A moment later.
It wasn't only the dust of the ruins that settled; the whole night sank back into silence.
Kobe Hikaru leaned against a charred pillar. Under the moon that bloodless face was white almost to the point of transparency, and colder than ever.
The other two Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen had shaken off their paralysis and could move again.
The burly one still looked dazed.
The swordswoman glanced at the red-haired young man standing at the centre of the ruins, then at the pale yokai propped against the pillar, then at her captain.
And then, sensibly, she chose to do nothing at all.
Her hand still came to rest warily on the hilt at her hip. Pure reflex.
Rengoku Jinjuro stood between the two of them. He had taken off the crow mask, baring a scarred face with heavy brows and wide eyes, beneath a thick, unruly mane of half-long hair.
The look on his face was complicated. Genuinely complicated.
Kobe Hikaru wasn't looking at him.
He was looking at the sky.
A jet-black crow was dropping down out of the night.
It was a size larger than an ordinary crow, its feathers black and glossy, its eyes gold.
It landed on Rengoku Jinjuro's shoulder, cocked its head to size Kobe Hikaru up, and let a low rumble out of its throat.
A Kasugai crow of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Kobe Hikaru remembered this piece of the setting.
The Kasugai crows were birds the Corps bred specifically for carrying messages — extraordinarily intelligent, able to speak human words, each one paired to a single swordsman. Or rather, each swordsman paired to a single crow.
It was by this means that the Demon Slayer Corps carried word of vengeful Demons out to its swordsmen, scattered as they were across the land.
So that they could run wherever they were needed and cut those Demons down.
Meanwhile, Rengoku Jinjuro spoke a few words to the crow.
Kobe Hikaru didn't move. He knew the man was passing news of him and Tsugikuni Yoriichi back to Demon Slayer Corps headquarters.
The Corps had clearly taken Totosai's letter very seriously.
He was one of the finest demon blade smiths of the age; anyone who knew he existed was bound to give his word weight.
Even the great yokai Sesshomaru did.
The Demon Slayer Corps would hardly be an exception.
Kobe Hikaru's demon eyes narrowed a fraction.
Rengoku Jinjuro lifted his gaze, and even with his message delivered he did not send the crow away — clearly he had more to ask, and meant to get all of it settled in one go.
He turned to Kobe Hikaru. "Sir. Is there anything you wish to say to my lord?"
My lord…
"The Ubuyashiki family, then?"
It sounded like a question. His tone made it a statement.
Rengoku Jinjuro nodded. If this person had ties to Totosai, there was nothing strange about him knowing their lord's name.
And Kobe Hikaru truly did know it.
Even if it hadn't been Totosai who told him.
He knew the Ubuyashiki family.
They were the head family of the Demon Slayer Corps. Their ancestors had once shared blood with Kibutsuji Muzan, and for that they had been dragged into his curse: every child born to the Ubuyashiki, the men in particular, came out frail and sickly, and none of them lived past thirty.
But the Ubuyashiki were also born with a certain gift — foresight, or perhaps more accurately, the ability to see straight through to the essence of things.
From at least several hundred li away, this generation's head already seemed to know what had happened here.
Interesting. A little conversation, then.
He had meant to talk anyway.
Kobe Hikaru straightened, his grey outer robe lifting slightly.
Rengoku Jinjuro drew a deep breath and bowed to him — the full, formal bow of a samurai.
The swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps were swordsmen, yes, but in this age they were samurai as well.
Low-ranking nobles, granted their station by the Ubuyashiki, who stood as their liege lords.
"About what happened earlier — the Corps was out of line, we very nearly drew on you, and I ask your understanding. We tracked that Demon for three days. Four of our members died. When we reached the site and saw you standing in these ruins…"
"Understood."
Kobe Hikaru cut him off.
He walked to the edge of the ruins and looked up at the bank of black cloud he had split open and which had since drifted back together.
It had barely managed to close, and it was far thinner now; the wind was already pulling it apart, letting the moonlight behind it come rising through.
Rengoku Jinjuro followed and stopped at his back.
If they were going to talk, someone had to open the conversation.
Rengoku Jinjuro thought for a moment, then spoke. "Sir. That cut, just now…"
They hadn't arrived yet when Kobe Hikaru cut down the Demon, but as elite swordsmen of the age they could still feel the resonance the strike had left hanging in the air.
It had been a stroke on the order of a natural disaster.
By comparison —
Tsugikuni Yoriichi's sword intent was astonishing, and yet the shock of it fell short of the mere afterglow of Kobe Hikaru's cut.
Then again, Yoriichi had meant only to subdue and overawe, not to wound or kill, so of course he had held his strength back.
Whereas Kobe Hikaru, nowhere near going all out, had still called on both his ultimate technique and his yokai aura.
"I made that cut—"
Kobe Hikaru didn't turn around. "From several li out. Seven li or so, I'd say."
He had half expected the answer, and it still lodged in his throat.
Behind him, the two young Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen stared.
The swordswoman's hand came off her hilt, as though she had let go of her last reservation — or else realized that staying on guard changed nothing.
The burly man only felt the back of his neck start aching again, aching hard enough to make him bare his teeth, though this time he kept quiet.
A Demon cut down from li away, with a single stroke.
What did that even mean?
The three of them had chased that thing for three days, lost four comrades, and never so much as touched a hair on it.
This yokai had stood li away, past mountains, past forest, and reduced the Demon to ash with one swing.
"S-sir…" Rengoku Jinjuro's voice had gone dry. "Just what are you…"
There were no shortage of yokai in this age, but few great yokai were genuinely active, and even the tier below them — the truly formidable ones — were rare on the scale of the whole realm. Creatures like the Thunder Beast or Gakimaru already counted as chieftains, and the Three Great Commanders of the Wilds were chieftains among chieftains.
For all the running about the Corps' members did, most of them had never once crossed paths with a yokai powerful enough to stand beside Kobe Hikaru.
Which made his purpose here a sudden worry.
He might show no ill will, but at the end of the day he was yokai, not human.
He had come carrying the written note of that master, Totosai — so what was it he wanted?
Kobe Hikaru simply turned his head, crimson demon eyes meeting the man's gaze.
"My name is Kobe Hikaru."
He gave his name, and then—
"I came looking for you to make a deal."
Rengoku Jinjuro blinked.
"A deal?"
"Mm."
Kobe Hikaru rested his fingers on Onikiri's hilt. "I have something you want."
His voice wasn't loud, but in the silence of the ruins every word came through clear and bright, like wind off the mountains — faint, and carrying far.
"I have Kibutsuji Muzan's whereabouts."
"And I know how he can be killed."
Three sentences, falling one after the other into place.
Rengoku Jinjuro's breath stopped.
The two young swordsmen behind him went rigid at the same instant, rooted where they stood as though lightning had struck them.
And the crow on his shoulder — the jet-black bird that had sat as still as a stone from beginning to end — snapped its wings open, its gold eyes bulging until they looked ready to drop out of their sockets.
The air congealed.
The night wind stopped.
Even the insect song in the distant hills vanished in that moment.
Kibutsuji Muzan.
The progenitor of the Demons.
Born five hundred years ago in the Heian era, absolute sovereign of every Demon, who called himself a creature infinitely close to perfection.
In the Corps' records he could change appearance, sex and age at will, leaving no trail worth following, and his regeneration was so ferocious that even sliced into scraps and utterly pulverized he would restore himself in a heartbeat.
He also seemed to hold some extraordinary means of returning from death.
Nothing but sunlight could kill him for good.
Not even a great yokai could manage it.
The Demon Slayer Corps had hunted him for five hundred years.
The bones of the swordsmen who had died on that road would pile into a mountain.
And even so, the Corps had rarely pinned down Kibutsuji Muzan's actual location; far more often they were left grappling with the vengeful Demons he had made.
And now a yokai stood in these ruins and spoke that creature's name, and said he knew where he was, and knew how to kill him.
"Sir…"
"He can kill Kibutsuji Muzan."
Kobe Hikaru flicked a glance at Rengoku Jinjuro as he went on, his eyes turning aside.
Barely steadied, Rengoku Jinjuro followed the direction of that gaze.
And saw Tsugikuni Yoriichi, still crouched beside his wife, the young man's long dark-red hair stirring gently in the night wind.
One hand held his wife's; the other lay over the high swell of her belly. Those eyes that could see through anything lifted as well, calm, and looked their way.
In the moonlight, Tsugikuni Yoriichi's face was as quiet as a monk's, listening to the wind.
No killing intent, no will to fight. Even the sword intent that belonged to a swordsman had gone without a trace — only a clear, unclouded stillness reflected in those dark red eyes.
And yet Rengoku Jinjuro remembered the presence the man had shown a moment ago.
In that instant, once more, he seemed to glimpse the power hidden inside that slight-looking body.
The Kasugai crow shivered its wings on his shoulder.
Rengoku Jinjuro drew a deep breath, turned, and bowed low to Kobe Hikaru.
This time it was not etiquette.
It was a plea.
It made no sense whatsoever, and still — Rengoku Jinjuro believed what this yokai gentleman had said.
"Sir…"
"Take me to your lord."
Kobe Hikaru cut him off.
The crimson demon eyes burned startlingly bright in the dark.
"I'll tell him where Muzan is — and what he has to do to kill Muzan."
This was precisely one of the reasons he had gone looking for the Demon Slayer Corps.
The other purpose, besides the Sun Blade.
He hadn't forgotten what the Tsuchigumo said. Hadn't forgotten that the creature was lurking in Kyoto as well, and had very likely fixed its sights on him and Kikyo — or on the Shikon Jewel.
A thief can work at it for a thousand days; nobody can stand guard for a thousand.
He had a feeling, too, that the thing was still hiding somewhere in the shadows of Kyoto right now, spinning its schemes against him and his.
Given the chance, of course he would strike first — and cut that threat off for good!
____
Gift for Everyone: Once we hit 50 Powerstones, I'll release +1 bonus chapter
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)
👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉