Demon Slayer: Starting with the Great Swordmaster System, My Master Is Tsugikuni

With a single strike, Yoriichi severely wounded Muzan, then immediately turned and walked over to him.

The next second, a Nichirin Blade was pressed against Muzan's neck.

Making a Promise, Scribe and Tamayo

His gaze icy, Yoriichi spoke to Muzan.

"What do you regard life as?"

Muzan said nothing. He merely kept trying to place his nearly severed head back onto his neck, seemingly attempting to heal it.

Looking at Muzan, then at the Crimson Blade in his hand, Yoriichi realized something.

Even against the Progenitor of Demons, his Crimson Blade still possessed terrifying destructive power.

After fumbling with it several times, Muzan finally gave up on reattaching his head.

His eyes fixed on Yoriichi, the fury within them seemed ready to burn him to ashes.

His pale face had turned red-black with rage, twisted into a hideous expression.

His teeth clenched tightly, grinding with constant creaks as his body trembled.

Seeing Muzan like this, Tamayo had no intention of helping him.

Her body leaned forward slightly, her eyes wide as she watched his every move.

Her once sorrowful face was now filled with excitement, and her eyes shone with a light called hope.

Suddenly, Scribe's voice rang out.

"Master, someone like him will never understand the true meaning of life."

Yoriichi nodded, understanding his disciple's meaning.

Just as Scribe had said, Yoriichi also felt that his words had never reached Muzan's heart.

If that was the case, then he could take that question to hell and ponder it there.

Raising his Nichirin Blade high, a trace of killing intent flashed through Yoriichi's eyes.

However, just before the blade came down, Muzan moved.

His clenched teeth cracked, and his body exploded with a boom, splitting into countless fragments.

Not good!

Scribe's heart pounded. He had not expected Muzan to still use this move.

His Nichirin Blade left its sheath, joining Yoriichi in slashing at the eighteen hundred chunks of flesh Muzan had split into.

Working together, the two of them shredded more than fifteen hundred chunks of flesh.

The remaining fragments were simply too small; even put together, they were only the size of a head.

But no matter what, Muzan had still successfully escaped.

Yoriichi stood there blankly, seeming somewhat stunned.

He did not understand. He had clearly been only one step away, yet Muzan had still gotten away.

As Yoriichi stood frozen, Tamayo also sank to her knees, unable to accept the fact that Muzan had escaped.

Sounds somewhere between weeping and wailing came from her mouth, while large tears continuously fell from her beautiful eyes.

"We were so close, so close... Why were you able to overcome the weakness of your neck?!"

Grabbing at her hair with both hands, Tamayo spoke through gritted teeth.

"Kibutsuji Muzan, why won't a filthy man like you just die?!"

Amid her grief and rage, Tamayo, overwhelmed by emotion, pulled the hairpin from the end of her hair.

Then she viciously stabbed it toward her own neck.

Yoriichi noticed, but it was already too late to stop her.

Just then, a small but powerful hand seized Tamayo's wrist, stopping her from taking her own life.

"You should know that, as a demon, you can't die from something like this, right?"

"Besides, aren't you curious why you can still live after saying his name?"

Hearing Scribe say that, Tamayo calmed down as well.

"Really... why didn't I die?"

"Probably because Muzan was severely wounded and weakened. He's already too weak to control you."

After voicing his guess, Scribe pulled Tamayo up from the ground.

After calming down, however, Tamayo's face was once again clouded with despair.

"So what? If Muzan can't be killed, then everything is just empty talk."

"No. I will find him and kill him."

Yoriichi's voice came from nearby. Though it was very soft, it carried an invisible strength that inspired trust.

You were only human. How could you possibly find Muzan?

Based on my understanding of him, after what happened this time, I fear he would never show himself again before you died.

From Tamayo, Yoriichi and Scribe learned more about the Progenitor of Demons.

After hearing her out, Yoriichi stood there with a trace of guilt on his face.

If everything Tamayo said was true, then that had been the best chance to kill Muzan.

Yet he had let that very opportunity slip away for nothing.

In that case, Miss Tamayo, would you be willing to assist us in defeating Muzan?

As he spoke, Scribe extended a hand toward Tamayo.

Why dwell on the past? What could not be done then could still be accomplished in the future.

Tamayo looked slightly startled by Scribe's words and hesitated.

But after giving it some thought, she nodded.

Since these two Demon Slayers trusted her so much, she was willing to contribute her own strength to defeating Muzan.

Seeing Tamayo agree, Scribe smiled faintly.

My master and I will make this our lifelong mission.

No. After this, you and I will search separately for traces of Muzan.

Yoriichi's voice suddenly rang out, carrying an unexpected sense of farewell.

Scribe understood what he meant after looking at Yoriichi.

Yoriichi was worried about the aftereffects of the mark.

There were only a few short months left until he turned twenty-five. Yoriichi likely believed that his life would end then as well.

After I die, the task of defeating Muzan will fall to you.

Yoriichi looked at his disciple and gently stroked his head a few times.

Scribe knew this was likely the last time Yoriichi would pat his head.

Just as he was about to say something, a noisy commotion came from deep within the bamboo grove.

There was no need to ask who could have come to the bamboo grove at a time like this.

After exchanging a glance with Yoriichi, Scribe pointed toward the path behind them.

Leave from there. If fate allows, we will meet again.

Tamayo froze for a moment, then quickly understood.

Her identity as a demon was still too sensitive. Staying beside Scribe and Yoriichi would only hinder them.

Parting here was the best choice for both sides.

Tamayo gave a slight bow, then jogged away.

Not long after she left, more than a dozen figures rushed over from the other end of the path.

They were the Demon Slayer Corps Swordsmen led by the nine Hashira.

Soon, the swordsmen stood before Scribe and Yoriichi.

After looking over the severed bamboo and the traces of battle on the ground, the Wind Hashira spoke up.

Was there a battle here? What happened?

Scribe was just about to make up an excuse, but Yoriichi spoke before him.

I encountered the Progenitor of Demons, Kibutsuji Muzan, here, but I failed to kill him.

There was also a pitiful girl by his side. After making an agreement with her, I let her go.

Scribe's expression changed instantly when he heard Yoriichi recount everything so honestly.

Just as he had expected, the Demon Slayer Corps Swordsmen's faces darkened after hearing this.

Several of them even looked at Scribe and Yoriichi with open hostility.

Mr. Yoriichi, I assume you already know about your older brother, Tsugikuni Iwashiro, becoming a demon.

Yoriichi nodded without the slightest attempt at concealment.

Though he had vaguely guessed some of the reasons why his older brother had become a demon, no matter what, they were not excuses for him to evade responsibility.

Seeing Yoriichi admit it without hesitation, the Wind Hashira gave a cold smile.

In that case, then—

Please wait!

Before the Wind Hashira could say anything further, a woman's voice interrupted him.

The Flower Hashira, Inoue Mie.

It had been a long time since they last met, and her presence had grown even more powerful.

Even after becoming a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, she had clearly never relaxed her training in Breathing Techniques and swordsmanship.

"Wind Hashira, please do not forget the task Master entrusted to us."

Standing in front of the Wind Hashira, Inoue Mie showed not the slightest trace of fear.

The Wind Hashira was about to say something, but a man beside him pulled him back.

"Mie is right. Our mission is to bring Mr. Yoriichi and the Scribe back."

The one who had stopped the Wind Hashira was none other than Rengoku Kyōjurō.

Rengoku Kyōjurō now bore a few scars on his face. He must have run into some trouble while hunting demons.

The childishness between his brows had gradually faded, and he was beginning to grow into a qualified Demon Slayer.

Pulling the Wind Hashira aside, Kyōjurō suddenly bowed to the Scribe and Yoriichi.

"You two, Kyōjurō apologizes for what happened before."

The Scribe and Yoriichi were both intelligent people, so they naturally understood that he was apologizing for taking out Tōshirō's death on them.

Yoriichi nodded and spoke.

"Since Master wants us to return, then let us depart."

Seeing Yoriichi agree so readily, the several Demon Slayer Corps Swordsmen felt considerably more at ease.

Setting aside the other party's frighteningly immense strength, the fact that his Breathing Technique was the very root of all Breathing Techniques was enough to make them unable to act freely.