Chapter 204: Hurry Up and Say Thank You, Sabito
It wasn't until the two of them had crossed the threshold of the hidden village's entrance that a furious roar echoed from the treeline behind them.
"Hey! Brat! Where's the blade you promised?!"
Hotaru Haganezuka had barely finished selecting his temporary residence under the village chief's personal supervision. Without even bothering to unpack his tools or tidy his room, the eccentric swordsmith had scoured the entire village for Akira, finally catching up to him at the perimeter. Rolling up his sleeves, Haganezuka marched aggressively toward the young Hashira, his hyottoko mask practically radiating pure, unadulterated rage.
"Ah..." Akira blinked, pausing in his tracks. "I almost forgot. We originally came here to have our Nichirin Blades maintained."
Beside him, Kanae let out a soft, breathy laugh, her lilac eyes widening in sudden realization as she spoke in perfect unison with him.
Between soaking in the restorative hot springs and engaging in a life-or-death struggle against two Upper Rank demons, their emotions had been stretched to the absolute limit., having already gone through the tedious process of blade maintenance once before, both of them had completely pushed the chore out of their minds.
The standard procedure for a Demon Slayer was simple: Arrive at the hidden village, hand the Nichirin Blade over to the designated swordsmith, wait patiently for the repairs to finish, retrieve the freshly polished weapon, and leave.
Akira stared at the furious swordsmith. He didn't want to explain that the waiting time had been interrupted by a demonic siege, nor did he want to detail exactly how they had retrieved their weapons in the heat of battle. Can't we just say the process was completed in spirit? he thought, offering Haganezuka a perfectly serious, deadpan stare.
Haganezuka's hands twitched toward his own neck. To be so careless with my masterpiece... you deserve death!
Before the swordsmith's aura could fully darken into murderous intent, Akira simply unclipped his scabbard and tossed his Nichirin Blade over. Catching the hint, Kanae offered a polite, apologetic smile and turned back to find Kozo Kanamori to finish the maintenance process that had been so rudely interrupted the night before.
Because of this little oversight, the two Hashira ended up wandering around the newly relocated Swordsmith Village for another full day, only departing the following morning.
Two days later.
The Ubuyashiki Estate.
Eliminating two Upper Rank demons in a single night was an unmatched victory, one that naturally mandated an emergency Hashira Meeting. The serene gravel courtyard, usually a place of quiet reflection beneath the blooming wisteria, was currently playing host to a rather chaotic scene.
"Three, four, five, six..." Sabito muttered, his hands clamped firmly onto Akira's shoulders, shaking the younger man back and forth with enough force to rattle his teeth. "There are only six Upper Ranks in total, and you've already butchered more than half of them! I haven't even caught a glimpse of their shadows! You could at least leave some for me!"
Akira swayed on his feet, his vision blurring slightly from the aggressive shaking.
On the night the Swordsmith Village was discovered, Akira and Kanae hadn't been sure exactly how many forces Muzan would deploy. Playing it safe, they had immediately dispatched their respective Kasugai Crows in different directions to call for reinforcements.
Given the strategic importance of the village, three Hashira had patrol routes stationed relatively nearby. One was Kanae. The other two were Sabito and Gyomei Himejima. Aside from Akira—who operated as a roaming Hashira without a fixed jurisdiction—they were widely considered the three heaviest hitters currently active in the Demon Slayer Corps.
Upon receiving the emergency summons, Gyomei and Sabito had abandoned their posts and rushed toward the mountains at top speed. However, their starting locations hadn't exactly been close. Even pushing their breathing techniques to the absolute limit, tearing through the forests through the dead of night, they hadn't arrived until the early hours of the morning, just as the sun began to peek over the horizon.
By the time they breached the tree line, the village was already completely evacuated and empty.
It was only later that the two reinforcements received the full report: the village had been ambushed by two Upper Ranks, both demons had been successfully decapitated, and every single villager had been safely evacuated. While Sabito had breathed a massive sigh of relief knowing his friends were safe, deep down, a bitter sense of frustration gnawed at him. Not only had he made a wasted trip, but the glaring reality that the gap in strength between him and Akira had widened significantly once again was impossible to ignore.
The frustration had been so suffocating that on his way back, Sabito had casually slashed a grotesque, disembodied eyeball spying on him from the shadows just to vent his irritation.
Somewhere in the Infinity Castle, Nakime had simply blinked her single eye in sheer confusion.
Sabito's grip tightened on Akira's haori. He still vividly remembered the night Akira had barely managed to delay Akaza, ending up beaten half to death in the process. It was only because Sabito and Kanae had taken turns carrying him at top speed that Akira had reached the Butterfly Mansion in time to survive.
Now, just over a year later, Akira was capable of slaughtering Akaza in a terrifyingly short window of time.
As for Sabito's own progression? He had certainly improved, but his growth wasn't nearly as monstrous. Over the past year, he and Giyuu had taken turns visiting Gyomei's estate for brutal physical conditioning. Recently, Sabito felt he had pushed his physical vessel to the absolute limit of his natural talent. Yet, when it came to the elusive world of seeing the world with his 'heart'—the Transparent World—he remained completely baffled.
After countless fruitless attempts to grasp the concept, Sabito had chosen to pivot, focusing instead on developing new Breathing Forms. He hoped that by pushing his swordsmanship to new heights, he might accidentally stumble into that state of highly concentrated attention and absolute inner tranquility.
Instead, he turned around only to learn that Akira had fully mastered the Transparent World, slaughtered Akaza, and casually finished off Hantengu as a bonus. It was a true proof of Sabito's ironclad mental fortitude that he didn't just collapse into a depressive heap right there in the courtyard.
Since the day they first met, Sabito had always chased after Akira, using the younger man as his ultimate benchmark. But the gap had only grown wider into an impassable chasm. Worse yet, Sabito had recently been overtaken by Kanae, and right on their heels, Sanemi and the others were catching up with terrifying speed.
Didn't someone say back then that once your strength reaches a certain peak, it becomes incredibly difficult to improve further? Sabito thought, his eye twitching. What happened to the bottleneck?!
I was stuck trying to figure out the Transparent World for an entire year, Akira thought, reading the sheer exasperation on his friend's face. How is that not a bottleneck?
"Stop shaking me," Akira sighed, raising a hand to casually swat Sabito's grip off his shoulders. "The Twelve Kizuki aren't a limited resource. Although the strength requirement to become an Upper Rank is steep, who knows? Maybe Muzan will just drag some new subordinates out from whatever hole he hides in."
Akira straightened his collar, offering a dry smile. "Besides, didn't I leave two for you? Kokushibo and Douma. Those two are still hopping around out there. Why don't you take your pick?"
"You really think highly of me..." Sabito muttered, staring at Akira in utter speechlessness.
Although he was too proud to ever admit defeat verbally, Sabito possessed a crystal-clear understanding of his own limitations. Facing the bottom three of the Upper Ranks, he was confident he could put up a solid fight and secure a victory. But as for the top three? Even if he burned through his own life force, he would only be buying a few minutes of time at best.
Just then, Giyuu, who had been standing silently off to the side like a decorative statue, finally spoke up.
"Why doesn't Akira pick one?"
The entire courtyard fell dead silent for a fraction of a second before everyone—save for Akira—burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Akira slowly turned his head to stare at the Water Hashira. His dark eyes conveyed a very specific mixture of emotions: thirty percent anger, thirty percent absolute speechlessness, and forty percent sheer, exhausted resignation.
How should I put it... Akira sighed internally, rubbing his temples. I'm just used to it by now.
Giyuu met Akira's piercing gaze and simply blinked, his deep blue eyes completely innocent and devoid of any malice.
"Giyuu," Akira said, his voice dangerously calm. "How about you come with me to block the front entrance of the Eternal Paradise Faith next time?"
"Not going."
Giyuu refused instantly, his tone blunt and entirely matter-of-fact. Combined with his perpetually expressionless face, for a long moment, no one in the courtyard could decipher the actual reason behind his refusal.
According to common logic, it should mean that Giyuu deemed his own strength insufficient and didn't want to hold Akira back in a fight against Upper Rank Two.
But that icy, unbothered expression also seemed to radiate a bizarre aura of arrogance, as if the Water Hashira simply disdained the idea of dealing with a 'mere' Upper Rank. At the same time, it also felt like Giyuu just didn't want to give Akira any face whatsoever.
In Giyuu's mind, the logic was perfectly sound: Based on our current intelligence, Douma's strength is not something I can handle right now. It is far better for Gyomei and Akira to join forces. If I participate, I might become a distraction and get in their way, so I won't go.
Seeing the rest of the Hashira staring at him in heavy silence, Giyuu blinked innocently once again.
Watching the subtle shift in his eyes, the group collectively sighed, guessing that Giyuu's true intention leaned toward the first, more humble speculation. It had to be said that after experiencing multiple 'baptisms' of Giyuu's uniquely atrocious communication skills, the Hashira had all developed a rough ability to decipher the true meaning hidden behind his blunt words.
Among them, Sabito—who had served as Giyuu's personal translator for years—deserved the vast majority of the credit.
Sabito rubbed his face, looking at Giyuu. "Hurry up and say thank you."
The rest of the Hashira nodded in unison. "Thank you, Sabito."
Giyuu tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Is there anything to thank him for?"
Sabito's jaw locked, a vein pulsing violently at his temple as he resisted the urge to flip the nearest table.
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