Rokuya followed the flagstone path up the Back Mountain of the Swordsmith Village. His perception was exceptionally keen thanks to his maxed-out spirit attribute, and he soon picked up the sound of an argument deep in the woods.
"Get out of the way, brat. We need this thing for combat training." It was Yuichiro Tokito's voice, full of impatience.
"No! Absolutely not!" A young but anxious voice immediately followed. It was Kotetsu, wearing a Hyottoko Mask. "You'll break it if you use it so roughly! My ancestors poured their hearts into making this!"
"Tokito, please calm down. We can't force him." Tanjiro Kamado's gentle voice tried to settle the dispute.
"Brother, stop wasting words on him. Just use it." Muichiro Tokito's voice remained utterly flat.
Rokuya pushed aside the bushes and stepped into a clearing.
A tall Mechanical Puppet stood in the center of the clearing. It had six arms, each holding a battered wooden sword. Yuichiro and Muichiro stood in front of it, with Yuichiro's hand already resting on his sword hilt. Tanjiro stood with his arms spread in front of Kotetsu, his face full of anxiety.
Yuichiro snorted coldly and abruptly exerted force through his wrist. Gray-white smoke gushed from his scabbard, accompanied by intense heat.
"Smoke Breathing, First Form: Ashen Wolf Smoke!"
A gray-white flash of steel shot straight toward the Mechanical Puppet. Tanjiro cried out in alarm, but it was already too late to stop it.
The slash struck one of the puppet's left arms. With the crack of splintering wood, a piece of wooden armor was sheared clean off its arm and fell onto the grass.
Kotetsu let out a scream, threw himself onto the puppet, and began crying loudly.
Rokuya's gaze turned utterly cold.
"Bullying a puppet that can't move and a little kid.