Deep within the mountain gorge, the deafening roar of the waterfall shattered the forest's original tranquility.
Three full days had passed since Ubuyashiki Kagaya's rebirth and his order to assemble everyone.
In those three days, this once secluded and perilous canyon had been forcefully transformed by the Kakushi into a living hell that made one uneasy at a glance.
"Run! You useless lot who can't even fill your stomachs! If those rolling logs behind you catch up, you'll end up with broken limbs!"
Uzui Tengen stood atop a jutting rock, a thick bamboo stick in hand, shouting down at the Demon Slayer Corps members sprinting along the muddy mountain path below.
Among the crowd, Agatsuma Zenitsu rolled his eyes and let out a shrill scream.
"I'm going to die! I'm definitely going to be crushed into a meat patty! Why does the first stage of basic training involve being chased by spiked rolling logs?! Uzui San, YOU INSANE SHOW-OFF!"
Despite shouting louder than anyone else, Zenitsu's pace was anything but slow. His Thunder Breathing gave him an exceptional instinct for fleeing at full speed.
Kamado Tanjiro, carrying heavy stones on his back, gritted his teeth as he ran at the front of the group, every breath releasing scorching air.
Hashibira Inosuke charged forward like a tireless beast, even taking the time to ram his head into tree trunks along the way to vent his excess energy.
According to the assembly-line training plan devised by Rin,
Every swordsman participating in the intensive training first had to endure physical exhaustion under the Sound Hashira. After that, they would move on to the Love Hashira for hellish flexibility training that tore and rebuilt their ligaments, followed by the Mist Hashira and Serpent Hashira to refine their sword precision and footwork.
Only those who survived these first four stages of torment were qualified to enter the deepest part of the canyon and face the final live-combat assessment.
...
At this moment, on the flat rocky ground in the canyon's deepest area,
The air was thick with the pungent smell of sweat and the metallic scent of mud.
The Water Hashira, Tomioka Giyu, the Wind Hashira, Shinazugawa Sanemi, and the Stone Hashira, Himejima Gyomei—the three widely recognized as the strongest among the Demon Slayer Corps—were all breathing heavily, their uniforms soaked through with sweat and dust.
A dozen steps away, facing them,
Rin sat cross-legged on a flat slab of bluestone, resting his chin on one hand.
At his feet lay a wooden sword still in its sheath, and his black high-collared uniform remained perfectly neat, without a single crease.
"Too slow."
Rin's cold voice broke the brief stalemate.
"Do you know what your biggest problem is right now?"
He lifted his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the three who stood ready in formation.
"It's because you know very well that I won't kill you. Even if you make a mistake or break a bone, I can heal you with Yang Release. Because of that, when you swing your blades, you lack the desperation that comes from facing death."
Shinazugawa Sanemi gritted his teeth, the veins on the back of his hand bulging as he tightened his grip on the wooden sword.
He couldn't deny it.
Over the past few days of sparring, no matter how seamlessly they coordinated, Rin would always dismantle their attacks with the simplest movements and precise predictions. Each time they were knocked down, Rin would heal them with that strange green light, only for them to be beaten down again.
Training without the threat of death could not push their bodies to their true limits.
"Without the fear of death, your heart rate will never exceed two hundred, and your body temperature will never reach thirty-nine degrees."
Rin rose to his feet and picked up the wooden sword beside him.
"Since you can't force yourselves into that state… I'll do it for you."
Hum~!
The nature of the chakra within Rin shifted in an instant.
A profound, cold, destructive Yin Release energy spread from his body.
At that moment, even the sky seemed to dim.
Opposite him, Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tomioka Giyu, and Himejima Gyomei all felt their pupils shrink to pinpoints.
In their perception, the Rin who had been standing there vanished.
In his place stood a monstrous presence, like something that had crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. The suffocating killing intent condensed into invisible hands that clamped tightly around their throats.
The air grew heavy, as if it had thickened. The oxygen in their lungs seemed to be drained away in an instant.
"Listen carefully."
Rin held the wooden sword as he stepped forward, his boots crunching crisply against the gravel.
"For the next five minutes, I will hunt you as if you were real demons. Every strike will be lethal. I will not hold back."
"If you can't block it, or if you fail to awaken the Demon Slayer Mark before I cut off your heads…"
A chilling smile spread across his lips.
"Then you'll truly die here. Yang Release cannot bring back the dead."
The moment his words fell—Bang!
The ground beneath Rin's feet shattered, and his figure became a streak of black lightning, instantly crossing the dozen-meter distance to appear directly before Shinazugawa Sanemi.
The wooden sword whistled sharply through the air, slashing toward Sanemi's carotid artery at an impossibly tricky angle.
So fast!
Alarms blared in Sanemi's mind. The speed and force of this strike were on an entirely different level from their previous sparring sessions.
This attack was meant to kill.
"Wind Breathing, Second Form: Claws-Purifying Wind!"
At the brink of life and death, Sanemi roared like a cornered beast.
Instead of retreating, he gripped his wooden sword with both hands and unleashed four sharp green wind blades from below, aiming to meet Rin's strike head-on.
But Rin's wooden sword halted in midair with uncanny precision. His wrist flicked, narrowly avoiding the strongest point of impact. The blade slid along the spine of Sanemi's sword, and in the next instant, the hilt slammed heavily into Sanemi's chest.
Crack.
The sound of two ribs breaking rang out clearly.
"Ack-!"
Sanemi spat out a mouthful of blood as his body was sent flying backward, completely out of control.
"Namu Amida Butsu!"
Just as Rin was about to press the attack, a heavy whistling sound tore through the air. The Stone Hashira, Himejima Gyomei, charged in from the side, swinging his massive flail and axe.
Though they were using wooden weapons for training, the giant wooden ball carved from dense ironwood in Himejima's hands still carried enough force to crush a person into pulp.
"Stone Breathing, Third Form: Stone Skin!"
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