Chapter 5 — Slash
As the Hand Demon's massive body finally crumbled into ashes and dispersed into the air, the cursed forest seemed to recover a faint trace of its former stillness.
Although a subtle stench of decay still lingered in the air, the suffocating pressure that had weighed heavily on the surroundings had largely dissipated.
Zoro sheathed his sword and scanned the area. The forest remained pitch-black, but anyone with a shred of common sense could tell—the most threatening source of "malice" was gone.
"Hey, the big guy's taken care of. Since we can't get out anyway, might as well find a place to sit for a while."
Zoro yawned, utterly devoid of tension despite being deep in enemy territory, as if this were nothing more than a campsite on some random island.
He casually picked a relatively dry-looking tree, sat down cross-legged beneath it, leaned back against the trunk, and closed his one eye—apparently ready to fall asleep in seconds.
"Eh?! Resting here?! No way! The firelight will attract other demons! It'll definitely attract them!"
Zenitsu was still in a state of lingering shock. Seeing Zoro sit down, he panicked like an ant on a hot pan, spinning in circles while clutching his hair, tears once again welling up in his eyes.
"It's alright, Zenitsu."
Tanjiro had already gathered some dry branches and neatly stacked them into a small pile in the open space before Zoro.
Taking a flint from his clothes, he struck it twice. With a sharp crack, a warm orange flame rose, pushing back a small portion of the darkness and cold.
"There are still traces of demons' scents in this area, but they're all very faint. The Hand Demon occupied this territory for so long that the other demons wouldn't dare approach easily. This is actually the safest place for now."
As he spoke, Tanjiro gently guided the still-trembling Zenitsu to sit down.
Zoro opened one eye and looked at the boy in front of him. Though young, he handled things with steady composure, his gaze clear and resolute.
"You've got quite the nose on you, kid. Just now too—I hadn't even told you, and you already knew where to strike."
Tanjiro straightened his posture and bowed to Zoro once more with utmost sincerity.
"Thank you again for your help! My name is Kamado Tanjiro. If you hadn't shattered that demon's hardened shell, with my current strength, I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to sever its neck."
"Roronoa Zoro."
Zoro gave his name simply. He had never cared for formalities. His sharp eyes fixed on the sword at Tanjiro's waist as he asked the question that truly concerned him—though it had nothing to do with swordsmanship.
"Hey, Tanjiro, you're local, right? There's really not a single drop of alcohol on this mountain?"
Tanjiro froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by Zoro's abrupt shift in topic. Blinking his dark red eyes, he shook his head earnestly.
"That's right, Mr. Zoro. Mount Fujikasane is the site of the Final Selection. There are only countless demons and wisteria flowers here."
Zoro's face darkened instantly, several black lines seeming to fall across his forehead.
"Tch. Fine. If there isn't any, there isn't any."
He irritably scratched his short green hair. In this inexplicable world, not only could he not use Haki—now he couldn't even drink. This was hell.
Sensing the unmistakable gloom radiating from Zoro, Tanjiro felt at a loss. He could smell the "scent of dejection" coming from him, though he didn't quite understand why alcohol mattered so much.
"Um… Mr. Zoro, if we pass the selection and become members of the Demon Slayer Corps, we should have chances to drink while carrying out missions…"
Tanjiro attempted to console him, but Zoro merely waved a hand before abruptly changing the subject.
"Forget it. I want to ask you something else."
Zoro straightened up, his gaze sharpening. He pointed at the sword in Tanjiro's hand.
"That move just now—the one with the water. What's the principle behind it? A Devil Fruit? Or some kind of trick? I didn't sense any fluctuation of that kind of 'special power,' but the water clearly had tangible impact."
If this were before, Zoro might have analyzed it directly with Observation Haki. Now, he could only rely on his eyes and experience. Tanjiro's strike earlier had clearly gone beyond ordinary swordsmanship, yet it wasn't merely a flying slash either.
Hearing the question, Zenitsu stopped crying and pricked up his ears. After all, he only knew a single technique from "Thunder Breathing" and was curious about other styles as well.
"Ah, that's 'Total Concentration Breathing.'"
Tanjiro explained seriously, even demonstrating with a small gesture.
"It's a technique that every Demon Slayer swordsman must master. By inhaling a large amount of oxygen and circulating it through the blood, we enhance our physical abilities—accelerating the heartbeat, raising body temperature… In simple terms, it allows us humans to attain physical strength comparable to demons, so that we can slay them."
"As for the water you saw…" Tanjiro scratched his head sheepishly. "It isn't real water. Master Urokodaki said that when we swing our swords, by adjusting our center of gravity and the point of force through the breathing techniques, the sword forms can flow continuously like running water, or crash down like a waterfall. To others—or even in our own perception—it looks as if we can see water flowing."
Zoro raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into an amused smirk.
"Oh… oxygen strengthening the body? Sounds pretty scientific. So it's not magic, but a pure technique for activating the body's potential?"
It reminded Zoro of "Life Return," or perhaps some kind of specialized martial art. If that were the case, it was much easier to understand.
"Interesting. So as long as you breathe the right way, you can become stronger?"
"Yes! But it's extremely difficult!" Tanjiro replied with a serious expression. "Maintaining that special breathing rhythm makes your lungs feel like they're about to burst. It took me two full years just to barely master it. And there's also 'Total Concentration: Constant,' an advanced technique where you maintain it all day long…"
Zoro listened to Tanjiro's explanation and let out a dismissive snort.
"Two years? Too slow. Anything that can be trained has no limit."
He reached out and gripped the hilt of Wado Ichimonji, his thumb lightly brushing against the guard. In this world where Haki could not be used, this so-called "Breathing Technique" might be the key to compensating for the power he had lost.
Though he was a swordsman and had little interest in flashy visual effects, the idea of "strengthening the body" suited him just fine.
"Hey, Moss Head—uh, I mean, mister Zoro," Zenitsu said, having recovered slightly, though he still shrank behind Tanjiro. He couldn't help but speak up. "Your move just now was insane too! You didn't even use a Breathing Technique, so how did you cut off all of the Hand Demon's arms? That thing could crush rocks! Are you some kind of monster?"
Zoro shot Zenitsu a glance that made him instantly shut his mouth.
"If your swing is strong enough, fast enough, and hard enough, it doesn't matter how many arms it has—they'll all be cut down. That's called the basics."
Zoro spoke lightly, as if the "Tiger Hunt" that had nearly pulverized a small hill was nothing more than swatting flies.
Tanjiro stared at the three swords at Zoro's waist. His keen sense of smell picked up something unusual.
"Mr. Zoro's swords… they have very distinctive scents."
His gaze lingered on the white Wado Ichimonji.
"That white sword smells incredibly pure and sharp. It seems to carry a very heavy vow… and a very long passage of time."
Zoro's grip on the sword tightened slightly. His eyes softened, though they also grew deeper.
"Hah? You can smell that too? What are you, part dog?"
Though his words were sharp, Zoro's assessment of Tanjiro rose another notch. To sense the vow Kuina left behind within Wado Ichimonji—this kid's intuition was frighteningly sharp.
"This sword is 'Wado Ichimonji.' It's the partner that'll carry me all the way to the throne of the world's greatest swordsman. As for the others…" Zoro glanced at Sandai Kitetsu. "Compared to your demon-slaying blades, my swords are meant to cut far more interesting things."
"The world's greatest swordsman…" Tanjiro repeated softly, admiration flashing in his eyes. Though their goals differed, he understood that unwavering determination to move toward a dream.
"Alright. Enough talk."
Zoro suddenly stood, brushing the dirt off his pants.
"If we're done resting, it's time to move."
Zenitsu let out a wail. "What?! Now? But it's nighttime! Nighttime is when the demons are everywhere! Wouldn't it be better to wait until dawn? Tanjiro, say something!"
"No, Mr. Zoro is right." Tanjiro stood as well, tightening his grip on his sword. "The Hand Demon may be gone, but the Final Selection is still ongoing. If we don't advance during the night, it'll be hard to encounter other demons. To pass, we need to ensure we have enough survival capability."
"Huh? Who said I was looking for demons?"
Zoro pointed toward a stretch of dark forest in the distance from their elevated position.
"The wind coming from that direction is stronger. If I'm not mistaken, the exit should be over there."
Tanjiro and Zenitsu followed the direction of his finger.
That was the deepest part of Mount Fujikasane—toward the cliffs.
It was absolutely not the exit.
Tanjiro fell silent for a second. His nose twitched, catching the unmistakable scent of "utterly lost."
"Um… Mr. Zoro, forgive me for saying this, but that direction… is a cliff."
"…Tch."
Zoro casually withdrew his hand and pointed in the exact opposite direction.
"Of course I know that. I meant that for training purposes, we'll head to the cliff first to admire the scenery, then go to the exit. Common sense."
Zenitsu: "That's definitely a lie, right?! You were totally about to head straight off the cliff just now! This guy's sense of direction is beyond saving!"
Amid Zenitsu's frantic shouting and Tanjiro's helpless smile, the trio set off once more.
Though their goals were different, in that moment, an oddly harmonious understanding bound them together as they continued deeper into the night.