Chapter 54 – Blood More Precious Than Rare Blood
The jet-black haori swayed gently in the night breeze.
Hikaru stood firm before Nezuko Kamado, gripping his transparent Nichirin Blade. Under the moonlight that spilled across his shoulders, the Void Hashira faced down more than ten demons without the slightest tremble in his stance.
"H-Hikaru-san…"
Nezuko's eyes widened.
"Sorry I'm late," Hikaru replied calmly, not even glancing back. "But… I saw your resolve."
Nezuko took a deep breath.
A warm sensation welled up in her chest—he had acknowledged her. The man who once saved her life now recognized her will. Yet, anxiety still lingered in her heart.
"But… right now…"
She looked around at the crimson eyes glinting from every direction in the darkness.
"It's fine. All you need to do… is watch," Hikaru said softly.
He raised his hand and ran a finger along the length of his invisible blade. Starlike particles shimmered into view, trailing along the weapon's edge like glittering dust.
Nezuko said nothing. Despite the unease still curling in her stomach, she knew—right now, she couldn't help. No… worse, she might only slow him down. She took two steps back, clutching her bleeding arm.
Thick drops of deep red blood fell to the ground.
A low snarl echoed through the forest. Dozens of bloodshot eyes watched from all sides, their hunger almost tangible in the cold night air.
But to Hikaru, it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
"…More than ten demons gathered in one place. That's not normal…"
He shifted slightly, his sharp gaze flicking toward Nezuko.
Her blood was still dripping.
He sniffed the air gently.
"…Interesting."
This wasn't how things were supposed to go.
Demons weren't natural. They were created—by Muzan Kibutsuji, using his own blood, to serve a purpose only he knew.
And Muzan… was careful. Obsessively so. He never allowed their numbers to grow unchecked.
Which is why demon sightings were always rare, tightly limited to a few per region.
So if this many had gathered here tonight…
There could only be one reason.
They were being drawn in.
By a scent they couldn't resist.
"…Kamado Nezuko's blood, huh?"
Hikaru's eyes narrowed.
Even under the pressure of his advanced Anti-Demon Aura, the demons hesitated—but none of them retreated.
Their craving for Nezuko's blood overpowered their fear of death.
He'd heard about Rare Blood—a special type of blood that, to demons, was a hundred times more enticing than ordinary human blood.
But Nezuko's blood…
It was likely beyond even that.
Why hadn't Muzan noticed until now?
The answer struck him.
Breathing Techniques.
Only after Nezuko activated her own Breathing Style did her blood awaken—becoming something utterly irresistible to demons.
Just like how blood changed when a human became a demon, perhaps a similar transformation occurred when a human embraced a unique Breathing Style with strong will.
The thought made him pause.
Wind rustled the trees.
Silence hung thick in the air.
Then—
One demon couldn't take it any longer.
It lunged forward, claws slicing through the night air as it hurled itself at Hikaru in a savage arc.
That lone leap was all it took.
Like a trigger pulled, the rest of the demons exploded into motion, charging from every angle in a chaotic swarm.
But just as the first claw slashed toward him—
Hikaru calmly slid his Nichirin Blade back into its sheath.
He inhaled.
Then exhaled.
"…Perfect. I needed the training."
"Void Breathing: First Form – Mirror Reversal."
The moment the first demon's strike landed—
His blade unsheathed.
A flash of radiant light exploded like cracks across a mirror's surface. Under the moonlight, the effect was dazzling—an almost unreal brilliance, like the fracture of starlight itself.
Hikaru stepped forward once.
The light from his blade washed over every demon in front of him. As the wave of death approached, the demons' bloodlust twisted into fear.
Too late.
The mirror-like light had surrounded them.
Within that shimmering field—
All they could see were reflections of themselves.
His blade rose.
Hikaru stepped through the first demon's guard.
A hair-thin slash crossed its neck.
A spray of black blood erupted skyward, followed by a spinning head.
The first demon—gone.
Then four more pounced, snarling, claws flailing wildly.
A cold gleam flashed again.
Hikaru's hand moved once more.
"Void Breathing: Second Form – Crystal Heart."
The light from his previous attack condensed into a single piercing point.
He thrust.
A clean strike pierced another demon's throat, severing its head in one fluid motion.
Three more were already diving in—closing fast.
"Void Breathing: Third Form – Gate of Emptiness."
(Temporary name—subject to refinement.)
Hikaru shifted his stance seamlessly.
He used the glowing point from the second form and spun, slashing in a wide arc. The dot became a line.
His blade flowed like a wave.
Three demons fell—slashed down before they realized they were even in range.
The blood sprayed high.
They had tried to evade.
But all they'd seen…
Was an illusion.
That was the nature of Mirror Flower, Water Moon—a visual trick layered into the sword's motion.
And then—
"Void Breathing: Fourth Form – Thousand-Faced Robe."
(Temporary name—also subject to refinement.)
The remaining demons came all at once, a desperate final charge.
Hikaru changed his grip.
And moved.
Without drawing back, he swung—once, twice, countless times.
Lines became planes.
The sword's arc fractured into a thousand flickering shadows, like the thousand hands of a divine statue. Slashes danced like spirits through the air.
The demons were engulfed.
And in mere seconds…
It was over.
Blood burst.
Limbs flew.
The corpses evaporated into ash.
Hikaru slid his blade back into its sheath.
The entire battle had lasted—
Ten seconds.
Maybe less.
Still, he muttered under his breath.
"…Too slow."
Yes.
Too slow.
If not for testing new techniques, wiping out weak demons like these—demons without even functioning Blood Demon Arts—should have taken under five seconds.
This only confirmed it.
His techniques needed refinement.
They were flowing well, sure. But the execution?
Still too slow.
Too imperfect.
Meanwhile, behind him—
Nezuko stood frozen, wide-eyed.
Every movement Hikaru had just made—every strike—was graceful, fluid, almost serene.
Yet those same motions had annihilated over ten demons instantly.
There were moments…
She couldn't even see him move.
All she saw—
Was light.
And a heartbeat later—
Another demon's head flew.
"So this… is the strength of a Hashira…?"
Nezuko whispered.
She had struggled against a single demon.
And this man?
He had wiped them out—without a scratch, without even dirtying his blade.
"…Are you alright?"
Hikaru turned, his sword now cleanly sheathed, the moon casting a pale halo behind him.
"Guh…"
Nezuko swallowed hard.
Despite his calm and gentle expression, what she had just witnessed made her chest tighten with awe and intimidation.
"I—I'm okay…"
She finally managed to answer, voice soft.
A Kasugai Crow flapped down from above and landed gracefully on Hikaru's shoulder.
Hikaru glanced briefly at her bleeding arm.
"Use your Breathing Technique. Picture your muscles tightening. Block the bleeding."
"Eh? Y-Yes!"
Startled, Nezuko quickly obeyed.
Her technique was far from perfect—but she could control her body well enough to stop the bleeding.
If she couldn't… Hikaru wouldn't have asked her to try.
Once he saw the blood flow halt, Hikaru shifted his gaze—this time, to the right.
Toward a rustling bush.
"That's enough hiding," he said flatly. "You've enjoyed the show long enough…"
"…Sakonji Urokodaki?"
His voice was calm—without accusation, just acknowledgment.
The bushes rustled.
A moment later, a figure stepped out—a man in a blue patterned haori, wearing a red tengu mask.
He walked out slowly from the shadows.
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