Its head tore itself free from the last bit of flesh, flew off its body, and lunged straight at Inosuke's throat with its jaws wide open.
"Watch out!"
Tanjiro cried out.
"Tch."
Inosuke snorted. He had already sensed the shift in airflow.
Without even turning his head, he snapped open the iron fan in his left hand.
Smack!
With pinpoint accuracy, he slapped the flying demon head like a fly, smashing it against the wall.
The head rolled onto the floor, still struggling—but the damage from the Nichirin blade had already begun to spread.
"Damn you… damn you, brat…"
Cursing bitterly, the demon's head crumbled into ash.
Inosuke stood up, flicked the black dust from his blade, and looked bored.
"So weak."
Tanjiro stared at the bloodstained clothes left behind, then at Inosuke, who was drenched in blood.
He clenched his axe tightly.
He knew Inosuke had saved him—and killed the demon—but that fighting style filled him with deep unease.
Just then, an elderly voice sounded from outside the hall.
"That blade… where did you steal it from?"
Both boys turned at once.
At the entrance stood an old man wearing a red tengu mask.
He wore a haori patterned with clouds and wooden clogs on his feet, his presence as steady as an unmoving mountain.
Former Water Hashira—
Urokodaki Sakonji.
His gaze passed over Tanjiro and locked firmly onto the two battered, misshapen blades in Inosuke's hands.
They were unmistakably Nichirin swords.
But to be damaged to this extent—
to a swordsmith, it was pure sacrilege.
"Stolen?"
Inosuke sheathed his blades, stepped over the demon's remains, and walked straight up to Urokodaki.
He lifted his chin, emerald eyes staring boldly into the tengu mask.
"Old man, you can eat whatever you want, but don't talk nonsense.
These are trophies I took with my own skill."
He pointed at himself, then at Tanjiro.
"You're that scaly old man, right?
That poker-faced guy sent us to you."
"We want to learn Breathing techniques. Name your price."
Urokodaki: "..."
Tanjiro: "Inosuke-kun! That's so rude! Apologize right now!"
Urokodaki was silent for a moment.
Behind the mask, the old man's eyes sharpened.
This boy was… strange.
His physical abilities were absurdly high. The battle just now had been brutal, but his reaction speed and muscular control were top-tier.
A natural killing machine.
But that mentality…
If left unchecked, he might become something even more terrifying than a demon.
"A blade taken by force will never truly be yours."
Urokodaki's voice turned stern.
"You want to learn swordsmanship? Then first learn how to speak like a human being."
Before the words even finished—
Urokodaki's figure blurred, without the slightest warning.
Smack!
A perfectly placed chop landed squarely on Inosuke's forehead.
"Ow!"
Inosuke clutched his head in shock.
Impossible. His skin was incredibly sensitive to airflow.
Yet this old man's movement was like air itself—he only realized it after being hit.
So this was… the strength of a former Hashira?
"You're not qualified to wield blades yet."
Urokodaki turned and sprinted into the dark forest, his speed astonishing.
"Bring your sister—and this rude brat—with you.
Follow me. If you lose me, go home."
Inosuke stared at the old man's back, rubbing his swelling forehead.
The shock quickly transformed into excitement.
"Interesting.
This old man's way stronger than that trash demon who only knew brute force."
He turned and kicked the still-dazed Tanjiro in the backside.
"What are you spacing out for?! Didn't you hear him?
Run! If you lose to this old man, I'll stuff all the charcoal you sold me into your mouth!"
With that, Inosuke adjusted his breathing and shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Tanjiro gritted his teeth and chased after him.
"Wait for me! Inosuke-kun!"
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