The blood in my entire body suddenly went cold. My mind almost completely blank.
When I came to—I was preparing to directly charge out. Fortunately, Gyomei stopped me.
Hearing "Upper Rank One"—his expression also became grave.
"Lord Chihaya, please calm down. Since a Twelve Kizuki appeared—I'll go with you."
I heavily exhaled. Forced myself to relax tense muscles. Turned back, swiftly retrieved my sword. Then departed together with him.
All the way, neither of us spoke. I anxiously rushed forward. Almost full speed sprinting. Gyomei seemed silent—but wasn't left behind.
The night wind very cold. Blew my heated brain calm. But colder fury churned in my heart.
Tsugikuni Michikatsu... Tsugikuni Michikatsu... Kokushibo!
Did he hate Yoriichi so much—even his brother's bloodline must be completely severed?!
Or for his good superior—must completely eliminate any possibility of Sun Breathing reappearing?
Clearly, Yoriichi's descendants had no connection whatsoever to the Demon Slayer Corps!
Also never displayed any talent in swordsmanship!
Yoriichi's wish was just for family to live peaceful, happy lives. For this—whether me or the Demon Slayer Corps—never contacted his descendants.
Those people living peacefully—didn't even know they had such an ancestor. Never heard of Sun Breathing.
Early after Yoriichi passed—Muzan again came out causing havoc.
Perhaps fearing Yoriichi too deeply—he and Kokushibo joined forces. Along the roads Yoriichi walked—found people he knew, one by one, exterminating them completely.
Just to prevent Sun Breathing from ever appearing again.
Learning this, I declared—Yoriichi completely taught Sun Breathing to me. No matter how many people they killed—useless. As long as I wanted—could cultivate plenty of Sun Breathing swordsmen.
Unless they had the ability to kill me too.
Yes. Because I spoke arrogantly—this was also one reason the Ubuyashiki wouldn't let me fight on the frontlines anymore. Feared Muzan would harden his heart, spare no cost to kill me first.
Muzan initially believed it. Also cautiously restrained his actions. Didn't again harm those people connected to Yoriichi.
But later, many years—never again seeing Sun Breathing swordsmen appear—he believed I was bluffing. Never feared again.
Actually, I also wanted to teach Yoriichi's Breathing Style to others... But don't know if Yoriichi's constitution was too special. The Demon Slayer Corps—no one could ever master Sun Breathing. Only researched from it their own new Breathing Styles.
Could only say the sole benefit—taking advantage of Muzan's bound hands and feet during that period, I hid Koe and her family.
Out of hatred for Yoriichi—she was also the person Muzan and Kokushibo most wanted to kill.
This hatred—after four hundred years—seemed not faded in the slightest.
Before Gyomei and I got news—closer Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen already went to help.
But when we rushed to that suburban cottage—only saw severed limbs all over the ground. Blood already congealed into dark red. The bloody smell could be detected ten miles away.
I felt my brain again beginning to throb painfully. Like something couldn't be suppressed—about to explode.
At this time, Daifuku again flew over breathlessly, shouting loudly, "East! East! Rescue!"
Gyomei decisively shouted at me once. Ran toward the east.
I calmed my breathing. Followed his steps. Saw blood traces winding all the way out on the ground. Sparsely scattered on the road. Approaching the mountain base.
The wind carried a dangerous scent. Before approaching—I already saw Kokushibo's figure. He held that long blade covered in eye pupils in hand. Two meters from him—
A childish young girl gripped a sword, facing him.
On her body—already not half a trace belonging to Yoriichi remained. Even her sword-gripping posture—obviously extremely unfamiliar.
But she gripped that unfamiliar blade. Suddenly leaped, actively pouncing toward Kokushibo. The blade edge—in her hands, slashed out a sharp arc.
That moment—I seemed to see an old friend's shadow.
Don't know if Kokushibo had the same feeling as me. He watched the prey actively counterattacking. Actually stood frozen in place, unmoving.
Until the blade carved a wound on his face—he finally moved slightly.
Gyomei heavily stomped the earth. The axe in hand—along the chain's arc, flew out. Directly pointed at Kokushibo's neck.
I borrowed force, leaped up. Sword left its sheath at my waist. Opening move—Thunder Breathing First Form, fastest speed.
Restricted by the killing move behind—Kokushibo could only first let go of the girl before him. Turned to block.
Taking this opportunity—I blocked before that young girl. Hid her behind me.
But she wouldn't let it go. Lifted that blade taken from a swordsman's hand. Fearlessly shouted loudly at Kokushibo, "Monster! Come on! I'm not afraid of you!"
Those bright eyes brimming with fury and tears—made her again raise the blade. Posture even became more skilled.
After Tsugikuni Michikatsu became a demon—his appearance very ugly. Forehead and cheeks respectively grew pairs of eyes. Looked as ferocious as could be.
Perhaps this child reminded him of Yoriichi. Perhaps he believed he lost a good opportunity. Shouldn't continue entangling with us.
He sheathed his sword. Didn't say a word. Retreated several steps backward. Then fled toward the mountains.
But I didn't want to let this opportunity pass. Even if some risk—this Upper Rank One who followed Muzan longest—better eliminated quickly.
Entrusted the rescued child and subsequent matters to Gyomei. I chased Kokushibo's scent. Charged into the deep mountains.
Time already late night. He should be wary of approaching dawn. Kept going toward deeper mountains.
I finally blocked him in a forest.
Kokushibo didn't seem surprised either. Expression already long restored to calm. Drew out his tone, said to me, "You... chased up... seeking death... hm?"
"Who dies today—still uncertain."
In my mind, many scenes repeatedly flashed. Bodies everywhere. Yoriichi's aged face. Takehime's exhausted expression. And Koe bedridden.
She sorrowfully cried toward Yoriichi. Crying sounds kept echoing in my mind.
"Father... Father... If only Koe were a boy... If only Koe were healthy..."
"If Koe could become the heir—could Father return to accompany Koe?"
But Yoriichi couldn't return. He couldn't return. Because he had such a brother!
I couldn't help laughing, asking, "Did that child's sword-gripping appearance remind you of Yoriichi? Very similar to him, right?"
Kokushibo's face showed no expression. But I knew he was angry. Just mentioning Yoriichi—he'd fly into rage.
But he didn't draw his sword to fight me. I was puzzled yet vigilantly observing him. Suddenly heard a voice that made me go cold.
"Kokushibo? What are you still doing here?"
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