Weakness

"Sss."

Like oil sizzling over a roaring fire, the demon's skin and head began to melt rapidly under the sunlight.

The demon, which even Ninjutsu couldn't destroy, was as fragile as melting snow in the sun. Its regenerative ability was easily suppressed.

The demon, which had been so wildly arrogant, let out a scream of fear and pain.

"No! No!"

"I'll tell you!"

"It was Lord Muzan!"

"Lord Muzan made me!!"

Sarutobi Hiruzen narrowed his eyes at the familiar name.

"So it really is."

Aside from the timeline being off, the demon before him had all the traits of the world he remembered.

Eating humans to evolve, being immortal, and fearing sunlight.

Demon Slayer.

The only reason the demon before him could move around during the day was the unusual terrain of this valley, where sunlight could barely penetrate.

"The timeline is just a little too early."

"Four hundred years too early..."

Sarutobi Hiruzen regarded the still-screaming demon, weighing the situation.

"Looks like Muzan hasn't been beaten to a pulp by that heaven-sent powerhouse yet."

"Even a lower-ranking demon can call him by name..."

"He hasn't been bound by blood..."

Sarutobi Hiruzen didn't think there was anything wrong with arriving at this point in time.

On the contrary, this timeline gave him the chance to witness the grace of a figure as divine as the Sage of Six Paths.

"Tsugikuni Yoriichi."

A hint of anticipation stirred in Sarutobi Hiruzen's heart.

As far as he was concerned, becoming a demon to pursue immortality was unlikely.

Even if he solved the problems of sunlight and eating humans, he still wouldn't think much of it.

After all, Demon Slayer was only a Two-Star World. Judging by Kibutsuji Muzan's strength, he couldn't even match the Hokage of a village in the Naruto world.

Sarutobi Hiruzen had plenty of opportunities. There was no need to bind his bloodline to a mere Two-Star World.

By comparison, Sarutobi Hiruzen was more eager to speak with a talent like Tsugikuni Yoriichi.

"After all, he was the First who cut Muzan down until he lost the will to fight..."

"The talent to create Breathing Styles from scratch is far too rare."

As Sarutobi Hiruzen thought this, he stepped forward, conveniently blocking the sunlight falling on the demon's head.

The demon stopped screaming and merely panted.

Its extraordinary vitality had already begun to regenerate its body, though the sunlight had slowed the process considerably.

"If I don't become a demon..."

"Then demons really are rather impressive creatures."

Sarutobi Hiruzen admired the demon's vitality, which surpassed even Wolverine's, and praised it inwardly.

"Congratulations. You've survived for now."

Sarutobi Hiruzen wore an amused expression, with a hint of fervor that was difficult to detect.

"But you'll be living on an experiment table."

After all, as Professor of Ninjutsu, it was perfectly natural for him to study something interesting.

The island nation in this world was in an extremely backward, ancient era.

The roads, both large and small, were rugged.

Only the main roads were somewhat level, making them the preferred route for merchants and armies.

A large, sprawling caravan was traveling along one such road. Several tall horses led the way, followed by a substantial number of loaded carts.

It was clearly a sizable caravan.

"It's getting dark..."

"Tell the others to set up camp here."

"We're still some distance from Kyoto..."

Within the caravan, a middle-aged man in fine clothes, with a shrewd and resolute expression, gave orders to someone beside him.

An elderly steward and his young daughter stood nearby.

After acknowledging the order, the steward told the rest of the caravan to set up camp and rest, and arranged for guards to take turns keeping watch.

Once the steward had left, the middle-aged man sighed. He felt exhausted in both body and mind after the long journey.

He was the head of a merchant clan. If the chaotic times hadn't made it increasingly difficult for caravans to travel, and if his clan had had a trusted man to send in his place, he wouldn't have had to come himself.

In this age of endless unjust wars, traveling the trade routes was extremely dangerous.

There were not only wild beasts in the forests, but also bandits—some genuine, some not—who preyed on travelers along the main roads.

Real bandits were the least of his worries. Most were desperate commoners who banded together with little more than a few battered swords and farming tools. They were usually so thin and weak that they posed no threat to a lightly armed caravan.

The most troublesome were the fake bandits, who were really soldiers turned brigands.

Most were made up of roaming samurai and soldiers. Some were even private troops belonging to registered clans. They were well trained and ruthless, with no concern for the consequences of attacking travelers.

As he thought of this, the middle-aged man remembered something and turned to the elegantly dressed young woman beside him, his expression serious.

"Hezi..."

"Go wash up."

"Make yourself presentable, then take a meal to Lord Sarutobi..."

Hezi's heart tightened as she understood what her father meant.

But she wasn't surprised. In this age, attaching oneself to the powerful was simply a woman's lot.

The Lord Sarutobi her father had mentioned was a ninja they had encountered on the road.

He was somewhat older, but possessed nearly unbelievable skill. With just a few punches and kicks, he had scattered a group of more than thirty private soldiers and rescued the caravan.

Because of this, the middle-aged man had invited Lord Sarutobi into their company with great respect, granting him the highest level of hospitality.

"Yes, Father."

Hezi bowed slightly, her manner graceful. Clearly, she had undergone strict Yamato Nadeshiko training.

"I wonder if Lord Sarutobi is really the one they say—"

The middle-aged man frowned and hurriedly cut off Hezi's speculation.

"Watch your tongue!"

"This isn't something we should know or discuss."

"It would be fortunate if we could win the favor of such a powerful man, but even if we can't, it's still good to make a connection."

"We're just an ordinary merchant clan. We don't need to get involved in all that turmoil."

As the head of his clan, the middle-aged man was a wise man. Winning the favor of the powerful was certainly a good thing, but the powerful often brought trouble with them.

As for the identity Hezi had suggested, the middle-aged man didn't believe it.

The Lord Sarutobi before them was somewhat advanced in years. He didn't look like the famed warrior serving the Sanada Clan.

Regardless, there was no doubting his formidable abilities. Even what he had shown so far made him the equal of a warrior capable of taking on a hundred men.

In any country or great clan of the ancient world, that kind of ability was enough to earn a title of nobility and a high military rank.

"Yes, Father."

Hezi nodded and said no more, though she felt a little nervous about what was to come.

She wondered whether that lord would like a woman like her.

Meanwhile, inside a separate tent, an oil lamp burned brightly.

Sarutobi Hiruzen stood within, and on the wooden table before him lay a demon with four arms, bound tightly and clawing at the air.

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