Genya had already done very well.
Those words left Genya standing there, crestfallen. Even his Rooster Comb Hair seemed to droop limply.
He had worked so hard for so long, yet he still couldn't compare to Swordsmen who could use a Breathing Style. Never mind someone like Kanao-he felt that even Tanjiro had left him far behind.
Was... was he really going to give up killing demons? Give up standing alongside his brother, his teacher, and Tanjiro? Give up roaring out the hatred and dreams in his heart?
The gentler Miss Shinobu's voice became, the more dejected Genya felt.
When she taught him medicine, she was so short-tempered. Yet the more she snapped at him, the more reassured he felt. This gentleness, on the other hand, made it hard to breathe.
Was it because... this was a realm beyond his reach?
Was that why Miss Shinobu was being so gentle?
Haruto watched Genya closely, taking in his dejection.
The boy was stubborn. He said nothing and kept training alongside Tanjiro.
Half a month after Shinobu Kocho and Kanao left, Tanjiro's grueling training bore fruit.
Keen eyesight...
Tanjiro kept turning those words over in his mind. Keen senses... my sense of smell is just as keen.
If sight can reveal a target's weaknesses, then smell, another of the five senses, should be able to do the same.
Once Tanjiro truly realized that his sense of smell could help him in battle, "threads" guided by scent naturally appeared before his eyes.
Those threads connected his blade to his opponent's weaknesses, tracing out their flaws and openings.
The instant a thread pulled taut, he swung his blade. By the time he came to his senses, all that remained before him were two smooth faces of split stone.
"I... I did it."
He plopped