The anticipated impact never came. Instead, her waist was cinched tight as she fell into a familiar, cool embrace.
Aoi Kazama snapped her eyes open, locking onto the deep sapphire gaze of Giyu Tomioka.
"Giyu..."
Aoi froze for a heartbeat, and then her eyes instantly welled with tears. Seeing her distress, Giyu gave her shoulder a steadying pat.
"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here."
Urogi, incensed by this sudden display of sentimentality, unleashed a piercing sonic scream from his beak. The sound was sharp enough to puncture eardrums; it sent roof tiles rattling to the ground and made the very air vibrate with raw frequency.
Dizzied by the shockwave, Aoi instinctively clamped her hands over her ears.
As Urogi's screech grew in intensity, a manic grin spread across his face. "Listen! Isn't it a beautiful sound? Why aren't you laughing?!"
Meanwhile, Muichiro Tokito was a blur, darting through the dense forest. I was blown too far away. I have to get back to Tanjiro immediately.
Just then, a child's scream echoed from the path ahead. Muichiro cast a detached glance toward the source.
It was that brat who had refused to give him the key. He was currently being chased by a grotesque fish monster, the small knife in his hand trembling so violently he could barely hold it.
Muichiro's pace faltered. His brow furrowed in a nearly imperceptible twitch.
He didn't want to meddle in "irrelevant" business; the battlefield where Tanjiro was fighting needed his support. However, the child's frantic wails, mingled with the guttural roars of the fish monster, grated against his ears with an irritating persistence.
The child is a low priority for rescue, he rationalized. Based on the aura, that fish monster isn't the demon's main body—it's just a summoned construct. There's no logical reason to stop here. The priority is killing the Upper Moon and protecting the village.
But then, Tanjiro's voice echoed in his mind: "When you act for the sake of others, it eventually comes back to help you too."
Muichiro's feet came to a sudden halt.
What a pain, he thought with an internal click of his tongue, even as his body moved of its own accord.
With the faint whistle of a blade cutting through air, the fish monster was cleaved neatly in half. Foul-smelling ichor sprayed onto the ground, and the creature's mass began to dissolve into wisps of black smoke.
However, despite losing its head, the monster didn't fully vanish.
Kotetsu stood frozen in terror, his knife clattering to the ground with a loud clang. It took a long moment for him to process that he was still alive. Tears and snot smeared across his face as he sobbed out a choked, "Th—thank you!"
Muichiro didn't even look back. He simply dropped a cold remark: "You're in the way. Could you please hurry up and run?"
As Kotetsu scrambled into the nearby bushes, Muichiro turned his full attention to the regenerating fish monster.
Even with its neck severed, the body doesn't crumble. It just regenerates. So, do I have to cut... here? Muichiro's gaze locked onto the porcelain pot sitting atop the monster's head.
He kicked off the ground, leaping gracefully into the air. Dodging a swipe from the monster's tail fin, he twirled his Nichirin Sword in a deft flourish and brought it crashing down directly onto the pot.
With a sharp crack, the porcelain shattered. The dark energy contained within surged out and dissipated into the air like soot. Without its source of power, the fish monster's body began to collapse at a visible rate, melting into a puddle of stinking gore that seeped into the soil.
Muichiro sheathed his sword, looking down at the mess with a slight frown.
It gains power through that pot. As expected, it's a product of a Blood Demon Art.
Kotetsu, seeing the monster was truly gone, lunged forward and hugged Muichiro's leg. He wailed at the top of his lungs, "Thank you! I thought I was a goner! It was so scary!"
"I shouldn't have called you a seaweed-head! I'm sorry!" Kotetsu cried out in a fit of guilt.
Muichiro replied blankly, "Were you talking about me?"
"I'm sorry! I just really hated you before!" Kotetsu crouched on the ground, burying his face in his hands.
"This isn't the time for this. I'm leaving. Do whatever you want with the rest," Muichiro said, turning to walk away.
Kotetsu scrambled to stop him. "Wait! Kanamori-san is being attacked too! And Haganezuka-san is in the middle of polishing a blade—he can't stop no matter what! Please, I beg you, save them!"
Kotetsu dropped into a desperate dogeza, his forehead slamming hard against the gravel. His voice broke with desperation.
Before Muichiro could voice a refusal, a memory of Oyakata-sama flashed through his mind: "Muichiro, you will surely remember. You will remember why you take up the sword, and the meaning of what you protect."
The words felt like a thunderclap, echoing through the fog of his fractured memories.
To protect... Muichiro looked down at the Nichirin Sword in his palm, the blade still stained with the foul ichor of the fish monster.
He thought of the lives stolen by demons. He thought of Tanjiro, exhausting every ounce of his strength to save others.
The refusal died in his throat, replaced by a sigh so faint it was almost inaudible.
He scooped Kotetsu up and began to sprint. The boy, jostled by the sudden speed, clutched at Muichiro's uniform. "It—it's too bumpy! Could you please... go a little slower?"
Muichiro didn't say a word, but his pace didn't slacken for a second. He became a blur in the forest, moving so fast he left only a trailing shadow behind.
The Interlude: Wind and Art
Sanemi Shinazugawa stared at Gyokko, who was busy manifesting more fish monsters. His eyes were wild with lethal intent.
Gyokko hovered in the air, a sneering, sinister grin on his face. His voice was shrill and grating. "Is this the extent of a Wind Hashira's strength? You can't even handle my little parlor tricks, yet you dream of killing me?"
With a flick of his fingers, dozens of fish monsters erupted from his pots. They lunged with gaping maws toward Sanemi, their writhing black silhouettes nearly blotting out his vision.
Sanemi's gaze grew colder by the second. He took a sharp, deep breath, and the wind around him surged violently. His blade, wreathed in a ferocious gale, carved a path of pure destruction through the swarm.
"Wind Breathing, Second Form: Claws-Purifying Wind!"
The strike unleashed a flurry of vertical wind blades that tore through the monsters' ranks like giant talons. Before the monsters could even graze his clothes, they were shredded into pieces, raining stinking blood across the forest floor.
Seeing this, Gyokko immediately summoned another wave of decoys while he himself began to fade into the shadows. He hadn't come here just to duel a Hashira; his goal was to dismantle the Swordsmith Village. Without the smiths, no matter how powerful the slayers were, they would eventually have no way to harm him.
"You bastard!" Sanemi roared. The wind pressure around him spiked, sending gravel swirling into the air. "Thinking of running? I'll carve you into pieces today!"
But Gyokko was fast. Shrouded in black mist, his figure nearly merged with the darkness of the night.
Sanemi watched him slip away, his eyes so bloodshot they looked ready to drip gore. "God damn it!"