Time slipped by quietly, and before anyone realized it, the day was drawing near when Tanjiro would face the Final Selection.
These two years had been almost entirely devoted to training.
Among the two, it was Tanjiro who bore the greater burden of exhaustion. Li Xuan, thanks to the mysterious sign-in ability he possessed, had a body that could not be measured by ordinary standards.
What felt like grueling hardship to normal people, days filled with fatigue and aching muscles, was nothing more than light exercise to him.
Day after day, his constant sign-ins had stripped away nearly every lesson from Sakonji Urokodaki.
Li Xuan had learned all there was to learn, even things that should not have been part of his training, such as the delicate craft of carving the fox masks.
His strength had already stepped firmly into the realm of the Hashira long before Tanjiro was anywhere near ready.
Some might question this, but Li Xuan's sign-in ability allowed him to completely master everything he obtained. His knowledge and power never felt foreign or unused.
He even gained skills like the accumulated experience of slaying demons, which ensured that his strength was undeniably on par with the Hashira.
During their training, Sakonji had long since noticed Li Xuan's extraordinary nature. More than once, the old man was secretly startled by the young man's astonishing talent.
In all his years as a cultivator, ever since he had retired from active duty as the Water Hashira, he had never encountered a student with such overwhelming potential.
Tanjiro's gift was remarkable as well, but compared to Li Xuan, his brilliance seemed much dimmer.
"Perhaps only that child who became a Hashira in a few months could truly compare," Sakonji often found himself thinking.
By the latter half of their training, Sakonji had realized that he had nothing more to teach Li Xuan. With that in mind, he shifted almost all of his effort and attention onto Tanjiro. This caused Tanjiro's exhaustion to climb steeply.
Each day he pushed his body until it nearly collapsed, and the only thing that kept him enduring the pain was checking on his unconscious sister several times a day to remind himself why he was fighting.
In truth, Sakonji liked Tanjiro more. After living with the two of them day after day, he had come to understand their characters.
He saw clearly that Tanjiro possessed a deep, unwavering belief in the mission of demon slaying, a belief that made him more suited to carry the sword than Li Xuan, who seemed to lack any true conviction.
That did not mean Sakonji would prevent Li Xuan from becoming a member of the Demon Slayer Corps.
On the contrary, he welcomed any capable fighter who could contribute to the cause. He also regarded Li Xuan as his disciple and felt pride in his abilities without even a hint of favoritism.
By all rights, Li Xuan could have gone to the Final Selection long ago. Sakonji had already recommended it several times, judging that his strength was more than sufficient. Yet Li Xuan had refused.
He wished to wait and go alongside Tanjiro, so that the boy would have someone to rely on during the trial.
Sakonji had agreed. Nearly all of the disciples he had trained before had died during the Final Selection.
Only Giyu Tomioka had survived, a rare exception among countless failures. In his heart, the old man secretly hoped that these two disciples would return alive.
What Sakonji did not know was that the deaths of his previous students were tied to him.
Each time a disciple departed, he gave them a protective mask, a charm he believed would safeguard them. Yet those very masks became the cause of their deaths.
On Mount Fujikasane, where the Final Selection was held, lurked a demon far stronger than the others that roamed the mountain.
This was the Hand Demon, one that Sakonji himself had once captured before his retirement.
That demon remembered the mask Sakonji had worn during their battle, and since then, it had hunted down anyone who bore a similar mask, killing them out of vengeance.
Without this demon, more of Sakonji's disciples would surely have survived. His training was harsh and unforgiving, but it forged students of real strength.
The massacre of his pupils was not the result of weak instruction but of the grudge held by that monster.
Because so many had perished, Sakonji had grown reluctant to let children face the trial. At times he even deliberately discouraged disciples from going, for fear of watching more bright lives vanish.
Yet with Li Xuan and Tanjiro, things were different. Both showed exceptional skill and determination. Though he still set them the impossible task of cutting through a massive boulder before they could go, deep down he believed that both of them would succeed.
One afternoon, Li Xuan stood on shattered rocks, his sword resting on his shoulder, and looked at Tanjiro who stared blankly at his own unbroken stone. "Have you cut through your boulder yet?" he asked calmly.
Tanjiro's mouth fell open. He was still frozen in disbelief at how Li Xuan had cleaved his own boulder with a single stroke.
Only when Li Xuan lightly tapped the back of his head with the blunt side of his sword did he snap out of his daze. "Not yet…" he admitted.
Tightening his grip on his blade, Tanjiro clenched his fists and tried to rouse himself. "I can do it today. I definitely can."
"Good. Keep it up," Li Xuan encouraged with a faint smile. "Just try to be like me."
"Aah! That's impossible!" Tanjiro cried, his face twisting with frustration. His earlier resolve crumbled into an expression that screamed, "I can't do it."
Li Xuan chuckled. "That is why Kamado Tanjiro needs to try even harder."
"It is Kamado!" Tanjiro shouted back, correcting him with an indignant look.
When the two returned to the house, they found Sakonji already preparing dinner. Seeing the joy on Tanjiro's face as he entered, the old man asked with anticipation, "You succeeded?"
"Yes, Master Urokodaki! I did it!" Tanjiro shouted, his voice higher than usual with excitement.
Li Xuan sat beside the small pot simmering over the fire. "Both of us succeeded," he said calmly.
Tanjiro's process had been far more difficult, but in the end he too had triumphed. The spirits of the fallen disciples Sabito and Makomo had aided him, guiding his blade and his heart through the challenge.
Li Xuan, watching from nearby, was deeply curious about these lingering souls of the dead. He almost wanted to approach and test the boundaries of their existence himself.
"That settles it. Tonight, we will not eat the usual meal. To celebrate your success, we will feast on a hotpot banquet!" Sakonji announced with rare enthusiasm. Even his usually steady voice betrayed his happiness, and a smile spread across his face beneath the tengu mask.
"Alright!" Tanjiro cheered, almost bouncing with joy.
Li Xuan was pleased as well. It had been far too long since he had eaten hotpot, and the thought of rich broth, tender meat, and fresh vegetables stirred his appetite.
After they had eaten until they were full, Sakonji reached into his sleeve and withdrew two masks. He handed one to each of them.
Both disciples accepted them with careful hands.
"This is a warding mask," Sakonji explained. "I have placed a blessing on it. It will guard you from misfortune. I pray that you both return safely."
"We will," they answered together in unison.
Over the years, Li Xuan had grown a measure of affection for the old man before him. He was grateful for his care and for the knowledge he had passed down, even if it had often felt like Sakonji was being stripped bare by his sign-in ability.
For that reason, Li Xuan silently promised that he would not let Sakonji down. Once he joined the Demon Slayer Corps, he would kill demons earnestly.
Not only because it was part of his side missions, but also because he respected the care of the former Water Hashira.
The next morning, the two packed their belongings and set out early, their footsteps carrying them steadily down the mountain while Sakonji watched in silence.
"Master Urokodaki! Please take care of my sister while I am away! And please thank Sabito and Makomo for me!" Tanjiro's voice carried faintly as he shouted from afar.
Sakonji's face stiffened beneath the mask, and his eyes grew complicated with emotion.
How had this boy come to know about the long-departed Sabito and Makomo?