"You finally appeared, Sesshomaru," Totosai said, bobbing his head as he sat comfortably on the Three-Eyed Ox's back. "Not an inheritance from your father, but your own sword-Bakusaiga!"
"My own sword, Bakusaiga..." Sesshomaru glanced at Totosai, who had suddenly appeared beside him, then lowered his gaze to the incomparably sharp new blade in his hand. Yellow-green light flowed around it-the sword pressure inherent in every renowned blade.
"Let me have a look at your Bakusaiga." Totosai tucked both hands into his sleeves, remaining perfectly still.
Sesshomaru raised the sword in his hand, but did not hand it to Totosai. Totosai took no offense.
"You always had a sword of your own, right here in your heart," Totosai said with satisfaction. "But to take it into your hands, you needed to become a great demon capable of standing on your own."
In Totosai's round eyes was the affection an elder held for the younger generation, though it was so deeply concealed that no one could discern it.
"You have severed your obsession with Tessaiga, your father's legacy, and passed the trial your sword set for you. Now, naturally, you can draw it forth and wield it. This is the proof that you have surpassed your father and freed yourself from your fixation on Tessaiga..."
Is that so? My obsession with Tessaiga was the trial...
Father, did you know this all along...?
"Sesshomaru." Totosai looked at him solemnly. "This sword has a power all its own." Just as Tenseiga excelled at healing and Tessaiga at absorbing power, a sword born of its master's resolve to break through every obstacle before him would naturally possess a power that answered his will. In other words...
"Hm, it suppresses continuous regeneration and self-repair..." Sesshomaru looked at the Demon Tree's remains, which writhed on the ground,