Chapter 8: The Grumpy, Kind Old Man
Ubuyashiki Kagaya's serene gaze drifted between the two young men before him, but while his question was addressed to both, it was truly intended for only one. For a man like Himejima Gyomei, whose innate physical constitution was a force of nature far exceeding that of any ordinary person, Stone Breathing was the only logical, perfect fit.
The true variable was Kanzaki Akira. Aside from the terrifying observational power he had already demonstrated, he had yet to reveal any other extraordinary combat talents. Kagaya had not yet settled on a suitable Breathing Style for the boy.
"As for me," Akira began, his voice clear and decided, "I'll choose Thunder Breathing." It was a conclusion he had reached on the journey here.
Among the five fundamental Breathing Styles, Thunder Breathing was peerless in its speed, especially in terms of instantaneous, explosive power. It was this very quality that Akira coveted. A saying from his past life echoed in his mind: in the world of martial arts, only speed is unbreakable.
also, speed wasn't merely an offensive tool. If one was fast enough, it provided the greatest possible advantage for survival. 'Ah, I've been given a second life,'Akira thought, a quiet, pragmatic resolve settling in his heart.'It's only natural to cherish it. I'm just following my instincts—what's wrong with that?'
Of course, a high-speed Breathing Technique would also synergize perfectly with his unique advantages. His terrifying observational skills manifested in combat as an incredibly powerful form of dynamic vision, a fact he had proven when he helped Gyomei corner the demon. This ability allowed him to perceive everything with crystalline clarity, even while moving or attacking at high velocities. It effectively raised the upper limit of the speed his senses could adapt to. The only limiting factor he would need to address later was his body's physical endurance.
Conversely, only a sufficiently fast method of attack could fully capitalize on his talent. After all, seeing an opponent's opening was utterly useless if his own attack was too slow to strike it.
"Thunder Breathing?" Kagaya mused, his expression thoughtful. "In that case, Kanzaki-kun, you may need to wait a short while. The Demon Slayer Corps' previous Thunder Breathing Cultivator has already stepped down due to his advanced age, finding himself unable to provide proper instruction. His successor is the former Sound Hashira, Kuwajima Jigorō. However, he was injured in the line of duty and retired just last night. He is currently recuperating. Once his recovery is complete, he will formally take over the position of Cultivator."
Kagaya's words left Akira momentarily stunned. He had just seen the faint image of Kuwajima Jigorō flashing past the temple grounds earlier that day. To hear news of his serious injury and retirement so soon was jarring.
Although he had secretly hoped his teacher would be that particular grumpy-looking but kind-hearted old man, he certainly hadn't expected to be assigned to him at the exact moment of his injury-forced retirement.
"That's not a problem," Akira replied, his resolve unshaken. Now that he had made his decision, he was unwilling to change his goal so easily. In any case, staying with the Demon Slayer Corps meant his life was secure for the time being. A small delay was of little consequence.
"Very well, then."
With Akira's choice settled, Kagaya turned his gentle, clouded eyes toward the silent giant beside him. "And you, Himejima-san? Do you have any thoughts? If not, I would recommend you choose Stone Breathing. It will best allow you to use your extraordinary natural gifts."
"Amitabha," Gyomei responded, pressing his large palms together in a gesture of prayer. "If that is your recommendation, then I shall choose Stone Breathing."
"Stone Breathing is exceedingly difficult to master," Kagaya explained patiently. "Only a handful of people have succeeded in the past few centuries, so there is no corresponding Cultivator to guide you. All we have are the training manuals and the personal insights left behind by each user. I will personally read their contents to you, until you have either learned Stone Breathing or decide to give up and switch to another style."
'He's truly putting in the effort to win Gyomei over,' Akira noted silently. There was no bitterness in the thought, only a frank acknowledgment of the facts. Gyomei's raw talent was simply that absurd. Even Akira himself wasn't certain if his future strength could ever surpass the man who, in the future, would swing a spiked flail and axe with the force of a propeller.
It was rare enough for an ordinary person to hold their own against a demon. Gyomei had pinned one down and beaten it for hours until the sun rose. One could say that if he were simply given a properly sized Nichirin Blade, he would be ready to participate in the Final Selection immediately. Akira suspected that even the Hand Demon, a creature whose difficulty far exceeded that of a typical "starter boss," would be no match for Gyomei's raw power.
"Amitabha... Thank you, Oyakata-sama." The offer to be personally tutored by the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps was more than Gyomei could have expected. He was deeply moved, and his pure white eyes, which lacked visible pupils, began to well up with tears.
This congenital condition not only left Gyomei blind but also made him more prone to tears than an ordinary person, a trait that became especially apparent when his emotions surged.
Seeing such a large, imposing man look as though he were on the verge of weeping took even Kagaya by surprise for a moment. He quickly surmised it was a physiological effect of the man's condition and tactfully said nothing more.
"Well then," Kagaya said, his voice regaining its gentle authority. "You have both had a long journey. Please, go and rest. The Kakushi who will guide you to your quarters are already waiting outside."
Hearing this, Akira turned his head and saw two figures standing silently in the courtyard. They were wrapped head to toe in black cloth, their faces obscured by masks that left only their eyes visible. These were the Kakushi, the logistical backbone of the Demon Slayer Corps. Their duties were vast, including but not limited to purchasing supplies, transporting the wounded, cleaning up battlefields, and guiding slayers. Essentially, aside from medical care and the forging of Nichirin Blades, the Kakushi handled all other support matters.
As he prepared to leave, a thought occurred to Akira. "May I go see my future teacher?" he asked, thinking of the medical staff. He would be spending a great deal of time with the man; it couldn't hurt to build a good relationship in advance. Besides, he had nothing else to do.
"Of course," Kagaya replied with a soft smile. "There is no problem."
And so, Gyomei was led away to his new quarters, while Akira was guided toward the Medical Department.
Kagaya stood at the door, watching their backs as they departed. The deep-seated sorrow in his heart eased, if only slightly. Although Akira was still young and would require a long period of training before he could truly join the fight, Gyomei already possessed a formidable foundation. As soon as he learned a Breathing Technique, he would become a powerful swordsman with immense potential for growth. Their arrival was a small but welcome balm for the Corps' desperate shortage of talent.
Though only slightly...
The thought that the Corps' high-end combat power currently rested almost solely on the shoulders of the Flame Hashira was a heavy one, and Kagaya's mood could not truly lift. But he was the Master of the Demon Slayer Corps, their leader. He could never show such negative emotions in front of others.
"It will get better," Ubuyashiki Amane said softly, stepping forward to take her husband's hand.
"Yes," he whispered back.
The two young sisters standing beside them glanced at each other before their gazes, too, followed the departing figures of the two new recruits.
...
At the Demon Slayer Corps' Medical Department, Akira was led by a member of the staff to the door of Kuwajima Jigorō's hospital room.
"Kuwajima-sama," the staff member called out respectfully. "There is a young boy here who claims to be your future disciple. He wishes to visit you. Is now a convenient time?"
Even though Kuwajima had resigned from his position as a Hashira, the members of the Corps still held a heartfelt reverence for him.
Lying on the hospital bed with nothing to do, Kuwajima was startled by the term "future disciple." Curious, he immediately gave his permission for the visitor to enter.
He watched as a small child walked into the room, and his mind went blank for a second. 'The Demon Slayer Corps might be short on people,'he muttered to himself,'but surely not so desperate as to send a child this small to the battlefield?'
While Kuwajima was still dazed, Akira's eyes had already fallen on the folded, bright yellow haori with its distinctive triangle pattern resting next to the bed. He instantly confirmed that this was indeed the man whose figure he had seen at the temple.
"You're the brat claiming to be my 'future disciple'?" Kuwajima's voice was a gruff bark. "How old are you? Do you even know what a swordsman does? Do you have any idea how terrifying demons are?"
Seeing the boy's youth, Kuwajima's first instinct was to try and scare him off with harsh words.
Faced with the old man's deliberately threatening expression, Akira said nothing. He simply looked at him in silence. He couldn't help it; Kuwajima's acting was, to put it mildly, subpar. While his scarred face lent a certain degree of intimidation to the performance, under Akira's piercing observation, the facade was riddled with flaws. Only because he knew the man's intentions were good did Akira manage to suppress the urge to point them out.
Under Akira's calm, almost speechless gaze, Kuwajima found it difficult to maintain his fierce posture.
As his eyes wandered, a flicker of recognition sparked. He suddenly realized the child looked familiar. After a moment's thought, it hit him: this was one of the children from the temple he had arrived at too late.
In that case, the boy really had seen a demon.
At this realization, Kuwajima's expression became even harder to maintain. But he didn't give up on his plan to persuade Akira to quit. "With a small frame like yours," he pressed on, "can you even lift a Nichirin Blade?"
"It should be... no problem," Akira responded after a moment's thought. While his strength wasn't monstrous like Gyomei's, the fact that he could alter a demon's movements just by throwing stones proved he was far from weak.
"Oh?" Kuwajima grunted, a challenge in his voice. He reached over, grabbed his own Nichirin Blade from the bedside, and tossed it, scabbard and all, toward Akira. "Then pick one up and show me!"
He had carefully controlled the force of the throw. The blade was aimed to land just in front of Akira; even if the boy failed to catch it, he wouldn't be hit.
But to his astonishment, Akira reached out with one hand and caught the sheathed sword with startling ease.
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]