The Kasugai Crow circled above the woods.
Its flapping wings were noisy, and its hoarse voice repeatedly announced the order to assemble at headquarters.
Giyu's brows knitted tightly, his hand clenching the hilt of his battered Nichirin Blade.
Deep concern filled his eyes.
The order had come far too abruptly.
The higher-ups had always dealt ruthlessly with unknown powers.
This audience was clearly a trap, fraught with danger.
The battle on Spider Mountain had caused too much of a commotion to escape the Hidden Corps' investigation.
That sheared-off mountaintop and the demon remains sliced into precise cubes were enough to throw the entire leadership of the Demon Slayer Corps into sheer panic.
Yaha yawned.
He raised a hand and casually brushed a fallen leaf off Giyu's shoulder, his eyes full of disdain.
"Stop looking so miserable."
Yaha sounded lazy, as though he were heading out for a stroll through the market.
"If the sky falls, someone taller will hold it up. What are you afraid of?"
"These are the Nine Hashira and Oyakata-sama." Giyu's voice was strained. "They won't tolerate a power they can't control."
"Let's go." Yaha slipped both hands back into his pockets and ambled toward the edge of the woods.
"Let's see what tricks these ants want to play."
He tilted his head, a cruel smile curling his lips.
"If anyone gets in my way, I'll slice off his arms and legs."
Watching his indifferent retreating figure, Giyu took a deep breath and hurried after him.
The courtyard of the Ubuyashiki Estate.
Sunlight shone on the white-sand-covered grounds, yet the atmosphere was as cold as an icehouse.
Eight elite swordsmen in differently colored haori stood on either side.
Their positions seemed casual, but they had sealed every escape route from the courtyard without leaving a single opening.
A wooden tray sat in the center of the courtyard.
The samples the Hidden Corps had transported overnight from Mount Natagumo lay quietly on it.
Two pieces of rock and a thick section of an ancient tree trunk.
Their cut surfaces were as smooth as mirrors.
There were no jagged scrape marks whatsoever.
The wood grain and rock crystals had been precisely bisected by some razor-sharp power that governed reality itself.
The Hashira passed the samples around, their expressions growing increasingly grave.
This inhuman power, completely outside the framework of Breathing Styles, posed an immense threat to them.
The Water Hashira Sakonji Urokodaki's earlier letter had been proven true, and the reality was even more terrifying than his description.
The Wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa's face was full of hostility.
Bloodthirsty rage simmered across his scar-covered features.
He kicked the wooden tray over, sending the samples rolling across the white sand. A heavy stone struck the grit with a dull thud.
"I don't care what the hell he is."
Sanemi Shinazugawa pressed his hand to his Nichirin Blade's hilt, veins bulging in his neck and his gaze vicious.
"A freak with powers as unnatural as a demon's? If he dares step through that gate, I'll cut his head off on the spot!"
"I'll teach him that monsters don't get to run wild on Demon Slayer Corps grounds."
The Serpent Hashira Obanai Iguro perched on a tree branch.
His mismatched eyes watched the gate while the white snake around his neck hissed and flicked its tongue.
"Agreed. A threat like this should be eliminated before it gets out of control. Letting him live will only bring disaster sooner or later."
The Insect Hashira Shinobu Kocho stood in a corner, her smile somewhat stiff.
Looking at the rock's smooth cut surface on the ground, she unconsciously rubbed her neck with her right thumb.
The suffocating sensation of having her throat seized in one hand that night in the woods, the helplessness of facing what felt like an abyss, made her fingertips tremble uncontrollably.
She knew better than anyone present that such power could not be measured by common sense.
The heavy wooden gate creaked.
Someone pushed it open from outside.
Dressed in a black Corps uniform, Yaha stepped over the threshold at an unhurried pace, both hands in his pockets.
Giyu followed close behind.
His hand rested on his sword hilt, his muscles taut, ready for anything.
Sunlight fell across Yaha's languid face.
He did not even raise his eyelids.
Eight fierce torrents of killing intent openly locked onto him, like eight invisible blades pressed against his throat.
Overwhelming pressure collided and intertwined above the courtyard. Even the wind fell still.
Yaha stopped and tilted his neck, producing several crisp cracks.
His gaze swept over the eight Hashira braced on either side as though facing a formidable enemy, and his lips curled into a mocking smile.
"So these are the so-called Nine Hashira?"
Yaha's voice was quiet, but his tone was utterly vicious, his eyes cold with condescension.
"The guard dogs sure bark loudly. Too bad all they can do is hide in their yard and yap."
Those words were like a drop of cold water hitting a pot of boiling oil.
A scarlet gleam rose in Sanemi Shinazugawa's eyes.
Violent air currents swept up the white sand beneath his feet.
He became a blur, his green Nichirin Blade flashing out of its sheath.
The razor-sharp wind blades of Wind Breathing wrapped around his sword, tearing through the air between them.
A piercing shriek shattered the courtyard's silence.
The slash shot straight toward Yaha's face with the ruthless intent to kill in a single strike.
Several Hashira nearby did not even have time to call out and stop him.
Behind Yaha, Giyu's pupils contracted, and his right hand instinctively moved to draw his sword.
But he forced himself to stop.
He knew perfectly well that an attack of this caliber would not even tickle the monster before him.
Yaha stood where he was, without shifting his feet an inch.
He still kept one hand in his pocket.
He raised his right hand with utter nonchalance, bringing his index and middle fingers together to meet the descending green blade.
The motion was as natural as catching a drifting dead leaf.
Flesh met steel.
There was no spray of flesh and blood, only an exceptionally dull, strange sound.
The raging green blade was caught firmly between two fingers, three inches from Yaha's nose.
The fierce pressure from the sword scattered outward, yet failed to stir even the black hair over Yaha's forehead.
The sharp blade could not so much as break the skin of his fingers.
Sanemi Shinazugawa gritted his teeth, his arm muscles trembling violently from the strain.
It felt as though his slash had struck an ancient mountain that could never be moved.
A dark red light glimmered in Yaha's eyes.
Terrifying power from Sukuna's cursed energy erupted from his fingertips, surging back along the blade like a tsunami.
Sanemi Shinazugawa gave a muffled grunt.
The webbing between the thumb and forefinger of his sword hand split instantly, blood dripping down the hilt onto the white sand.
The powerful recoil utterly destroyed his footing and balance.
He was hurled backward, his feet plowing two deep furrows in the ground. Only after retreating a full five steps did he barely regain his balance.
The blood in his chest churned.
Dead silence fell over the courtyard.
The Hashira stared at the scene in disbelief.
Sanemi Shinazugawa ranked among the fastest and strongest of the Nine Hashira.
Even if that strike had relied on brute strength alone, no human could possibly have caught it so casually with two fingers.
Even more terrifying was the force of the recoil.
It was pure physical domination, brutal to the extreme.
The Flame Hashira Kyojuro Rengoku's eyes widened, a fiery gleam flashing in their depths.
He laughed and stepped forward, his voice ringing like a bell as it broke the frozen atmosphere.
"What incredible physical strength!"
"To drive Shinazugawa back with just two fingers-remarkable! What an interesting young man!"
The smile remained on Kyojuro Rengoku's face.
But his right hand had already closed tightly around the sword hilt at his waist.
Searing air rose around him as the Flame Hashira's oppressive presence spread in full, making clear that he recognized Yaha as an extreme danger and was on guard.
If Yaha made another suspicious move, he would draw without hesitation.
A mechanical voice sounded in Yaha's mind right on cue.
"Absolute arrogance and contempt displayed. Roleplay level increased by one percent."
Yaha's smile grew wider.
Savage scarlet completely swallowed his pitch-black eyes.
Fine black cursed markings spread up from beneath his collar, crawling onto his pale neck.
He looked at the tense Hashira around him and found them slightly more interesting than those Lower Rank demons who crumbled with a squeeze.
His fingertips curled slightly.
Invisible, razor-sharp currents intertwined around his fingers.
He prepared to unleash the cursed technique Dismantle, to slice apart the irritating Nichirin Blades before him along with their wielders' pride.
Just then, the sound of a sliding wooden door broke the tense deadlock.
The shoji doors directly ahead slid gently open.
Oyakata-sama, Kagaya Ubuyashiki, slowly emerged from the inner room, supported by his two daughters.
He wore a purple kimono, his face covered in purplish-red curse scars, his body so frail that a gust of wind seemed enough to knock him over.
With his arrival, every trace of killing intent and every breath in the courtyard faltered at once.
The Hashira immediately put away their weapons and dropped to one knee in perfect unison, bowing their heads deeply.
Their manner was profoundly respectful.
Sanemi Shinazugawa gritted his teeth, enduring the searing pain in his hand as he sheathed his Nichirin Blade.
He knelt on one knee, his head bowed low.
Yaha was the only person left standing in the courtyard.
The cursed energy coiling around his fingertips paused slightly.
He turned his head, brazenly scrutinizing the fabled supreme leader of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Kagaya did not order Yaha's arrest.
He gently pushed away his daughters' supporting hands and turned by instinct toward where Yaha stood.
His unfocused eyes, clouded white and blinded by the curse, seemed able to see through flesh and uncover the secrets deep within the soul.
He "looked" at Yaha and spoke in a calm, gentle tone, uttering words that shook everyone present.
"You've finally come."
Kagaya's voice echoed through the silent courtyard.
"The... variable that does not belong to our predetermined fate."
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