2769 Words!
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"Welcome, everyone, to this year's Final Selection."
Two children appeared on the stone platform, each carrying a wisteria lantern. One had black hair, the other white—both with peculiar eyes, black sclera and white pupils, their faces frozen in identical serene smiles.
Kaidō knew the truth behind those smiles. The black-haired one was actually male—Kiriya Ubuyashiki, son of Kagaya. The white-haired girl was Kanata Ubuyashiki.
The Ubuyashiki family carried a curse in their blood—a price paid for their connection to Muzan Kibutsuji. Ever since that bastard transformed into a demon a thousand years ago, every generation of Ubuyashiki children had been sickly and frail, especially the boys. Most died before reaching adulthood. None lived past thirty.
To keep their bloodline from extinction, they'd followed a priest's advice and married into shrine maiden families for generations. It bought them time—barely. But the curse remained, an invisible noose tightening with each passing year.
The only way to break it? Kill Muzan Kibutsuji.
That's why the Demon Slayer Corps existed. That's why these children stood here tonight, smiling like dolls while sending people to their potential deaths.
"To all the swordsmen gathered here tonight," the twins spoke in perfect unison, their voices layered like an eerie harmony, "we extend our deepest gratitude for undertaking the Final Selection."
Kanata: "Within Mount Fujikasane, demons captured alive by the Corps have been imprisoned."
Kiriya: "The wisteria blossoms that grow from the mountain's base to its midpoint bloom year-round. Demons cannot pass through them."
Kanata: "Beyond this point, however, the wisteria does not grow."
Kiriya: "To pass the Final Selection, you must survive seven days within the mountain."
"We wish you all the best of luck."
Kaidō watched the synchronized speech with thinly veiled amusement. If he didn't know the context, he'd swear these two were programmed robots. The uncanny valley effect was strong.
He adjusted his fox mask and walked into the forest without looking back.
...
"That's seven." Kaidō wiped demon blood from his blade, watching another corpse disintegrate into ash. "Seven demons in one night, and still no sign of that Hand Demon bastard."
The moment Urokodaki had given him the fox mask, Kaidō had known what it meant. The Hand Demon specifically targeted Urokodaki's students—anyone wearing that distinctive mask became a priority kill.
Which was exactly why Kaidō wore it openly, practically advertising his presence.
'Come on, you ugly son of a bitch. I'm right here. Take the bait.'
But the forest remained frustratingly quiet.
"Maybe I need to push deeper into the mountain." He started walking again, scanning the darkness. "If I don't find him tonight, I'll have to leave him for Tanjiro when he takes the Selection. Can't have the kid facing this monster unprepared—"
Two demons burst from the underbrush ahead. One had a pair of grotesque horns protruding from its skull. The other looked almost human except for the fangs and the murder in its eyes.
"Finally! Fresh meat!" Horn-Demon lunged forward.
"Back off—this one's mine!" Fang-Demon shoved his companion aside.
"Fuck you! I saw him first!"
"Then let's see who gets there faster!"
They charged simultaneously, claws extended, mouths slavering.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash."
Two heads hit the ground before either demon realized they'd been cut.
Kaidō didn't even break stride. "Not worth the effort to use Dragon Breathing yet. Need to save that for the Hand Demon—if that paranoid freak even shows up."
He knew why the Hand Demon had survived forty-seven years in this mountain. The creature was cautious to the point of cowardice, fleeing from anything that seemed remotely threatening. One whiff of an unknown Breathing Style, and the bastard would vanish into the deepest part of the forest.
Water Breathing might feel like wearing someone else's clothes—uncomfortable and restrictive—but it was perfect camouflage. Just another Urokodaki student using the expected techniques.
"Keep moving forward... wait." Kaidō's head snapped toward a distant sound—trees snapping, something massive crashing through the forest. "That's not a normal demon."
He took off running.
The sound grew louder as he closed the distance—splintering wood, terrified screaming, the ground trembling with each impact.
"How is this possible??" A swordsman burst from the tree line, eyes wide with panic. "Why is there something this huge in the mountain?? Nobody said anything about—"
Kaidō appeared in front of him, blade already drawn. "Get behind me."
The swordsman stumbled to a halt, gasping. "Who—"
"NOW."
Behind them, the trees exploded outward. A grotesque mass of flesh and limbs emerged—the Hand Demon, easily three times the size of a normal human, its body covered in dozens of grasping, clutching hands.
Kaidō's lips curled into a vicious smile beneath his mask. "Finally. I've been looking everywhere for you, Ugly."
"Oh?" The demon's voice was a wet, gurgling mockery of human speech. "Another adorable little fox. And such a pretty one too! That mask makes you positively delicious-looking, little fox. Hehehehe."
The demon's eyes—unnaturally white against its mottled flesh—focused on Kaidō's mask with disturbing intensity.
"Tell me, little fox... what era is it now?"
"Taisho Era."
"The name changed again?? Another era??" The Hand Demon clawed at its own face, tearing chunks of flesh away in impotent rage. "Forty-seven years! FORTY-SEVEN YEARS that bastard Urokodaki has kept me trapped here!!"
"That's impossible," the swordsman behind Kaidō whispered. "No demon could survive that long. It's never been documented—"
"But here I am!" The Hand Demon's laughter was unhinged. "Fifty humans consumed over those decades. Thirteen of them were Urokodaki's precious students. You, little fox, will be number fourteen!"
Its hands flexed, the sound like cracking knuckles amplified a hundred times.
"That mask—carved exactly like Urokodaki's tengu mask. Every single one of his students wears one, and every single one gets eaten by me! Did he tell you it wards off misfortune?" The demon's grin widened impossibly. "I still remember two particularly strong ones. A boy with salmon-pink hair and a scar on his cheek—he almost had me. Got his blade right to my neck... then it snapped. I caved his skull in."
Kaidō's grip on his sword tightened.
"And a girl in a flowered kimono. Not much strength, but fast. She might have escaped... but then I told her about all the other students I'd eaten. She got angry. Got sloppy. I ripped her arms and legs off while she was still screaming. HAHAHAHA!"
"You done monologuing?" Kaidō's voice cut through the laughter like a blade through silk. "Because I'm getting really tired of looking at your ugly ass face."
He turned to the swordsman. "Move. Get out of range. I'm not splitting my attention to babysit you."
The swordsman nodded and scrambled away.
Kaidō launched himself forward—
The ground beneath him exploded. Dozens of hands burst from the earth, grasping, clawing, trying to drag him down.
He twisted mid-air, vaulting over the ambush. "Predictable."
"You dodged??" The Hand Demon's surprise lasted exactly one second before its expression twisted into sadistic glee. "Doesn't matter! You're in the air now—nowhere to run!"
Every hand on the demon's body unified, forming a massive battering ram of flesh and bone that shot toward Kaidō like a cannon blast.
"You think I jumped without a plan? Amateur." Kaidō's blade sang. "Water Breathing, Second Form: Water Wheel."
He spun, using the momentum to redirect his trajectory—landing directly on the demon's extended limb and running along it like a bridge, cutting through smaller hands as he went.
The distance closed in a heartbeat.
"Water Breathing, First Form: Water Surface Slash!"
CLANG.
The blade bit into the demon's neck—and stopped.
What??
"Foolish little fox!" The Hand Demon's laugh was deafening. "My neck is harder than steel! You can't—"
A massive hand swung toward Kaidō's head, aiming to crush his skull exactly like it had done to Sabito.
Not a chance.
"Dragon Breathing, Fourth Form: Coiling Dragon."
Kaidō's blade snapped into a defensive guard. A translucent barrier of energy formed around him—serpentine, powerful, absolute.
BOOOOOOOOOOM.
The Hand Demon's strike connected—and Kaidō was launched backward, but completely unharmed. He landed in a crouch, sliding across the forest floor.
"What?? HOW??" The demon's voice cracked with genuine fear. "That should have killed you! What was that technique?? Why didn't it work??"
For the first time in forty-seven years, the Hand Demon felt something it had almost forgotten.
Terror.
Kaidō stood slowly, tilting his head. "You want to know? Then go ask whoever's waiting for you in hell." His smile was cold, merciless. "Playtime's over. I'm ending this—for Sabito and Makomo."
His breathing shifted. The air around him changed, became heavier, more oppressive.
"Dragon Breathing, First Form: Dragon's Breath."
Power flooded his body—strength, speed, reflexes all amplified beyond human limits. The forest floor cracked beneath his feet as he exploded forward.
"Too fast!" The Hand Demon immediately retracted every limb, forming a cocoon of flesh around itself. "He couldn't cut my neck before! Even with all these hands protecting me, there's no way—"
"Dragon Breathing, Third Form: Divine Dragon's Tail!"
The horizontal slash carved through the air like destiny made manifest. The attack wasn't a single strike—it was a wave of force that expanded outward in a perfect fan, sweeping away everything in its path.
The Hand Demon's defensive cocoon disintegrated like wet paper.
Its head separated from its body in one clean motion.
"Impossible..." The demon's head tumbled through the air, eyes wide with disbelief. "He... he cut through everything... just like that..."
Kaidō walked to where the body was dissolving, kneeling beside the fading head. He reached out and took one of the demon's hands—a gesture so unexpected that the creature couldn't even process it.
"Every monster was once a victim," Kaidō said quietly. "I hope your next life is kinder than this one. Stop being a demon—try being human again."
The Hand Demon's eyes widened. Tears—actual tears—began streaming down its disintegrating face.
Why? Why can't I hate him? He killed me... but I can't hate him...
Memories flooded back. A small boy. A brother. Hunger. The taste of flesh. The horror of realization.
Maybe... maybe this is mercy after all.
"Brother... where are you? I'm scared... it's so dark..."
"I'm right here. Take my hand—I won't let go this time."
...
Seven days passed in a blur of combat.
Kaidō cut down demon after demon, his blade never resting. He saved over a dozen participants who would have otherwise died, and by the end of the week, every survivor knew about the white-haired swordsman in the fox mask who hunted demons like a vengeful spirit.
Most of them had thought he was a girl at first—at least until he corrected them. Even then, the gratitude in their eyes never wavered.
"Seven days." Kaidō removed his mask as dawn broke on the final morning, breathing in the fresh air. "Mission complete. Time to head back down."
His Dragon Breathing had evolved during these fights—every technique sharper, more refined, more lethal. The real-world combat experience was irreplaceable.
Now came the boring part. Paperwork, measurements, waiting for his sword.
At least he'd get to go home and see Urokodaki again.
...
Ubuyashiki Estate
"Most of them survived?" Kagaya Ubuyashiki's smile was genuine, warm. "My children continue to grow stronger. How wonderful."
His wife, Amane, knelt beside him, reading the report from the Kasugai Crows. "The white-haired swordsman—the one trained by Urokodaki-san—displayed exceptional ability. He even created his own Breathing Style."
"Dragon Breathing..." Kagaya's expression grew thoughtful. "Amane, please write a letter to Urokodaki-san. I'd very much like to meet this young man. Invite him to visit once his sword is ready."
"As you wish, my lord."
Kagaya's blind eyes stared into the distance, seeing something beyond the physical world.
"Muzan Kibutsuji... you are our family's greatest shame. But my children grow stronger with each generation. This white-haired boy... I believe he will become one of the finest Hashira the Corps has ever known. And when that day comes..."
His smile never wavered.
"Your thousand-year reign will finally end."
...
Mount Fujikasane—Seven Days Later
"Welcome back, everyone."
Kanata: "First, congratulations."
Kiriya: "You have successfully completed the Final Selection."
Kanata: "You will now be measured for your uniforms and assigned your rank."
The Demon Slayer Corps used a ten-tier ranking system, from lowest to highest: Mizunoto → Mizunoe → Kanoto → Kanoe → Tsuchinoto → Tsuchinoe → Hinoto → Hinoe → Kinoto → Kinoe
Everyone who passed the Selection started at the bottom: Mizunoto.
Kanata: "All of you are currently Mizunoto rank—the lowest tier."
Kiriya: "There is one more matter to address."
Kanata clapped her hands. The sound of wings filled the air as crows descended from the sky—Kasugai Crows, trained by the Ubuyashiki family to serve as messengers and scouts.
A crow with distinctive white markings on its head landed on Kaidō's shoulder.
"Aw, you're adorable!" Kaidō immediately reached up to scratch under the bird's chin. "How about I call you Kuroha? You like that name?"
The crow—Kuroha—nuzzled against his cheek affectionately, making soft cooing sounds.
"Haha, that tickles!"
Kiriya: "From this moment forward, your Kasugai Crow will accompany you. They transmit orders and relay information between Corps members."
Kanata: "Now, please select your ore."
Kiriya: "This tamahagane steel will be forged into your Nichirin Blade."
Kanata: "The forging process takes fifteen days."
Kiriya: "Once complete, the blade will be delivered to you."
Silence.
None of the survivors moved toward the ore.
They exchanged glances—shame, relief, resignation all mixed together. Most of them hadn't killed a single demon. They'd hidden, run, survived by sheer luck and the efforts of others.
Specifically, one white-haired swordsman who'd done most of the heavy lifting.
One by one, they approached the Ubuyashiki twins and bowed.
"We... we can't become swordsmen," a young man said, voice thick with emotion. "We're sorry."
He turned to Kaidō. "Thank you for saving us. We won't forget what you did."
Others echoed the sentiment, bowing low.
"Wait." Kaidō tilted his head. "If I remember correctly, you can join the Kakushi, right?"
Kanata nodded. "Yes. Those who do not become swordsmen may join the Kakushi Corps—the cleanup and logistics division. They don't fight demons, but they provide essential support."
The young man's eyes widened. "Then... I want to join the Kakushi. Even if I can't fight, I want to contribute something."
"Me too!"
"Count me in!"
"My name's Jiro Mimura," the first young man said, turning back to Kaidō with a slight bow. "Thank you again for everything."
"Don't mention it. I'm Ryūjin Kaidō." He removed his mask, offering a genuine smile.
Mimura's face turned red. He quickly looked away, muttering something unintelligible.
Kaidō walked up to the stone platform and selected his ore, then turned to Kanata. "Can I request a custom blade design? I'll cover any additional costs."
"That's acceptable."
Perfect. Kaidō handed over the ore along with a detailed sketch he'd prepared weeks ago during his stay with Urokodaki.
A greatsword—wider and heavier than standard Nichirin Blades. Dragon Breathing demanded power and reach, and a conventional katana wouldn't cut it.
Literally.
"Thanks. See you all later!" He waved to the remaining participants and started down the mountain.
...
Urokodaki's House—The Next Day
"Master Urokodaki! I'm home!"
The old man appeared in the doorway, and without a word, reached up to pat Kaidō's head. "Welcome back. I'm glad you're safe."
Kaidō told him everything—about the Hand Demon, the forty-seven years, the fifty victims, the thirteen students. He carefully avoided mentioning the fox masks, not wanting to burden his teacher with more guilt.
But Urokodaki knew. The old man always knew.
"So that's what happened," Urokodaki murmured. "A demon I captured... became strong enough to kill my children."
His voice was hollow, defeated.
"It's not your fault, Master," Kaidō said firmly. "You couldn't have predicted it would mutate into something that monstrous. Besides, it's gone now. No one else will die because of it. But..." He paused.
"Maybe the Corps should start monitoring the Selection site more carefully. Regular patrols, strength assessments. Make sure this doesn't happen again."
"You're right." Urokodaki's posture straightened slightly. "I'll submit that recommendation."
At that moment, Kuroha swooped through the window and landed on the table. "Kaidō! Master summons! Master summons!"
The crow lifted one leg, revealing a small scroll tied to it.
Kaidō untied the message and handed it to Urokodaki, then scooped up his crow and started scratching behind its head. Kuroha immediately melted into the touch, eyes half-closing in bliss.
"Still weird seeing a crow actually talk," Kaidō muttered. "I knew it happened in the anime, but experiencing it in person is a whole different thing."
Urokodaki finished reading. "The Master wants to meet you. Once your Nichirin Blade arrives, you're to report to Corps Headquarters immediately."
"Understood, Master."
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~# Every 300 Power Stones = Bonus Chapter!
~# Add to Library!