Creak-
The door of the wooden house swung open, and Sakonji Urokodaki stepped out wearing his Tengu Mask. The old man's steps were as steady as ever, but on closer inspection, his back seemed much straighter than it had half a month ago. The sorrow that had hung around him for years had already faded.
"Rokuya, have you packed everything?" Urokodaki asked in a deep voice.
"Everything, Master." Rokuya stood, straight and tall as a pine. Reaching back, he grasped the enormous object leaning against the porch-a massive cleaver five feet long, with a blade a palm's width across.
It was Shura, a Nichirin Blade personally forged by Haganezuka Hotaru, weighing three hundred jin.
Rokuya lifted it easily with one hand. The effortless movement made Sabito's eyelid twitch beside him. Even a Hashira-level swordsman could never wield a three-hundred-jin solid-steel greatsword so casually with one hand, yet the boy handled it as easily as a twig.
With a low scrape of metal, Rokuya slotted Shura into the specially made refined-steel scabbard on his back. The enormous blade was nearly as tall as he was. From behind, he looked as though he were carrying a black gravestone of death.
"Caw! Caw!"
A harsh, rasping cry rang out overhead. A Kasugai Crow wearing a Demon Slayer Corps scarf broke through the thick fog and landed on a dead branch in the yard.
"Northwest! Northwest! Something is wrong in Mochizuki Village! Multiple travelers missing! Contact with villagers lost! Takanashi Rokuno, investigate immediately! Depart immediately!" The Kasugai Crow flapped its wings as it delivered its orders.
"My very first mission, and it's already so far away..." Rokuya rolled his neck, producing a crisp series of cracks.
He turned toward Sakonji Urokodaki and bowed deeply. "Master, I'm leaving."
"Remember what I told you, Rokuya." Urokodaki's voice sounded especially grave beneath his mask. "Demons are cunning. Don't let their appearances deceive you. And... make sure you come back alive."
"Don't worry, old man." Rokuya straightened, a cold silver gleam flashing through his eyes. "The demon that can kill me hasn't been born yet. Sabito, Makomo, look after Giyu. Don't let anyone bully him."
"Who's going to get bullied?! Just watch out for yourself, you bastard!" Sabito shouted, his face red.
Rokuya waved without looking back and strode into the thick fog descending the mountain. As he walked, he summoned the dark-blue system screen that only he could see.
[Current host: Takanashi Rokuno (Lin Ye)] [Rank: Mizunoto swordsman] [Gratitude Points held: 4,700] [Target equipment: Shadow Battle Axe (price: 5,000 Gratitude Points)]
Just three hundred points short, Rokuya calculated inwardly. The physical penetration and cooldown reduction from the Shadow Battle Axe will improve my combat performance enormously. Especially the five hundred maximum health it adds-that's a lifesaving trump card. Once I get this equipment, even if I encounter a Lower Rank, I'll be able to take it head-on and hack it into pulp!
This mission's objective was to investigate disappearances in a village, which meant civilians were very likely involved.
Saving one life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda. More importantly-a life-saving debt is worth the most. A smile curved Rokuya's lips. In his dictionary, justice was often tied to profit, but that did not stop him from sending every demon that dared stand in his way straight to hell.
Three days later, at dusk.
On the northwestern frontier, amid encircling mountains. The setting sun dyed the clouds along the horizon a glaring blood-red, as though heralding the ill omen to come.
Rokuya followed the rugged mountain path, his leather boots snapping dry branches with a rhythmic crunch. His breathing remained long and steady. Even after traveling for three consecutive days with a three-hundred-jin blade on his back, his face showed no trace of fatigue. Total Concentration Breathing, combined with his physique, which Magic Power was gradually transforming, gave him almost freakish endurance.
"Hey! You, brat up ahead!"
Suddenly, an arrogant voice came from behind.
Rokuya stopped and turned his head slightly. A young man wearing a Demon Slayer Corps uniform was catching up from behind, panting for breath. He was about twenty, with deep-set eyes and undisguised arrogance and impatience in his expression. The character for "Kanoto" was embroidered in white thread on the chest of his uniform.
A Kanoto swordsman-a full three ranks above Rokuya, a newly enlisted Mizunoto.
The young man walked up to Rokuya and sized him up. His gaze finally settled on the outlandishly large black-iron greatsword on Rokuya's back, and he could not help sneering. "Hey, you're new, aren't you? What kind of ridiculous weapon is that? Are you going to the village to work a forge or chop wood?"
Rokuya watched him coldly without speaking. His deep black eyes held no flicker of emotion, as though he were looking at a corpse.
"The name's Tanaka, a Kanoto swordsman!" The young man proudly puffed out his chest and patted the standard Nichirin Blade at his waist. "The higher-ups actually sent a rookie to help me with this Mochizuki Village mission? What a pain. Listen up, brat. Once we get to the village, stay back and watch quietly. Don't cause me trouble. If we run into demons, just hide somewhere far away. I'll cut their heads off myself. As for the credit, I suppose I'll reluctantly let you have a few scraps."
Watching the fool ramble on before him, Rokuya frowned almost imperceptibly.
He knew this type all too well. In the King's Canyon, people like this were usually called "feeding noobs." In the world of Demon Slayer, they had another name-cannon fodder.
"Are you finished?" Rokuya's voice was low and utterly devoid of warmth.
"Huh? What's with your attitude..."
"If you're finished, shut your mouth and get out of my sight." Rokuya stepped forward, and an extremely savage killing intent erupted from him. It was a tangible aura of menace, condensed after slaughtering dozens of demons on Mount Fujikasane!
Tanaka's voice cut off abruptly. It was as though someone had clamped a hand around his throat. His face went deathly pale, and his legs began trembling uncontrollably. In that instant, he felt that what stood before him was not a fourteen-year-old boy, but a primordial beast wearing human skin!
"I-I'm your senior..." Tanaka swallowed and backed away two steps, putting on a fierce front despite his fear.
"You talk too much." Rokuya did not even draw his blade. He merely snorted, turned, and continued walking. "Follow me if you want to die."
Tanaka stood there, gritting his teeth as he stared at Rokuya's retreating back and cursed inwardly. What an act! A rookie who can't even choose a proper Nichirin Blade! When we run into a demon, let's see how you cry and beg me to save you!
Despite those thoughts, he still steeled himself and followed. After all, their orders were to investigate together.
(What do you all think the protagonist should be called when he becomes a Hashira?)
Before you continue