"This kid's fighting style is even more demonic than a demon's." Rokuya crouched on a boulder, watching the fierce battle below with relish. He could see countless openings in Sanemi's moves; he was fighting entirely by trading his life for his opponent's. Yet the madness etched into his bones and his extreme hatred of demons gave Wind Breathing unimaginable destructive power.
Meanwhile, in another patch of woods not far from the gravel bank, an entirely different scene was unfolding.
"Flame Breathing, Second Form-Rising Scorching Sun!"
Accompanied by a voice as resonant as a great bell, a blazing ring of flame surged up from the ground. A boy with long hair streaked in fiery red and bright yellow, his eyes like burning torches, split a massive demon diving at him from overhead in two with one slash. Flames instantly engulfed the demon's remains, illuminating the dark woods.
Kyojuro Rengoku.
"Umu! So these are the demons of the Final Selection? They certainly are fiercer than the ones outside! But as long as there's fire in my heart, I'll never back down!" Kyojuro spoke loudly to himself, his voice so loud that even Rokuya, several hundred meters away, could hear every word.
"One mad dog and one loudspeaker. Still... they really are first-rate talents." Rokuya rubbed his chin. He could clearly sense that the quality of this year's swordsmen was absurdly high. Whether it was the three little ones he had trained, Shinobu, or Sanemi and Kyojuro before him, they all already possessed qualities far beyond those of ordinary swordsmen.
"Looks like this will be the strongest golden generation in the Demon Slayer Corps' history. With them around, at least I won't have to worry about small fry bothering me when I cut down Muzan."
Rokuya stood up and rolled his neck, producing