Stepping Down

Three days later, Mount Sagiri.

Kurozawa and his fellow disciples returned to the familiar place.

Before they had even reached home, a figure stood straight ahead, looking as though he had been waiting for a long time.

All fourteen were present. Sakonji Urokodaki let out a breath of relief, and the tense expression beneath his mask finally relaxed.

"You all passed the test. Well done. But now that you have become official swordsmen, a life of blood and fire has only just begun."

"Do not let down your guard."

The moment they met, Sakonji Urokodaki spoke calmly.

The disciples all said that they understood the cruelty and strangeness of demons, and that they would be doubly careful in the future.

Only Kurozawa, standing at the back of the group, guiltily turned his head away.

Yet Sakonji Urokodaki spotted him at once.

"Kurozawa, your presence has grown much stronger."

"It seems your trip to Mount Fujikasane benefited you greatly."

To Sakonji Urokodaki's Enhanced Sense of Smell, the chaotic, profound scent belonging to Kurozawa had become more than twice as dense as before.

He could no longer see through the disciple before him.

A scent neither human nor demon—what exactly was it? Sakonji Urokodaki did not know.

But he knew that Kurozawa was not a bad person. He treated his junior brothers and sisters well, respected his master, had no unpleasant personality, and was normal in every way.

"Ahem, it was all right. I fought several powerful demons, so I did gain something."

"Hm? Why are you holding your hand behind your back?"

Sakonji Urokodaki immediately noticed Kurozawa's guilty expression. Coupled with the absence of his Nichirin Blade at Kurozawa's waist, he felt a bad premonition arise.

"Uh..."

In a flash of blue, Sakonji Urokodaki crossed more than ten meters and appeared right beside Kurozawa.

Kurozawa swallowed, then narrowed his eyes and brought his hand out from behind his back.

The blue Nichirin Blade in his hand still gleamed with the same sharp light as before.

However, several loops of white bandages had been wrapped around its middle.

Sakonji Urokodaki slowly exhaled, then silently took the Nichirin Blade.

One hand gripped the hilt while the other pinched the tip, and he applied a slight amount of force with both hands.

Crack!

The blue Nichirin Blade snapped in response, splitting apart at the center.

An almost imperceptible sigh came from beneath the mask. Sakonji Urokodaki looked at Kurozawa without speaking.

"Master, you can't blame me for this. I ran into a Mutated Demon, and its body was way too tough. So I figured I'd use Constant Flux to cut it down, but who knew your Nichirin Blade would snap halfway through?"

"Good thing I, Kurozawa, reacted quickly. Otherwise, you might not have seen me today."

Kurozawa's scalp prickled under that stare, and he rattled off the truth at high speed.

"Mm. It is enough that you returned safely."

"I really didn't do it on purpose—huh?" Kurozawa froze slightly after processing Sakonji Urokodaki's words.

Sakonji Urokodaki, who had always treasured his Nichirin Blade so dearly, had not flown into a rage and harshly rebuked Kurozawa for damaging it.

Kurozawa had even heard genuine concern in his calm tone.

"When I first obtained it, it broke three times within a short period. Every time, it nearly cost me my life. Luckily, my luck was not bad."

"But after I became an official swordsman, it never broke again."

"Only immature swordsmen break their own Nichirin Blades."

"Kurozawa, you still have a long way to go."

"These words are not only for you. All of you should listen carefully and remember this: when fighting demons, the Nichirin Blade is our only support."

Sakonji Urokodaki addressed that final sentence to all the disciples.

If Kurozawa had mastered his sword forms more skillfully, the Nichirin Blade would not have broken.

"When one's swordsmanship is not mature enough, facing evil demons with bodies like steel can cause the Nichirin Blade to break. And along with it, the swordsman's life may break as well."

"If you want to survive, if you want to live to an age like mine, then train yourselves twice as hard. Official Demon Slaying Missions will be assigned soon. That is when the real danger begins."

Sakonji Urokodaki carefully picked up the broken Nichirin Blade. After speaking, he slowly returned to the house.

The disciples looked at one another, and the atmosphere grew heavy for a time.

Sakonji Urokodaki was that kind of person—a teacher strict and demanding toward his disciples.

He would not comfort them. He would only tell them how cruel the world was.

"What are you standing around for? Go practice your swords!" Kurozawa waved his hand and sent his junior brothers and sisters away.

He himself followed Sakonji Urokodaki back into the house.

This was his home as well.

Kurozawa had always lived under the same roof as Sakonji Urokodaki, after all. He had been adopted as an infant.

"Kurozawa, my clothes."

Sakonji Urokodaki carefully put away the Nichirin Blade and hung it on the wall inside the house, speaking with his back to Kurozawa.

"Clothes."

Kurozawa had nearly forgotten about that.

Sakonji Urokodaki's pale blue, water-patterned haori had burst into countless scraps when Kurozawa increased his strength. It was probably still lying pitifully in the dirt atop Mount Fujikasane.

"The Nichirin Blade broke, and the clothes were torn too. Kurozawa, the demon you encountered truly was not to be underestimated."

"I did not expect such a demon to exist on Mount Fujikasane. It poses no small threat to the trainee swordsmen."

Sakonji Urokodaki did not care about the Nichirin Blade or haori being ruined, but Kurozawa's words had made him aware of the hidden danger on Mount Fujikasane.

"Mm, you were the one who captured that demon and put it in there, Master."

"It shouted your name once—Urokodaki."

"A demon covered in hands? No recollection." Sakonji Urokodaki thought for a moment but still could not remember which one Hand Demon had been.

There were many demons on Mount Fujikasane that he had captured. Moreover, it had been decades ago. Hand Demon had still possessed a human form back then and had not mutated into its strange form.

It was normal that he did not know Hand Demon's origins.

"That is not important, but I think Mount Fujikasane needs to be cleared out regularly. We cannot allow demons that have lived for decades to remain there."

"This can no longer be called a trial. Most trainee swordsmen would simply be throwing their lives away if they encountered them."

Demons that likely required Rank A swordsmen to handle reliably were far too much for a group of novices.

Sakonji Urokodaki brewed a cup of tea, sat before the table, and slowly took a sip. "In two days, I will visit Demon Slayer Corps headquarters and resign from my position as Water Pillar."

"I will discuss this matter with the Master then."

Kurozawa looked stunned. "Resign as Water Pillar?"

"Kurozawa, my blade remains sharp, but my body has grown dull."

"Now that you have become Demon Hunter Swordsmen, there are successors for my position. There is no need for me to keep forcing myself onward."

"Originally, I planned to resign as Water Pillar once you became Demon Hunter Swordsmen, and devote myself to being a trainer, raising swordsmen for the Demon Slayer Corps."

The Demon Slayer Corps had a death rate exceeding eighty percent, and swordsmen who served as Pillars were no exception.

Few Pillars met a peaceful end, or reached an age like Sakonji Urokodaki's while still physically whole.

Sakonji Urokodaki had never believed he survived until now because he was powerful enough. He considered himself merely fortunate.

"A trainer is not bad either."

"I am old, but I can still provide fresh blood for the Demon Slayer Corps. It is also a way to continue fighting."

Kurozawa clenched his fist and smiled. "That's good too. Master, you can finally rest properly. From now on, leave the missions that involve facing demons head-on to me."

Sakonji Urokodaki gave an almost imperceptible nod. Rest assured. As a trainer, I will take responsibility for my disciples. And the one I worry about most... is you.

He drank his tea without saying those words aloud.