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Ting-a-ling~ Ting-a-ling~
To the gentle rhythm of the wind chimes adorning the brims of their hats, two swordsmiths wearing Hyottoko masks came to a stop in front of the cabin door.
One of them was the unmistakable Hotaru Haganezuka, Tanjiro's personal swordsmith, and the supreme embodiment of rage.
True to his nature, he spoke compulsively about the freshly forged sword, entirely absorbed in his own monologue and steamrolling any attempt at a response from Tanjiro.
The other was named Kozo Kanamori, another craftsman marked by a fateful destiny.
He was the same man who had forged Inosuke's swords, subjected to the torture of watching with his own eyes as the boar boy grabbed a rock and smashed his masterpiece to pieces.
But beyond that streak of misfortune, his mastery of steel was beyond question. After all, he would later prove his immense talent by forging the perfect Nichirin sword for the Mist Pillar.
Having a craftsman of that caliber create his own blade filled Marcus with confidence.
After introductions, the five of them gathered inside the hut.
Urokodaki took the main seat at the table. Marcus and Tanjiro settled to his left, with the swordsmiths directly across from them.
Haganezuka, driven by impatience, stepped forward to present his work.
"Kamado Tanjiro, this is your sword."
It was a flawless katana forged from Nichirin steel, sheathed in a scabbard of understated design.
Tanjiro received it with both hands, the deep emotion plain in his eyes. "Th-Thank you!"
"Draw it!" Haganezuka urged. "The Nichirin blade changes color depending on its wielder!"
Taking a deep breath, Tanjiro pulled on the handle.
Swish…
As the blade emerged fully, a whitish gleam lit up the room.
Seconds later, as Tanjiro tightened his grip, a streak of intense black devoured the metal, spreading from the guard all the way to the tip.
And the excitement on Haganezuka's face transformed into pure shock.
"BLACK?!!"
The swordsmith exploded on the spot, letting out a scream capable of waking the entire mountain.
"Why is it black?! A sword I forged with all my care! One I poured my heart and soul into!"
"Why did it turn this coal-black color, so dull and ordinary?! AHHH!"
Tanjiro jumped in fright, barely managing to hold on to the sword with his trembling fingers. "I'm sorry, Mr. Haganezuka! I didn't know this would happen either..."
"Wielders of black swords tend to face paths full of obstacles, but there are always exceptions," Kanamori interjected calmly from the side.
"Perhaps he's special…"
But Haganezuka kept lamenting with his head in his hands. "Special my ass! Black as soot—hideous! I was expecting to see a brilliant red blade!!"
Clearly, his sole obsession lay in the visual impact of his masterpiece.
Meanwhile, Marcus was having the time of his life watching the whole thing, while Tanjiro, his face burning with embarrassment, held the katana searching for some kind of answer in the faces of everyone present.
With a deep sigh, Urokodaki spoke up to explain to his disciple the particular characteristics of dark blades. After offering a few words of encouragement to the young swordsman, he turned his attention to Kanamori.
"And the other one?"
The swordsmith nodded, drawing an elongated bundle from his wooden box.
The package was notably larger than Tanjiro's, revealing a far more imposing silhouette.
Kanamori removed the cloth wrappings layer by layer, moving his hands with absolute care… and as the last cloth slid away, the weapon was revealed.
It was a long, perfectly straight sword.
The scabbard, considerably wider than usual, gave off a rustic, heavy aura. The guard consisted of a smooth oval, notable for its substantial thickness.
"It looks like..." Tanjiro looked at the sword, then at the one Marcus carried at his waist. "It's identical to Makomo."
Marcus said nothing. He took the handle and drew it in one fluid motion.
Swish…
The blade was an exact replica of the Makomo sword. The only difference was that the new blade was slightly thicker and the spine a bit wider.
"I love it." He murmured, running his fingers along the blade.
Hearing this, Kanamori let out a sigh of relief. "To be honest, the credit for this piece is shared… It's the first time our village has ever forged a shape like this."
"A straight blade and a curved one are similar, but when it comes to forging them, they're completely different. Faced with a challenge of this magnitude, I asked the village chief to wield the hammer personally. Following your blueprints and consulting illustrations from ancient texts, we managed to create it."
Haganezuka, his tantrums behind him, approached with curiosity. It was clear Kanamori had kept the project in absolute secrecy. "Straight blade? This shape... Why?"
"I'm used to this type."
"Interesting," Haganezuka crossed his arms. "But if you already have one, why commission another identical one?"
At the question, Tanjiro and Urokodaki also fixed their gazes on Marcus.
Marcus sheathed the new weapon, unhooked the Makomo sword from his waist, and held one handle in each hand, raising them both in front of his chest.
"Nitōryū?" Urokodaki frowned.
"Something like that," Marcus said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The old man's voice turned grave.
"If you're going to learn, do it with total seriousness and dedication. The Nitōryū style goes far beyond swinging two blades around—it demands specialized training and—"
"Master, bear with me," Marcus interrupted with a confident smile. "I know the dual-sword style is extremely complex. But a few days ago, during the Selection... I grasped a new Form."
He paused to contemplate both weapons.
"That technique flows much better using both."
"As for handling, you can rest easy. I've practiced the fundamentals of swordsmanship with deep dedication. The difference between my left hand and my right is just a bit of strength (jerking off), and in terms of flexibility there's no issue at all."
The fencing knowledge granted by the system applied equally to both hands.
Thanks to this, he was able to achieve with his left hand exactly the same precision he reached with his right.
"..."
Urokodaki looked at him in silence for a few seconds.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely sure," Marcus nodded. "Let me try it. If I can't adapt, I'll go back to one."
Since he put it that way, Urokodaki couldn't object further.
"Suit yourself. But remember—the battlefield is not a game. If the Nitōryū style affects your performance—"
"I'll switch immediately," Marcus finished. "I understand."
Haganezuka, watching the scene with obvious amusement, chimed in enthusiastically. "Well, well—time to test the color change. Come on, let me see what color it takes!"
'Please let it turn that same black! That way we'll share the same fate!'
Nodding, Marcus drew the new sword and gripped the handle firmly.
The very next second, the blade reacted. From the guard, a strange pink tone spread outward, quickly covering the entire blade and fusing with the brilliant silver until it stabilized into an intense pinkish purple.
"Pink?" Haganezuka murmured. "What a peculiar color..."
And he turned to Urokodaki with the confidence of an old acquaintance, cutting straight to the chase.
"Sakonji, explain this to me. You've got two disciples learning Water Breathing—one with a black blade, another with a pink blade—and not a single blue one?"
Marcus spoke up before the master could explain. "I didn't learn Water Breathing."
"You didn't?" Haganezuka's curiosity shot through the roof. "Sakonji, do you happen to know another technique? Tell me—what breathing style did you teach your disciple?"
The question deeply irritated Urokodaki, making a vein throb on his forehead.
"That concerns me and me alone."
"Of course it concerns me too." Haganezuka raised his voice, brimming with enthusiasm. "I'm a swordsmith! Knowing the characteristics of the wielder's breathing is a tremendous help in forging. Hurry up and tell me what the hell this pink means—"
"You've delivered the sword, so pack your things and leave," Urokodaki cut him off in a murderous tone. "This mountain doesn't receive visitors."
Haganezuka was stunned. His twisted-mouth mask let out a furious jet of steam. "...Are you kicking me out?"
"Yes."
"But I came all the way from—"
"Leave."
Faced with the obvious death threat emanating from Urokodaki, Haganezuka fell into a prudent silence.
Turning around, he clapped Kanamori on the shoulder. "Let's go—someone wants us gone."
Kanamori hurried to bow his farewell.
The two began their descent down the mountain one behind the other, but halfway down, Haganezuka spun around to shout one last thing.
"Boy! A black sword is still a sword! Wield it with pride! Grip my work tight! And listen well—if you dare break it, I'll kill you."
An enormous drop of sweat slid down Tanjiro's forehead as he answered in a rush. "Yes! Mr. Haganezuka! I'll protect it with my life!"
Off to the side, Marcus rolled his eyes.
Once the swordsmiths' silhouettes had vanished from sight, Urokodaki let out a long sigh and led his pupils back inside the house.
He had managed to keep his secret safe for one more day... at least today he would preserve his dignity intact in front of an old friend.
He turned to Marcus with evident annoyance.
"That new technique of yours—tell me when you're going to show it to me."
Marcus smiled as he settled both weapons on his belt, placing Makomo on the left and the new straight blade on the right. "Whenever you'd like. If you want to see it, we can do it right now—"
"CAWWW!"
A shrill screech from outside interrupted the conversation.
Two crows dove down in a steep descent. One completely black, the other showing grayish tips on its wings.
The black crow landed on the ground and rattled off a string of words at full speed:
"Kamado Tanjiro! Hear the following order."
"Proceed immediately to the town located to the northwest. Several young maidens are disappearing one after another."
"Find the demon hiding in the area and eliminate it!"
"Kamado Tanjiro, exercise extreme caution!"
"This is your first official mission as a Demon Slayer!"
"The crow... talked...?"
Tanjiro could barely process that avalanche of information, completely dazed. "My... my first mission."
On the other side, the gray-tipped crow chose the windowsill as its perch.
It remained silent for a few moments, preening its feathers with absolute leisure, then fixed its dark eyes on Marcus.
"...?"
Marcus watched it with pure intrigue.
The bird gave a small hop to turn its back to him and, pointing its tail at the young man, gazed toward the horizon to deliver a few words dripping with cold haughtiness.
"Asakusa City. There are rumors of a demon on the prowl. Marcus, handle the matter."
Having delivered its message, it spread its wings and took flight.
"..."
Marcus completely ignored the messenger's pretentious, aloof attitude, because the moment he heard the name of that city, his entire body turned to stone.
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The tutorial is over, the swords are here, and Marcus is heading to Asakusa! We all know who is waiting for him there... What do you think he's going to do? Drop your predictions in the comments! And before you leave... DROP YOUR POWER STONES RIGHT HERE!
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