Seeing that man smile, I couldn't help but let out a dry, hollow laugh.
Though his repertoire has increased since our days at the manor, he is still a stone-faced statue who only displays an emotional emoticon a few times a fortnight.
To see such a mannequin-like fellow pouring out his emotions just because he's having a child...
Does becoming a father truly change a person so much?
Looking at him like that, he almost seems like an ordinary human being.
No, scratch that. With that insane martial prowess and his cursed lack of communication skills, he's anything but human.
If I don't do something about him before he croaks within the next eight years...!
Just then—
Caw, caw!
The cry of a crow drifted in from outside the door.
Why on earth is a crow cawing so ominously all of a sudden?
I stepped outside, and what stood before the door was...
"Caw! Caw! Moon Hashira, the Stone Hashira wishes to see you!"
It was a crow with thinning feathers on its head—the messenger of the Stone Hashira.
**
That night.
I headed to the location where the Stone Hashira had requested our meeting.
"Congratulations, Tsugikuni. May the Buddha's protection be upon your nephew."
Upon arriving, I found Anji, a giant monk with a naginata strapped to his back, already waiting. Seeing me, he pressed his palms together in prayer and bowed his head.
The blade of his naginata had a few nicks—small enough to be subtle, but clear enough to prove he had only recently returned from a mission.
"Lord Anji. You've barely returned from duty... You could have simply sent word via Kasugai Crow."
"No. I am taking the time of the busiest man in the Corps. It is only right that the one seeking the favor should make the concession."
Anji brought out some smoked meat and tea.
Smoked meat and tea... an unusual combination, to say the least.
"Would you care for some?"
I accepted the piece of meat and a cup of tea he offered.
"Since you're offering, I won't refuse. But is a monk permitted to eat meat?"
Aren't Buddhist monks originally forbidden from consuming animal flesh?
"Even Shakyamuni Nyorai said one should gratefully consume meat received as an offering. Besides, I am an apostate who has broken the precepts; there is no need for me to cling to them now."
I see.
I lifted the teacup, taking in the aroma before taking a sip.
Wasn't one supposed to appreciate the scent before drinking? I wasn't entirely sure, but I figured this was the proper way.
The scent wafting from the tea felt strangely sweet.
Had he added sugar?
"Anyway, what is it you wished to speak about?"
Anji moistened his throat with the tea before speaking.
"As you likely know... I shall soon die."
Lord Anji suddenly declared his own terminal state.
Since I already knew this fact, I wasn't particularly surprised.
Among the current Hashira—excluding Lord Banda, who passed the Mist Hashira seat to Amano—Anji is the eldest.
He is twenty-three years old.
Since he has manifested the Slayer Mark, he has less than two years remaining.
Yet, I felt no urgency or anxiety from him; he was perfectly serene.
"Though I have only two years left, perhaps it is the 'final flare' of a dying candle, for my body feels so full of life that I cannot imagine it is dying. However, since it is your assertion, a short life must be my truth."
"I see."
Technically, it was Yoriichi who asserted it, but that made the shortened lifespan even more of a certainty.
That fellow would never tell a lie.
Anji continued, looking down at his own hands.
"With these hands, I broke the precept against killing, moving solely with the goal of salvation—to ensure that the evils known as Demons cannot harm another life. Of course, since I have taken life, I am no different from them. Perhaps this 'atonement' is merely my own self-satisfaction."
Lord Anji committed murder?
I had lived alongside the Hashira for three years, and while I knew he was an apostate monk, I hadn't realized the precept he broke was the one against killing.
Of course, the precept against killing refers to all living things, not just humans, so he might simply be referring to the Demons he has slain.
But why was he telling me this now?
"Because of that, I have not spoken much with others. The many people full of life, my friends... I do not regret breaking the precept. Even if it is just an excuse, it was necessary to save children—necessary for salvation. What I do regret, however... is that I did not share more stories with my comrades, no matter how trivial or foolish. That is my regret."
"Is that so?"
Anji looked directly at me.
"Since you joined us, you have changed many things by speaking with everyone. Myself included. Therefore, when I pass, I hope that you will be the one to look after the Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps."
The Hashira were of equal rank; there was no formal hierarchy or subordination among us.
However, because Anji was the eldest and the longest-serving member among the current active Hashira, he was tacitly accepted as the leader and representative of the group.
And now, he wanted me to take his place?
"But I am not the eldest, nor have I served here the longest."
The Water Hashira, Sakata Gin, was the next longest-serving member and was older than me. Why not him?
"And yet, the one who moved the stagnant and regressing Demon Slayer Corps was you."
He moistened his throat with tea once more and continued.
"Because you came here, the Final Selection was reformed and Breathing Styles were propagated, making the Corps stronger than ever before. Therefore, I believe the representative of the Hashira should rightfully be you."
"Hmm..."
"Well, if the burden is too great, you may simply forget I asked."
He said that and began chewing on the meat.
A leader.
What a nuisance. It felt like being appointed the leader of a group project.
But Lord Anji has less than two years to live. How could I refuse the request of a man in his position?
I'd be complete scum if I turned him down.
As I sat there deliberating, someone approached from the distance, waving a hand.
"Lord Anji and Tsugikuni-kun? Now that's a peculiar pair, isn't it?"
The newcomer with the squinty-eyed smile was the Water Hashira, Sakata Gin.
"Lord Anji was just looking for the next Top Dog to lead the pack," I remarked.
"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"
Sakata Gin looked puzzled for a moment, then—
"Wait... you two haven't noticed yet?"
His usual sly smirk vanished. His eyes, which usually looked closed, snapped wide open as he entered a state of absolute focus.
"No."
Anji shook his head.
I shook my head as well.
That sweet scent of tea from earlier...
Even though I had finished the cup, that sweet aroma continued to linger in the air.
It was likely an illusionary Blood Demon Art utilizing scent. However, as someone who had attained the Transparent World, most illusions had no effect on me.
"Is it an illusion type?"
Anji gripped his naginata.
"I'm seein' something like flowers, but it ain't exactly hinderin' me."
Sakata Gin silently drew his Nichirin Blade.
I, too, drew my sword without a word.
Just then.
!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly, an incredibly chilling demonic presence erupted, asserting its existence with overwhelming force.
A demonic aura so dense it created the illusion of something being right before my eyes even when nothing could be seen.
Even Upper Rank Zero, the strongest Demon I had ever faced, did not possess a presence of this magnitude.
I glanced to my side. Crack-like Markings appeared on Anji's arm, and water-ripple patterns manifested on Sakata's cheek.
Sizzle...*
Perhaps because I had instinctively gripped my hilt with all my might, the purple of my blade was beginning to be dyed a brilliant crimson.
"Man, this is truly somethin' else..."
"To think our Marks would manifest reflexively without us even being conscious of it..."
An existence that could make three of the world's top swordsmen break into a cold sweat just through its aura alone.
There is only one such being in this world.
A pair, a man and a woman, emerged from the darkness.
One was a woman with black hair and striking, sorrowful purple eyes.
The sweet scent was wafting from her bleeding arms—likely self-inflicted wounds—identifying her as the source of the illusion.
The real problem, however, was the man beside her. He radiated a demonic presence so terrifying it made the illusion look like child's play.
He had striking pink eyes, and he overflowed with a violent vitality so intense I wanted to deny his very existence even as he stood before me.
If the claims about him being the Master's ancestor were true, the resemblance to the Master was undeniable.
It seems he really is the final boss.
"Kibutsuji Muzan."
The Demon Slayer Corps' greatest nemesis, the Progenitor and King of all Demons.
The weight of that name was heavy.
Neither Sakata nor Anji voiced any disagreement with my identification.
If that wasn't Muzan, then who else could it possibly be?
In the past, what kind of suicidal bravado did the Slayers possess to try and hunt this man down before they even had Breathing Styles?
I had attained the Transparent World, the Mark, and the Crimson Blade. I thought I had grown beyond comparison since the time I faced Upper Rank Zero, but looking at this man, I had zero confidence that I could take him.
Damn it... I really think we need to call Yoriichi for this.
...
In the heavy silence and building tension...
Muzan was the first to move.
He approached slowly, then suddenly reached out his hand.
"I wish to speak with Tsugikuni Michikatsu now."
He pointed a finger directly at me.
Blood Demon Art: Black Blood, Brambles
Unleashing his Blood Demon Art, he shot out dark red bloodlines from his arm, bristling with hundreds of thorns.
Tentacles of dark red blood filled the sky.
Does Muzan have some kind of tentacle fetish?
However—
Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance
The Water Hashira's blade moved with fluid grace, his body riding the flow of the water.
Stone Breathing, Third Form: Igneous Reflection
The Stone Hashira's weapon left no openings, creating his own domain to crush the attacks entirely.
Sakata and Anji used their respective Breathing Styles to deflect every single bloodline Muzan had fired.
"I did that with the intent to kill, but this is quite refreshing."
Muzan tilted his head, an expression of genuine interest crossing his face.
"An' just what kind of talk did ya want to have with Tsugikuni?"
"....."
Wait. No way.
'Muzan... will one day... come for... you... and there... you must... make... a choice... if you refuse his offer... he will seek to... kill you...'
The Master's words suddenly flashed through my mind.
The prophecy.
In that original timeline, Muzan had come to me and offered to turn me into a Demon, and I had accepted.
Are you telling me that moment is right now?
This is getting ridiculous.
"But it is Tsugikuni Michikatsu I wish to speak with."
While I was nursing a headache, Muzan's hand split open, and rows of fangs sprouted from the rupture.
Then,
With a light swing, as if shooing away a pestering insect, an enormous shockwave erupted. Despite being Hashira with manifested Marks, they were blown away instantly, unable to resist the force.
"Blast it...!"
"Tsugikuni...!"
I wasn't particularly worried about them since they both had the Mark and the Transparent World, but still...
"Now then, let us begin our conversation."
Thanks to that, I'm stuck in a one-on-one interview with the final boss.
Well, damn.