Haganezuka unwrapped the Nichirin Sword from its white cloth covering and slowly drew the blade.
It was an absolute, pitch-black color.
A black blade.
He lifted the sword, raised his head to gaze at the blade, and studied it for a long moment. Then he lowered the Nichirin Sword and turned to look at Yuko.
No one could see his expression beneath the fiery mask, but the atmosphere inexplicably grew strange. Tanjiro swallowed nervously.
"AAAAAAH—!" Haganezuka suddenly let out a bizarre scream and lunged straight at Yuko.
Yuko's eyelids twitched slightly. As she leaned back just a little, she calmly extended one leg.
"Ugh—"
Her foot landed squarely in Haganezuka's abdomen mid-lunge, folding him over like a shrimp as he doubled over in pain.
"Eek!" Tanjiro's eyes flew wide open in shock.
Haganezuka, however, refused to give up. Trembling, he reached both hands toward Yuko and desperately said, "P–Please… please tell me who forged this sword… ugh…"
After forcing out those words, as if all his strength had been drained, his head slumped forward and he collapsed onto the floor.
Urokodaki calmly sipped his tea and said flatly, "Ignore him. He's always been like this…"
Before he even finished speaking, Haganezuka began crawling across the floor in a dark, eerie manner, wriggling his way over to Yuko's feet. He reached out and grabbed her ankle.
Yuko looked down.
Haganezuka lifted his head, an ominous aura seeming to coil around his body.
"Tell me…"
Yuko pressed her foot down and flattened him against the floor with a single step.
"Ugh…"
Seeing the pale, mist-like aura drifting off Haganezuka's body, Tanjiro cried out in alarm, "Something's coming out of him!"
Nezuko, who had burrowed back into her futon for "important business," frowned and covered her ears, curling the blanket up high over herself.
…
With his fingers wrapped in bandages, Haganezuka knelt at the table, solemnly admiring the jet-black Nichirin Sword resting atop it.
"Unbelievable… this level of craftsmanship… no, it's not just the craftsmanship—the wielder too…"
He muttered endlessly, speaking not to anyone else, but to himself.
Yuko's lips twitched slightly. This guy… definitely wasn't all there in the head.
Haganezuka suddenly turned to her. "Please—"
"I don't know," Yuko interrupted impatiently. "I already told you, the blacksmith died a long time ago."
He'd been dead for several hundred years—was she supposed to go dig up his grave?
Tanjiro, meanwhile, was carefully studying the shape of the sword.
He had only seen it briefly when Yuko first demonstrated the Sun Breathing forms. He'd never had a chance to look closely.
Two years ago, when he was still burning charcoal, he had known nothing about the quality of blades. But just looking at this sword now made his heart feel heavy.
It felt like an incredible weapon.
Pointing to the inscription on the blade, Tanjiro asked in confusion, "What does the character '滅' mean?"
Yuzi answered, "It means 'Slay or Destroy.'"
"Slay…" Tanjiro repeated softly, his eyes starting to shine. "That's so cool!"
"Don't get your hopes up," Haganezuka coldly splashed water on his excitement.
"Huh?"
"The only ones allowed to have 'Slay' engraved on their blades are those standing at the very top of the Demon Slayer Corps' hierarchy—the Hashira."
Tanjiro's eyes went wide. "Huh?! The Hashira?!"
Now that he had passed Final Selection, Tanjiro naturally understood the corps' ranking system.
Mizunoto, Mizunoe, Kanoto, Kanoe, Tsuchinoto, Tsuchinoe, Hinoto, Hinoe, Kinoto, Kinoe.
And above Kinoe stood the Hashira.
Right now, he was only at the very lowest rank—Mizunoto.
Although he had long guessed that Miss Yuko had deep ties to the Demon Slayer Corps, a blade this extraordinary really was on another level.
"This sword is at least three to four hundred years old. To forge a blade to this extent, it's not just the smith's skill—the wielders throughout its history were absolutely no ordinary people either."
Beneath the comical fiery mask, Haganezuka's voice was steady and serious.
When this guy got serious, he actually sounded like a normal person.
At least, that's what Yuko thought.
"So amazing…" Tanjiro gazed at the Nichirin Sword on the table with admiration.
Wait—three or four hundred years?
Did that mean Miss Yuko was three or four hundred years old?!
Yuko had no idea what wild thoughts were spiraling through his mind. She smiled and said, "Tanjiro, once you completely master Sun Breathing, how about I give this sword to you?"
"…Huh?" Tanjiro froze, completely unable to keep up with her line of thinking.
Before he could say anything, Haganezuka suddenly jumped up and began hopping around wildly. "What?! Give it to this brat?!"
"This brat thinks he's worthy of using a sword like that?!" Haganezuka marched up to Tanjiro and mercilessly poked his finger into his cheek.
"Ow, ow…"
So she really was raising Tanjiro as a successor.
Urokodaki glanced at Yuko and peacefully lifted his teacup.
Yes. Such a tranquil atmosphere.
"Stare…"
"Stare…"
Tanjiro sat stiffly, terribly uncomfortable, with Haganezuka beside him radiating a frightening, gloomy aura.
"This kid won't do," Haganezuka said flatly as he withdrew that dark presence. "Giving him that sword will only bury its worth."
Tanjiro didn't feel angry at all. Instead, he nodded in agreement and said to Yuko, "That's right, Miss Yuko. Look—I already have my own sword."
As he spoke, he waved the blade in his hand.
Tanjiro wasn't the type to covet something just because someone else had something good.
He knew very well that a sword that precious was something he couldn't yet wield to its full potential.
Yuko lifted her gaze slightly. "That sword won't do either."
Tanjiro froze for a second, cold sweat breaking out instantly.
Mr. Haganezuka…
He cautiously looked toward Haganezuka, expecting to see him in a rage—only to find that he had already retreated to a corner, facing the wall and drawing circles on it.
"So mean… I put my heart and soul into making that one…"
Tanjiro: "…"
He actually backed down unexpectedly.
Yuko's lips twitched as she rubbed her temples. "It's not that the sword is bad. Mr. Haganezuka's craftsmanship is excellent."
"But this black blade was forged specifically for swordsmen who use Sun Breathing. Its compatibility with you would be much higher."
Hearing that, Haganezuka silently walked back from the corner.
Tanjiro asked worriedly, "But if you give me this sword, what will you do, Miss Yuko?"
"I'm not suited for Sun Breathing. Keeping this sword with me would only waste it," Yuko shook her head. "Besides, I'm not giving it to you right away."
"At the very least, you'll have to fully master the breathing technique and reach the 'Constant' stage first."
This had been her plan from the very beginning.
She had always kept this sword with her, not because it was powerful, but because it was Yoriichi's relic—nothing more than that.
Giving it to Tanjiro was the best choice.
He would make this dust-covered blade shine once more.
Seeing how serious Yuko was, Tanjiro found himself unable to refuse. And besides…
The sword really did look incredibly powerful!
His motivation surged. "I'll definitely work hard!"
After saying that, he cautiously glanced at Haganezuka again. The man had already returned to his usual self, sprawled over the table as he studied the blade.
Before Tanjiro could relax, a Kasugai crow began circling outside the house.
"Kamado Tanjiro! Hurry to the northwestern town!"
"Go hunt demons!"
"This is your first mission—engrave it in your heart!"
Yuko silently picked up the Nichirin Sword from the table and returned it to its scabbard.
"Huh?! No—!!!"
Haganezuka screamed, trembling as he reached toward Yuko's waist.
Yuko casually slapped his hand away. With a cold sideways glance, she frightened him into retreat.
---
Currently at chapter 363 for advance chapters
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