Good News!

The young swordsmen, brimming with energy as they stepped through the morning dew, rushed out from the torii gate. Some had dirt on them, while the worst injuries were merely torn clothes.

Led by Hiruma and the other four, the young people stood before Rengoku Shinjuro in a formation shaped like the character for "two."

As Shinjuro looked at the group, he was dumbfounded. Had these brats gone on a picnic?

He counted them again and again, then rubbed his eyes in disbelief to make sure he was not seeing things.

As a Hashira, he knew better than anyone just how brutal the Final Selection was. Out of twenty-five people, having ten survive would already have been impressive.

Yet reality was this dreamlike. Twenty-five went in, and twenty-five came out.

A one-hundred-percent survival rate—something unprecedented in the Demon Slayer Corps' centuries of history.

"Uncle?" Seeing Shinjuro stare silently at everyone, Hiruma softly reminded him.

Shinjuro came back to his senses. After bursting into laughter, he returned to his usual hot-blooded uncle self and said heartily,

"Congratulations on all passing the Final Selection! Keep working hard from now on!"

Every young man and woman wore a radiant smile, full of youthful vigor, like the ever-blooming Wisteria Flowers around them.

They had made history, achieving an unprecedented one-hundred-percent survival rate. All of it was thanks to those standing at the front.

Every one of them had been helped by Hiruma's group of five. Murata had the most to say about that.

When bragging in the future, he could say that he had slaughtered Demons alongside five Hashira.

To the young swordsmen, Hiruma and the other four were undoubtedly dazzling rising stars. They gave everyone hope—the possibility of wiping out every Demon in the world.

As the longest-serving member of the Demon Slayer Corps, Shinjuro was deeply gratified, for he saw the Corps' future in these youths.

The future lay in the hands of these young people. The Demon Slayer Corps' decline would soon be a thing of the past.

He snapped his fingers, and in the next moment, twenty-five Kasugai Crows flew toward the youths.

Under the morning light, the Kasugai Crows' true feather colors emerged. They were not unchanging black, but rainbow-like and brilliantly colorful.

In truth, the Demon Slayer Corps prepared enough Kasugai Crows for everyone at every Final Selection. It was simply that the rules did not allow every crow to find a master.

This time, none had been prepared in vain.

Kasugai Crows chose their masters entirely by instinct. They circled above the crowd, but not one landed.

Suddenly, the largest Kasugai Crow was the first to dart out from the flock. It naturally landed on Hiruma's shoulder and coldly uttered a few words.

"Give me a name!"

Hiruma examined the Kasugai Crow that had chosen him. Why did this feel like some domineering CEO had fallen in love with me?

Forget it. As for a name, he said with a smile,

"I'll call you Saber!"

"How about it?"

"Mm!" The Kasugai Crow nodded, still aloof and overflowing with arrogance.

After a while, every Kasugai Crow had chosen its master. If nothing unexpected happened, it would accompany its master until he died in battle.

Next, the swordsmen needed to select their own Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Crimson Ore.

These two minerals were mined from the place closest to the sun. Nichirin Blades forged from them were the only weapons capable of harming Demons.

Shinjuro pointed toward a platform nearby and said to everyone, "Young people, choose the minerals that belong to you, then carve out a future of your own!"

"The future of the Demon Slayer Corps is entrusted to you!"

There was not much difference between the ores, so Hiruma casually picked a set.

Then Kakushi members emerged from the Wisteria Flower grove nearby. They had been waiting for a long time and would measure the swordsmen's body sizes before taking the measurements back to headquarters for the tailors to make their uniforms.

The minerals selected by the swordsmen would also be delivered to Swordsmith Village by them.

The Kakushi handled the Demon Slayer Corps' logistics. Without them, the Corps would be like a table missing one of its legs.

Everyone who joined the Demon Slayer Corps shared the same goal: creating a world without Demons.

"Brother, what's your name?" Hiruma casually struck up a conversation. Even if he could not see the other person clearly, remembering a name was no problem.

The Kakushi member measuring Hiruma froze for a moment. Then, a young voice rang out.

"My name is Sato Kageha!"

Hiruma held out his hand and said with a smile, "Tendo Hiruma. Please take care of me from now on!"

"Thanks for your hard work!"

Kageha looked at Hiruma in disbelief. After all, few people ever thanked Kakushi members. The Kakushi had always handled logistical work, so they did not receive as much attention as the swordsmen fighting on the front lines.

Most swordsmen also took the Kakushi's efforts for granted.

"Please take care of me too, Mr. Tendo!" Kageha tightly clasped Hiruma's hand, remembering both his face and the respect he had shown.

Once all preparations were complete, the Kakushi members left Mount Fujikasane one after another. They had to return everything to headquarters as quickly as possible.

The members who had passed the selection, meanwhile, went their separate ways to await their Nichirin Blades and uniforms before beginning their Demon-slaying missions.

Rengoku Shinjuro's Kasugai Crow hurriedly departed from Mount Fujikasane as well. It had to bring this wonderful news back to headquarters at once.

Headquarters, the Ubuyashiki estate.

Ubuyashiki Kagaya and Gyomei were discussing matters when Taro noisily landed on Kagaya's shoulder. Its voice, much like Shinjuro's, sounded overflowing with passion.

"Oyakata-sama, Oyakata-sama!"

"Wonderful news!"

"Taro, don't rush. Take it slow!" Kagaya soothed it with a smile.

"The Final Selection had a one-hundred-percent survival rate! All twenty-five people survived!"

Upon hearing that, the roster in Kagaya's hand quietly fell to the ground. Even the calm Oyakata-sama could not help but tremble inwardly.

A one-hundred-percent survival rate!

He removed the letter tied to Taro's leg. It bore Rengoku Shinjuro's own handwriting.

Oyakata-sama, congratulations! I believe that in just a few years, the Demon Slayer Corps' decline will surely be reversed. Hiruma, Iguro Obanai, Sabito, Giyu Tomioka, and Kyojuro beheaded a total of ninety-five Demons. The Demons across all of Mount Fujikasane have nearly been wiped out.

All five possess the potential to become Hashira. Thinking of this fills me with immense joy.

Please take care of your health, Oyakata-sama!

"Oyakata-sama, what has made you so happy?" Gyomei noticed the change in Kagaya's presence and asked.

"Gyomei, the Demon Slayer Corps' future will be incomparably bright. Before long, you will have juniors of your own." Kagaya was brimming with excitement as he eagerly recounted the letter's contents.

After hearing it, Gyomei pressed his palms together, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. This truly was wonderful news.

"Amane, bring me some paper and a brush. I want to write letters thanking Senior Urokodaki, Senior Kuwajima, and Senior Shinjuro. They have trained exceptionally outstanding swordsmen!"

At that, Amane emerged from the room carrying paper and a brush, her face filled with a heartfelt smile. Ever since her husband had taken over the Demon Slayer Corps, she had rarely seen him smile so happily.

Kagaya wrote swiftly, a thought taking shape in his heart—one he had never dared to imagine before.

Perhaps the conflict between humans and Demons could be settled in this generation.