Sakonji Urokodaki left Mount Sagiri, his Nichirin Sword wrapped in cloth as he walked along the road.
Ever since the "Mark" had awakened, even without entering the marked state, he could still feel his life slowly draining away.
He quietly sensed this constant loss of vitality, carefully memorizing every detail of it. Not long after descending the mountain, a Kakushi arrived with a carriage.
After getting in, Urokodaki took out pen and paper and began silently writing down the signs of his fading life.
The carriage moved steadily along the road. The Kakushi driving it occasionally glanced back at the old man, his eyes filled with respect.
"Sir, the fastest way to reach the Rengoku family estate is by train. It will take about half an hour to get to the station. I've also prepared your ticket…"
The Kakushi spoke in a low voice.
"Mm."
Urokodaki nodded, quietly reflecting on how much the times had changed.
Half an hour later—
After getting off the carriage, several Demon Slayer swordsmen hurried over.
"Okazaki Hideki greets Urokodaki-senpai!"
"Hoshino Shogo greets Urokodaki-senpai!"
…
The swordsmen were visibly excited. As members of the Demon Slayer Corps, they had all heard of Urokodaki's achievements. None of them expected that the retired master who had lived in seclusion on Mount Sagiri would return—and even less that they would have the chance to meet him in person.
"Hoshino Shogo… I remember you..."
Urokodaki's gaze fell on the middle-aged man standing at the front. A hint of nostalgia appeared in his voice.
"It must have been over ten years ago. Back then, you were just a boy."
Being called out by name, Hoshino Shogo straightened his back almost instinctively.
"Yes, sir. I once hunted demons under your guidance. That was my very first mission."
"In the blink of an eye… so many years have passed." Urokodaki sighed softly. Then his eyes moved to the young boys and girls standing behind Hoshino—faces still full of youth.
They had likely only just stepped onto the path of demon slaying.
"I'm leading them on missions now…" Hoshino explained.
"I didn't expect you to become a senior yourself," Urokodaki said casually. "I remember there was a chubby boy who was always smiling, the one who was with you back then. I don't see him—where is he?"
"…Koji is dead."
Hoshino lowered his head, his voice heavy.
"He died protecting me."
Urokodaki fell silent. A quiet sigh escaped him, and beneath the tengu mask, his eyes dimmed slightly.
This was the life of a demon slayer.
A path soaked in blood, where no one knew which battle against demons would be their last. The further one walked down this road, the lonelier it became.
Just like him.
The companions he once knew were either gone from their injuries or had fallen in battle. Only a few days ago, one of his last old friends—Shinjuro Rengoku—had died at the hands of an Upper Rank Three demon.
Now, it seemed that among those from the past, only he remained.
…Well, Uzui Tengen still counted as one. And that hot-tempered old man from Momoyama, Jigoro Kuwajima, as well.
"Urokodaki-senpai, you should be able to board the train by evening," Hoshino Shogo said.
Perhaps demon slayers had long grown used to losing comrades. Hoshino soon began talking about his own life.
He mentioned that he had gotten married three years ago, and now had a child. He planned to hunt demons for a few more years, then retire completely and spend his days with his family.
Hearing this, Urokodaki couldn't help but smile, sincerely wishing him well.
Seeing how gentle Urokodaki was, the younger swordsmen—boys and girls—stepped forward and began asking him all kinds of questions. Patiently, he answered each one.
...
Time passed without anyone noticing.
Soon, the sun set, and darkness covered the land. The sky turned into a vast black curtain, scattered with countless stars.
Guided by one of the swordsmen, Urokodaki boarded the train.
Not long after he took a seat by the window, the train slowly began to move.
Through the train window, Urokodaki watched the scenery rush past in a blur. In that moment, he couldn't help but sigh. Compared to a carriage, the train was far faster—and far more comfortable.
Times were changing.
Just like the arrival of firearms—warriors who had trained for years could be defeated by a single shot from someone with no training at all. What the future would become… no one could say.
After watching the view for a while, Urokodaki intended to close his eyes and rest. But then, a familiar scent reached his nose.
So—
He stood up from his seat and followed the scent, walking through one train carriage after another.
When he reached the final carriage—
Unlike the noisy carriages before, this one was eerily quiet. Everyone inside lay still, deeply asleep.
Under the dim light, the sound of chewing echoed faintly.
A trace of coldness appeared in the old man's eyes beneath the tengu mask. His hand gently rested on the hilt of his Nichirin Sword.
He walked forward in silence.
Soon, he saw it—
At one of the seats, a demon had pinned a human beneath it, tearing into them and devouring them without pause.
Sensing his presence, the demon lifted its head.
It had a delicate, almost gentle-looking face. On its cheeks were three large yellow squares and three smaller yellow squares. Its black hair fell to its shoulders, with reddish ends and a faint blue-green tint at the tips. It wore a long black coat and striped white pants.
In its eyes, the characters "Lower One" were clearly etched.
Even though Urokodaki had seen demons devour humans many times, he still couldn't fully grow used to it.
But now—at the end of his life—to encounter one of the Twelve Kizuki…
A faint sense of satisfaction rose within him.
"A Hashira…?"
The moment Enmu saw the haori on Urokodaki, his pupils shrank slightly. Without hesitation, he raised his hand.
"Blood Demon Art: Whisper of Forced Sleep."
At that moment, a mouth formed on the back of Enmu's hand. Facing Urokodaki, it uttered a soft, low whisper:
"Sleep…"
An invisible ripple spread through the entire carriage, dragging Urokodaki into a dream.
…
Mount Sagiri, forever wrapped in mist.
At some unknown moment, Urokodaki found himself there.
He stepped forward—and soon saw them.
His students.
Sabito. Makomo…
Those who had long since passed were there, laughing and playing together.
When they noticed him, they stood up at once.
"Urokodaki-sensei is here…!"
They ran toward him, pulling him over to sit by a campfire. Their faces were filled with joy, their laughter warm and bright.
Everything…
Was truly beautiful.
The old man slowly closed his eyes. At the corners, tears had already begun to form.
But soon—
He opened them again.
The entire scene vanished before him.
What remained was the silent train carriage—and the body of a man who had only just died.
"A powerful Blood Demon Art," Urokodaki said calmly, looking at Enmu. His voice was steady, like a drop of water falling into a still surface.
"It forces its target into sleep… and traps them in dreams."
He paused.
"But… this ends here."
"A life of evil… should come to an end."