Chapter 63 – The Final Trial
The power of the Demon Slayer Mark—
No doubt about it, it was a double-edged sword.
Even for someone like Hikaru, who possessed a powerful support system, the strain on his life force was impossible to ignore. The side effects weren't just dangerous—they were deadly.
But still...
"Twenty-five years old, huh… Given the age of this body, I've still got some time."
His gaze hardened.
This vessel—this body he currently inhabited—was only eighteen.
That meant around seven years remained before the usual death limit that came with bearing the Mark.
And if, within those seven years, he failed to find a way to overcome the curse...
Then his death would be no one's fault but his own.
Hikaru exhaled deeply and turned his eyes away.
The Mark etched onto his body was closely tied to the Breathing Style he had mastered. For example, when a Water Hashira awakened their Demon Slayer Mark, the shape often resembled droplets of water.
The same went for all the others.
But his was different.
Hikaru's Mark resembled a blossoming flower, its lines entangled like veins across his skin—colored in soft gradients of blue, pink, and gold.
Each hue represented the three styles he had absorbed and woven together:
Water Breathing,
Flower Breathing,
and Thunder Breathing.
Even though it had only been a single day...
His Void Breathing had already begun to harmonize them into one.
"With my power now... If I fought Kokushibo again, I could probably match him."
Yeah.
Judging from the stats burned into his mind, he knew—
At best, he could fight the Upper Moon One to a draw.
Kokushibo was the second-strongest demon after Muzan Kibutsuji. With his mastery of Moon Breathing, his Blood Demon Art, and his ability to see the Transparent World, he was a monster far beyond human reach.
To truly defeat him—
"I have to perfect all seven forms of Void Breathing."
His gaze turned forward.
A thick fog rolled across the mountain peak. No stars in the sky. No moonlight. Just endless, heavy silence.
In the distance, he could see Tanjiro still training.
Strike after strike, the boy swung his blade toward the boulder—each slash slicing the air like crashing waves. But the massive rock stood unmoved, unshaken like a reef in the middle of a storm.
Hikaru watched him for a moment.
Then let out a quiet sigh and pulled a small vial from his haori. A thick, crimson liquid swirled inside.
He tied it to the leg of his black crow.
"Go. Deliver this to Tamayo-san."
He murmured softly as the crow took flight, slicing through the sky like a shadow at dusk.
Then, Hikaru turned his back to the view and began walking slowly down the mountain.
— — —
The Next Morning
As the sun peeked over the horizon, training resumed.
Tanjiro was just as enthusiastic as ever.
Kanao Tsuyuri remained her usual silent and focused self.
And Zenitsu...
Well, Zenitsu was still Zenitsu—shrieking, panicking, and trying every excuse in the book to get out of it.
Naturally...
Under Hikaru's firm "persuasion," he ended up joining anyway.
But this time, something was different.
Two more people had joined the training.
"HEEEY!! I wanna get stronger too! I'll take you down, you bastard!!"
A loud voice rang out across the mountaintop.
It came from a boy with wild hair and an even wilder mask—fashioned like a boar's head.
"Listen up, punk! I'm Inosuke Hashibira, and I'm gonna beat you one day!"
It seemed his humiliating loss to Hikaru the other day had only fueled his fire.
Now, all his focus—his entire fighting spirit—was locked onto Hikaru.
Not Zenitsu.
Not demons.
Just Hikaru.
"Well said, boar boy."
Hikaru gave him a light nod, entirely unfazed.
"HUH?! Don't call me that, you jerk!!"
Inosuke snarled, swinging his dual Nichirin Blades. Each one was jagged, rugged, and chipped—like monstrous fangs, the result of him personally hacking away at the metal with a rock.
Yes, even though he wielded Demon Slayer swords…
Inosuke wasn't officially part of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Apparently, two real Demon Slayers once got lost near his mountain.
But instead of helping them, Inosuke beat them up and stole their swords.
Classic.
From the rooftop, Sakonji Urokodaki shook his head as he watched everything unfold.
But he wasn't surprised.
That boy was special.
He didn't follow any existing Breathing Style—not Water, not Flame, not Wind, nor Stone.
He had forged his own.
Beast Breathing.
A style born from primal instinct, untamed and explosive.
Just one word: wild.
"…That guy's dangerous," Tanjiro muttered under his breath, stepping back to avoid Inosuke's unpredictable slashes.
Kanao stood quietly, eyes steady, waiting for instructions.
Meanwhile, Zenitsu…
Was already hiding behind a boulder ten meters away, trembling like a leaf. His face pale. Clearly, he hadn't recovered from the last time Inosuke pounded him.
And then—there was one more.
Nezuko Kamado.
"Are you ready for this?"
Hikaru turned toward her, his voice gentle.
"From here on, things will get far more dangerous."
"Mm."
Nezuko, dressed in her signature pink kimono and dark brown haori, nodded firmly.
Her youthful face was serious—but there was a fierce determination in her eyes.
She had made up her mind long ago.
"Alright then... Let's begin."
Hikaru raised his hand.
His black crow swooped down from above.
Their eyes met.
Mirror Flower, Water Moon.
The illusion was activated.
Nezuko, who trusted Hikaru completely—
And Inosuke, who ran purely on instinct—
Both accepted the illusion without resistance.
Thus, Day Two of training began.
Then came Day Three.
Day Four.
And day after day, they all trained relentlessly.
Their progress was obvious.
Their eyes sharpened.
Their steps grew firmer.
Their aura more refined.
They were all growing.
At the same time, Hikaru—who received feedback from their improvements—continued refining his Void Breathing, adjusting its structure and polishing each technique.
Until at last… the seventh day arrived.
As the golden sun dipped below the horizon, five figures opened their eyes.
Returning to the real world.
Training was over.
Hikaru stood tall.
Sunlight bathed their bodies in hues of crimson and gold. His haori billowed gently in the breeze. His black crow soared high above.
He smiled.
"Congratulations. You've completed the training."
Tanjiro lowered his gaze, staring at his calloused hands.
"We... did it?"
He whispered, barely believing it.
Even though their physical bodies hadn't changed much, they all knew—
Their control over inner strength had reached a new level.
Sharper.
Stronger.
More precise.
"Finally over…"
Zenitsu collapsed to the ground, both exhausted and relieved.
Inosuke, however, clenched his fists and lowered his head.
"Not enough... If I went to fight right now, I'd just die. I still need more time..."
He was holding himself back—barely.
Even his wild instincts understood just how massive the gap still was between him and Hikaru.
Nezuko bit her lower lip, silent.
Kanao tilted her head slightly, as if in thought.
Hikaru looked at them all.
His eyes were calm, yet filled with pride.
"You know what to do next. I don't need to repeat myself."
"But..."
"Even if this is the final day of training—
It doesn't mean your journey ends here."
Everyone fell silent.
His words echoed like distant thunder.
From the sky, his crow let out a sharp cry.
And from the rooftop—
Sakonji Urokodaki watched them, eyes somber and serious.
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