Bonds are the most powerful fuel for the soul.
Ichiei and the other Pillars had already proven this point perfectly to Oboro.
He had seen many people suffering throughout the day, yet none of their wills had met his standards. The reason was simple—they all lacked a core principle to anchor and sustain their resolve.
But for Sawakaze, that core was right here, in the form of this dead little dog.
Once a person like this accepted a new set of values and worldview, and clearly defined their ultimate goal... they would carry out their mission with absolute dedication and unwavering loyalty.
Moreover, Sawakaze possessed an outstanding soul. In his current physical state, an ordinary person would have long since lost consciousness and never woken up again.
Oboro had deliberately called out to him, testing whether his attachment to his dog was strong enough to pull him back from the darkness. If the boy had remained unconscious, Oboro would have simply turned and left.
But in the end... Sawakaze had passed the test.
He had become Oboro's very first chosen successor.
"The one who is wrong... is this world..." he whispered, repeating Oboro's words over and over.
The dull light in his eyes gradually gathered and sharpened, becoming resolute and unyielding.
"Please... save us," he pleaded, looking up at the man before him.
"If you wish to change this world and purge its twisted corruption, you must be prepared to shoulder a heavy burden," Oboro warned, two cards appearing in his hand. "Everything you do, every action you take, will be viewed as evil by the world. You will be despised, condemned, and cursed by all. You must be ready for that reality."
"As long as I know that what I am doing is right... that is all that matters," Sawakaze replied firmly. "They are the ones who are sick... They simply do not understand. I am never wrong. Never."
"The world is the one at fault."
"Excellent," Oboro nodded in approval.
The cards in his hands dissolved, transforming into two pieces of dark, scarlet flesh that reeked of rot and malice.
"Remember exactly what you have just said... From this moment onward, every ounce of pain you endure will be for the sake of creating a better world."
With those words, Oboro cupped Sawakaze's face in his hands and, with quick, rough movements, forced the entire chunk of flesh belonging to Lower Rank One straight into the boy's mouth.
Sawakaze's cheeks bulged grotesquely. The skin of his neck stretched tight as the massive piece of flesh was pushed down his throat, twisting his face into a mask of agony. His body convulsed violently, trembling uncontrollably.
The sheer size of the flesh blocked his airway, making it impossible to breathe for a moment. His eyes rolled back into his head, and saliva dribbled uncontrollably from his lips.
Yet, against all odds, he managed to swallow it.
The strength of this boy's will was truly extraordinary.
Thump.
Oboro released his grip and withdrew his hand, letting Sawakaze's head fall heavily back against the ground. Agonized cries immediately began to tear from the boy's throat.
It was important to remember that not everyone could successfully transform into a demon. The vast majority of people who ingested demon flesh simply ended up exploding and dying in agony.
But Oboro was certain... for this boy, it would work.
Next, he pried open the dead dog's jaws and fed the other piece of flesh deep into its body, guiding the energy within to begin breaking down and merging with the creature.
Compared to humans, a dog's mind was much simpler, and its soul was far more fragile. Although it had been dead for some time, its spirit had not yet completely faded away.
As long as Oboro used his power over souls to give it a gentle push, combined with the potent energy of demon blood, it was still possible to reverse death itself.
If he had waited any longer, however, it would have been too late to save it.
AAAAAAHHHH!
AAAAAAHHHHH!
From the dark and shadowed alleyway, terrifying screams began to echo out—raw, guttural howls that sounded less human and more like a wild beast in its death throes.
Sawakaze was the first to undergo the change.
As for the little dog, it took a little while longer before its body finally began to twitch and shift.
Passing down a legacy of will was all about continuity... Under normal circumstances, such a will needed to be supported by a corresponding power system, just like the Breathing Styles used by the Demon Slayers.
Logically speaking, now that Sawakaze had inherited his will, Oboro should have also provided him with suitable techniques or abilities to go along with it.
But for the time being, he decided not to.
In truth, he didn't necessarily have to turn his successors into demons at all. He possessed countless methods and powerful arts he could teach them, allowing those abilities to evolve and be refined over generations.
The main reason he had chosen to use the power of demons was simply because the world of Demon Slayer was too simple—there were essentially only two opposing factions: the Demon Slayers and the Demons. And the only way to force the entire system of power to constantly improve and evolve was through conflict.
Just as he had given the Demon Slayers the breathing method... the Demons needed a "supply drop" of their own.
However, Muzan Kibutsuji would definitely not be pleased to see this happen. Muzan had always strictly controlled the number of demons in existence. If their numbers grew too large, or if too many variables were introduced, his position as the undisputed Demon King would be in serious jeopardy.
Worse still... the natural suppression and authority that came with Muzan's bloodline would be significantly weakened!
Oboro bit the tip of his finger until it bled, then let several drops of his own essence fall directly into Sawakaze's open mouth.
He did the same for the dog.
Then, slowly, Oboro stood up.
He turned his back and walked away, leaving the boy and the dog behind to face their transformation alone.
"My... Lord... may I know your name?"
Just as Oboro was about to leave with his handmaidens, a voice called out from behind him, breathless but filled with deep reverence.
Oboro did not answer. He simply continued walking, vanishing into the darkness of the night.
Sawakaze, whose appearance was already undergoing obvious demonic changes, watched him go with a look of disappointment.
Yet, he felt no joy or excitement at having obtained such great power. He understood clearly that the strength he now possessed was a tool—a weapon meant to cure the sickness plaguing the world.
He had a mission to fulfill.
"Our Lord's name is... Oboro," a cold voice spoke up.
Sawakaze looked up to see a woman with an icy expression approaching, the sound of her wooden sandals clicking rhythmically against the ground. It was Chiyoko, one of Oboro's attendants.
"You are forbidden from revealing anything about Lord Oboro to anyone... not until you have achieved your ultimate goal," she warned sternly.
"I understand," Sawakaze replied humbly. Even towards just a servant of Oboro, he showed nothing but respect.
"There are many people in this world just like you—people who need to be saved," Chiyoko continued, repeating the exact words Oboro had instructed her to say.
"Your vision will be incredibly difficult to realize. You may fail, or die halfway through your journey. But remember... everything you do is for the sake of those who are not yet sick, those who still possess clarity of mind and heart. It is not just for yourself."
She gave him a meaningful look, then turned and walked away.
"Aramaru... did you hear that?" Sawakaze murmured softly, looking down with gentle eyes at his beloved dog, who was now standing on its own four legs once more.
Woof.
The little dog looked extremely unsettling. Its fur had turned a dark, bloody crimson. Whether it was an effect of becoming a demon or not, the blood it had been covered in before seemed to have fused with its fur, continuously dripping onto the ground in thick streams—endless, as if it would never dry or stop flowing.
"Let's go," Sawakaze said, his eyes instantly turning cold and merciless.
He led his dog, Aramaru, out onto the main street.
"Tch."
"Where did this filthy brat come from?"
"Get lost! Standing there like that, do you think you're not an eyesore?"
"Disgusting! How filthy!"
As soon as they appeared, the people nearby reacted with undisguised revulsion. Some cursed at him, while others looked at him with disdain and contempt.
Sawakaze remained perfectly calm as he observed the same scenes he had witnessed every single day since he was a child...
He saw samurai of supposed high status bullying and beating honest, defenseless residents—some even drawing their swords with obvious killing intent.
He saw ruffians and thugs humiliating women and children...
Some people laughed cruelly, while others wept in despair...
But far more common were those who simply looked away, indifferent and cold-hearted.
They were all so used to it that they didn't even care anymore.
"They are all sick..." Sawakaze whispered.
In the next instant, Aramaru's body suddenly began to expand and swell rapidly. From a small dog barely a meter long, it grew in seconds until it was as large as a small house. Rows of razor-sharp fangs jutted out from its gaping jaws, dripping with thick saliva...
Its body was like a mass of bulging muscle covered in coarse hair, resembling a massive, festering boil. Blood sprayed from its pores in powerful gushes, even more violent than before.
"AHHH!"
The sudden, terrifying transformation shocked the onlookers out of their wits.
Screams erupted everywhere at once.
Panic spread instantly as people scrambled to run for their lives.
"Why run... you filth who have tainted this world?" Sawakaze tilted his head slightly. His bangs shifted, revealing a pair of eerie, blood-red irises glowing in the dark.
Slowly, a cruel smile stretched across his face.
"Just die..."
"The new world has no place for you."
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