Rei reached the coastline before midday.
The jungle loosened its grip gradually. Thick roots gave way to sand and scattered stone. The air shifted, carrying salt and the steady rhythm of waves striking rock. Rei moved without haste, his senses open, his posture relaxed.
He felt no tension.
If slave traders remained, he would sense them. Their presence carried noise, disorder, and fear masked as cruelty. Rei detected none of it.
The shore lay empty.
Broken crates rested half-buried in sand. Rope fragments tangled among stones. Footprints faded toward the water, scattered and careless. A temporary camp dismantled in haste.
They had fled.
Rei observed the scene calmly. No ambush waited and watchers hid among rocks. Ships no longer lingered beyond the horizon.
He nodded once.
They had luck.
Near the edge of the abandoned camp, something caught his attention.
Steel.
Rei approached and brushed sand aside, revealing a sword partially buried beneath debris. Rust clung to the blade. The edge showed chips and wear. Time had treated it without kindness.
Rei lifted it carefully.
The weight felt honest. The balance leaned forward, imperfect yet usable. The blade carried history rather than decoration.
A real sword.
He adjusted his grip and drew a simple arc through the air. The steel answered slowly, yet faithfully.
"This will do," he said quietly.
He turned back toward the jungle.
The first battle followed before the sun reached its peak.
Movement disturbed the undergrowth ahead. Rei sensed the beast before it revealed itself. A massive predator emerged between trees, muscles coiled beneath scarred hide. Its eyes fixed on Rei with instinctive certainty.
Rei did not retreat.
He centered himself and shifted his breathing.
The rhythm changed.
Inhalation deepened, measured and controlled. Heat spread through his limbs. His awareness sharpened, narrowing and expanding at once.
A method refined in another life.
The beast lunged.
Rei stepped inward.
Steel flashed.
The blade traced a clean line across the creature's foreleg. Blood followed immediately. The beast recoiled in shock rather than pain.
Rei advanced.
Each movement aligned with breath. His sword struck joints and tendons with surgical precision. He avoided wasting strength on heavy blows, choosing control instead.
The beast collapsed quickly.
Rei stood still, breathing steady, blade stained.
The body trembled lightly from exertion. He acknowledged it without concern.
This body remained young.
Technique carried it forward.
Another beast followed soon after.
This one relied on speed rather than mass. It circled rapidly, testing distance, snapping at the air. Rei watched calmly, blade held low.
He waited.
The beast lunged.
Rei pivoted, guiding the attack past him. His sword cut across the creature's flank, then struck again as it turned. The fight ended within moments.
Rei adjusted his breathing and moved on.
As the day progressed, encounters continued.
The jungle tested him repeatedly. Each beast differed in size, speed, and approach. Rei adapted without hesitation. He adjusted stance to uneven ground. Shortened movements to preserve balance. He refined timing with each exchange.
His swordsmanship flowed naturally.
It had reached the limit of the Demon Slayer world long ago. Technique, perception, and breathing had already peaked there. What remained now was application under new conditions.
This world allowed continuation.
The system remained silent.
Growth accumulated beneath awareness.
By late afternoon, Rei paused near a stream to clean his blade.
Blood washed away, revealing rusted steel beneath. The sword carried flaws, yet it remained reliable. Rei accepted its condition and adapted his technique accordingly.
Perfection held no importance.
Function mattered.
He drank sparingly and continued deeper into the jungle.
The final confrontation of the day came as shadows lengthened.
A larger beast emerged near a clearing, its presence heavier than the others. It roared, asserting dominance. Trees trembled under its movement.
Rei approached deliberately.
He regulated his breathing, entering a sustained rhythm. His awareness sharpened fully.
The clash lasted longer.
The beast charged repeatedly. Rei avoided direct impact, carving shallow wounds to weaken it. A claw grazed his side, drawing blood. Rei adjusted breathing immediately, stabilizing focus.
The final strike came through timing.
Rei slipped past the beast's last charge and drove the blade upward into a vulnerable point beneath the jaw. The creature collapsed heavily.
Rei knelt briefly, controlling breath and heartbeat.
Victory came through discipline.
As night settled, Rei returned toward the interior of the jungle.
Stars emerged faintly through gaps in the canopy. The island shifted into a quieter rhythm. Predators withdrew. Insects dominated the soundscape.
Rei cleaned his blade and rested beneath a familiar tree.
He reflected.
Slave traders had fled.
Jungle provided training.
The sword served as extension of will.
Breathing methods compensated for youth.
One day confirmed his conclusion.
This island offered safety through danger.
Rei closed his eyes briefly.
Tomorrow, training would continue.
He welcomed it with the smile.