Chapter 68: Departure for Gunma
After introducing Shinobu, the Storm Hashira turned back to Natsuya, officially presenting him to her.
"Lady Kocho, I am not entirely sure what misunderstanding exists between you and Natsuya," Igarashi's voice was steady and soothing. "However, his strength is beyond question."
"If a situation arises during combat that I cannot personally address, he is the one I trust to ensure your safety. If Natsuya was rude to you earlier... I will make sure to discipline him properly once the mission is over."
Shinobu's small mouth opened as if to retort, but she swallowed her words. What could she say? Could she explain that Kanae-nee-san clearly cared for him, yet he hadn't replied to a single letter? Or that she had caught him hugging another woman the moment she stepped off the train? Or his incredibly blunt "Who the hell are you"?
Seeing Shinobu's silence, Igarashi knelt so that his eyes were level with hers. He offered a warm, friendly smile.
"Natsuya is a bit of a blockhead, I'll admit. He spends his days either staring into space or speaking with the bluntness of a street thug. Even when people treat him with kindness, he is often too dense to understand the sentiment. If he were among my old social circles in the city, every single one of my friends would probably find him unbearable."
Shinobu felt a sudden twinge of awkwardness. Sure, he was rude, and I don't like him... but is Lord Igarashi being a bit too harsh on his own Junior?
Beside them, Natsuya stood with a flat expression: ( ° _ ° )?
Senior, I'm standing right here. I can hear everything.
Igarashi completely ignored Natsuya's look and gently ruffled Shinobu's hair. Her purple strands were unexpectedly coarse despite looking soft, but Igarashi didn't mind. Once the girl shyly looked away, he continued.
"However, despite those flaws... Natsuya is an exceptional swordsman. He is resilient, decisive, and never wavers before a demon. In fact, his resolve to hunt them down is stronger than almost any swordsman I know."
"Case in point: right now."
"Right now?" Shinobu asked, confused.
"Yes. Look at him." Igarashi gestured toward Natsuya. "The moment he heard the words 'Twelve Kizuki,' he didn't feel a shred of fear. Instead, he became even more eager to jump into the fray. So, Lady Kocho, can you set aside your personal grievances for a moment and acknowledge his heart as a Slayer?"
Natsuya: My Senior really knows how to manipulate children. He's got 'Charisma' stats for days.
Sure enough, Shinobu hesitated. She stole a glance at Natsuya. His face is handsome enough, and his body is clearly well-built... he does look like a high-tier Slayer.
"Since Lord Igarashi puts it that way," she grumbled reluctantly, "I'll trust you to watch my back for now, Sir Kokonoe Natsuya."
Then, she ducked her head, nimbly sliding out from under Igarashi's palm. "Also, Lord Igarashi! I am not a child!"
Honestly, Shinobu thought, whether it's Mr. Igarashi or Mr. Gyomei, why do they always treat me like a toddler? I'm a fully functional Slayer!
Natsuya looked at Igarashi. "Senior, is it really okay? She looks twelve, max."
Igarashi shook his head, his gentle smile remaining, though a sharp glint flickered in his eyes. "Natsuya, your Senior Brother is one of the Nine Hashira."
The Hashira.
The highest rank in the Corps, far above the Kinoe. They were the Pillars—the pinnacle of centuries of Breathing Style legacies. They held the power to command and the responsibility to protect.
But more than the rank, there was the core meaning of the word: The Strongest.
Throughout history, the seats of the Hashira were often vacant due to constant casualties. Vacancy represented a threshold—a level of power that ordinary swordsmen simply couldn't reach. Sacrifice represented the reality that they performed missions far more lethal than any standard patrol.
Regardless, the Hashira were monsters. Whether it was veterans like Shinjuro Rengoku or Takizuki Fujinomiya, or the younger prodigies like Gyomei Himejima and the late Fudo Hino—and even the relatively young Igarashi himself—they possessed power that crushed standard logic.
A Lower Moon? I've killed them before.
If we meet one again, I'll just kill it again.
If it's an Upper Moon? If I lose my nerve before the sword even crosses, I have no business being a Hashira or a Slayer.
Natsuya understood the weight behind the words. His "Cheap Senior" wasn't just a polite scholar. Deep in his marrow, he held the pride and spirit of a predator.
Natsuya scanned him again.
[Igarashi Uzen (Power Level: 361)] — Storm Breathing LV.6, Wind Breathing...
In terms of raw stats and skill count, he's basically two Master Kazamis stacked on top of each other. And his Power Level has ticked up since we first met. This guy never stops grinding either.
"Understood, Senior," Natsuya replied. Since you're the carry, I'll just play support.
Igarashi's lips curled into a slight smirk. He picked up his long, elegant Nichirin Sword. "Pack your gear. We depart immediately."
And so, a bizarre three-person squad was formed. In the lead was the refined, composed Arashibashira. In the middle was Natsuya, draped in strange gear and already entering his "Auto-Pilot" mode. Bringing up the rear was Shinobu, who spent most of the trek shooting suspicious, scrutinizing glares at Natsuya's back.
The distance from Yokohama to Gunma was significant. If they tried to walk the nearly 200 kilometers of mountain trails and ancient roads, the missing Rank 2 Slayer would be long dead and buried.
Naturally, they took an emergency steam train arranged by the Kakushi. Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was thick.
Natsuya leaned against the window, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the passing scenery. To an outsider, he looked deep in thought. To the game engine, he was "Skipping the Travel Cutscene."
Shinobu sat opposite him. At eleven, she already possessed the calm, poised air of a miniature adult. A heavy tome on pharmacology was spread across her lap, but she kept stealing glances at the two men across from her.
Igarashi, for once, wasn't reading. His gaze was fixed on the platform of a small town they were passing through. A few children were chasing a ball, their laughter echoing faintly through the glass. The sight seemed to trigger a memory.
"Lord Igarashi? Lord Igarashi?!"
Shinobu's voice snapped him back. "You didn't hear my question, did you?"
"My apologies, Lady Kocho. I was lost in thought for a moment."
Shinobu tilted her head with childish curiosity. "You seemed... very focused on that town. Does it mean something to you?"
She had noticed the difference. Natsuya looked "dead" when he stared out the window (pure AFK energy), but Igarashi's expression had been full of genuine nostalgia.
The Hashira adjusted his glasses. A faint, melancholic smile touched his lips. "I was just... remembering the past."
Shinobu straightened up, eager for lore. Most Slayers knew almost nothing about the private lives of the Hashira.
Igarashi sighed, preparing a polite deflection, when Natsuya suddenly "woke up."
Natsuya whipped his head around, looking dead serious. "Tell us the story, Aizen-senpai. I brought snacks."
Shinobu: 💢(#▼皿▼)
Why do you only stop spacing out when it's time to gossip, you womanizer?!
Natsuya: The travel skip just ended and the 'Backstory Event' started. Why would I skip the lore?
Igarashi let out a soft laugh. If his Junior was that interested, there was no harm in sharing.
"The Igarashi family actually started in a small town just like that one," his voice was calm, as if telling a story about someone else. "It was only later that we made a name for ourselves in the Yokohama merchant circles..."
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