Demon Slayer: Dragon Hashira#10+11+12: Lower Rank Six—Kamanue, Requirements to Become a Hashira, The Nine Hashira Gather!

"Kuroha, we've been traveling for two straight days. How much farther to Corps Headquarters??"

"CAW! Almost there! Almost there! Just over the mountain! Over the mountain!" The crow circled overhead, his voice carrying down through the evening air.

"You said that yesterday!" Kaidō called back, exasperation bleeding into his tone. Not that complaining would change anything—when the Master summoned you, you came. Even if it meant hiking halfway across Japan.

...

Night fell like a curtain dropping over a stage.

Kaidō was passing through a small village when the system's voice echoed through his mind, stopping him mid-stride.

[Ding! New Quest Available.]

[Quest: Eliminate Lower Rank Six—Kamanue.]

[Rewards: Permanent Demon Slayer Mark, Enhanced Body Reinforcement Serum x1, Random Interdimensional Energy 5-15%]

[Failure Penalty: -10% Interdimensional Energy]

Wait... WHAT?

"A quest? Right now?" Kaidō's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the village ahead. "Lower Rank Six is here? In this tiny backwater?"

His mind raced through everything Urokodaki had taught him about the Twelve Kizuki. The Upper Ranks were genuine monsters—Hashira-level threats that could slaughter entire squadrons. But the Lower Ranks, while dangerous, were still within reach of skilled swordsmen.

A competent Hashira could kill a Lower Rank demon. The question was whether Kaidō qualified as "competent" yet.

"I've trained for months. Mastered Dragon Breathing. Survived the Final Selection. I can handle a Lower Rank." He paused, reconsidering. "Probably. Maybe. God, I hope so."

But the rewards—

A permanent Demon Slayer Mark. The power-up that turned good swordsmen into legends, amplifying physical abilities to superhuman levels. In the original story, unlocking it meant sacrificing your lifespan—no marked warrior lived past twenty-five.

[System Response: The Mark's side effects have been completely removed. No lifespan reduction will occur.]

"Seriously??" Kaidō nearly shouted aloud before catching himself. "Holy shit, System, you're a lifesaver! Literally!"

System: [(๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧]

The Enhanced Body Reinforcement Serum was nice too, but the real prize was the Interdimensional Energy. Eight percent if he won—bringing his total to twenty-three percent.

But ten percent lost if he failed.

That stung. Interdimensional Energy wasn't easy to come by—it was his ticket home, his one chance to see his family again. This wasn't just a quest. This was a gamble with stakes he couldn't afford to lose.

"No pressure or anything," he muttered, adjusting the greatsword on his back. "Just my entire future riding on one fight."

...

The village was eerily quiet.

Seven, maybe eight houses total—a tiny farming community tucked into the mountains where civilization barely reached. This far from major towns, the population would be sparse. Maybe a dozen people at most.

But something was wrong.

"No lights. No voices. Not even dogs barking." Kaidō's instincts screamed warnings his conscious mind was still processing. "It's nighttime—someone should be awake. There should be something..."

The surrounding forest pressed close, trees swaying in the wind like skeletal fingers. Every rustle of leaves made his hand drift toward his sword. The air itself felt wrong—heavy with an unnamed dread that made his skin crawl.

It reminded him of being watched by a predator. That primal awareness that something dangerous had marked you as prey.

"Kuroha!" He gestured to his crow. "Scout the area. If you spot anything unusual, report back immediately."

"Understood!" The crow took flight, disappearing into the darkness.

Kaidō moved deeper into the village, every sense on high alert.

The further he walked, the more convinced he became that something terrible had happened here. The silence wasn't peaceful—it was the silence of a tomb.

He approached the first house, raising his hand to knock—

The smell hit him like a physical blow.

Blood.

Faint, but unmistakable. The metallic tang of spilled blood mixing with something else. Something rotten.

His right hand closed around the greatsword's handle. "Hello?" His voice carried through the stillness. "Is anyone home? I'm a traveler looking for shelter for the night."

No response.

He tried the door. Unlocked.

The moment he pushed it open, the smell intensified a hundredfold—a wave of copper and decay that nearly made him gag. Moonlight spilled through the doorway, illuminating the scene inside.

Bodies. Or what was left of them.

Limbs scattered across the floor. Blood pooled in the corners, already starting to congeal. The walls were painted with arterial spray. It looked like someone had detonated a bomb made of human beings.

"Oh god..." Kaidō stumbled backward, hand clamped over his mouth. His stomach heaved. For a moment, he thought he'd actually vomit.

He'd known intellectually that demons killed people. He'd seen the Hand Demon's victims during the Final Selection. But this was different. This was a family home—probably parents and children—torn apart and scattered like trash.

He forced himself to breathe through his nose, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. "Get it together. You're a Demon Slayer now. This is the job."

But knowing that didn't make it easier.

After several long seconds, he regained enough composure to check the other houses. Each one told the same story. Massacre. Slaughter. An entire community erased in a single night.

"Bastard," Kaidō whispered, rage replacing nausea. "Whoever did this... they treated human lives like they meant nothing."

Suddenly—

"Hello there, little snack!"

Kaidō spun, greatsword already leaving its sheath. The blade carved through the air in a deadly arc—

His target leapt backward, landing in a crouch several feet away. "Whoa! Close one! You almost tagged me there!"

Now Kaidō could see him clearly.

A demon with a kanji character carved into his left eye: Lower Six. His forehead bore markings resembling the character for "WORK". And in one hand, he casually held a severed human arm, blood still dripping from his mouth.

"Lower Rank Six—Kamanue."

"Oh? Someone actually recognizes me!" The demon's grin widened. "You must be with the Demon Slayer Corps. And such delicate features too... I bet you taste amazing."

"The people in this village." Kaidō's voice was cold, controlled. "You killed them all, didn't you?"

"Every last one!" Kamanue laughed, taking another bite from the arm. "They should be honored, really. Becoming food for one of the Twelve Kizuki? That's a privilege most humans never experience! Their sacrifice makes me stronger—they should thank me!"

Rage burned through Kaidō's veins like molten iron. But he kept it leashed, channeled it into focus rather than letting it control him. This was his first real fight against a Lower Rank demon. If he let anger cloud his judgment, he'd die.

Simple as that.

He lowered the fox mask over his face—the one Urokodaki had given him, marked with a crimson spider lily. Then he raised his greatsword and settled into stance.

"Dragon Breathing, First Form: Dragon's Breath."

Power flooded his body. Muscles enhanced beyond human limits. Reflexes sharpened to superhuman levels. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he launched forward.

"Shit—Blood Demon Art: Tiger Transformation!"

Kamanue's arms warped grotesquely, his hands becoming massive tiger claws. He crossed them defensively—

CLANG!

The impact sent shockwaves through the air. Kamanue skidded backward, furrows carved into the earth by his heels.

"What the hell??" His eyes widened in genuine shock. "You're so small—how are you this strong?? And that speed—"

Kaidō didn't give him time to finish the thought. He pressed the attack, greatsword singing through the night. Every strike carried enough force to shatter bone, every movement precise and deliberate.

Slash!

Both of Kamanue's hands hit the ground, severed cleanly at the wrists.

"AHHH! You bastard!"

The demon retreated, limbs already regenerating. Pain etched across his features despite the supernatural healing. "I'll kill you for that! Blood Demon Art: Monkey Transformation!"

His body contorted again—this time taking on simian characteristics. Longer arms, hunched posture, fingers that could grip with crushing strength. His speed doubled instantly.

The fight became a whirlwind of steel and claws. Kaidō's greatsword clashed against transformed limbs again and again—clang clang clang—each impact reverberating through his bones. Kamanue managed to land several hits, claws raking across Kaidō's arms and shoulders, drawing blood.

But Kaidō didn't slow down. Didn't even flinch. He kept swinging, kept pushing, treating pain like an irrelevant distraction.

"You're strong for a Lower Rank," Kaidō admitted, breathing hard. "But you're making a mistake underestimating me."

"Dragon Breathing, Third Form: Divine Dragon's Tail!"

He pivoted, swinging the greatsword in a massive horizontal arc. The attack expanded outward in a fan-shaped wave of pure cutting force—amplified by the First Form still active in his system, turning an already devastating technique into something apocalyptic.

Kamanue's eyes went wide. "Too big. Can't dodge—"

SLASH!

The wave of energy carved through the demon's torso like butter, bisecting him at the waist. His upper body flew backward, tumbling across the ground before sliding to a stop.

"Impossible..." Blood poured from the wound as his lower half dissolved into ash. "You... you can't be just a regular swordsman! You have to be a Hashira! There's no way—"

Kaidō walked forward, greatsword resting on his shoulder. "You're wrong. I only just joined the Corps a few days ago. I'm about as new as it gets."

"LIAR!" Kamanue's voice cracked with desperation and fury. "This is impossible! I'm one of the Twelve Kizuki! I can't lose to some rookie! You're lying—you have to be lying!"

"Believe what you want." Kaidō raised his blade. "The reason you lost is simple: I'm stronger than you. That's all there is to it."

"No... no, I refuse to accept this! I worked so hard to become a Kizuki! I can't die here! Not like this! NOT LIKE THIS!"

"Goodbye!"

The Greatsword fell.

Kamanue's head rolled across the ground, eyes still wide with disbelief as his body crumbled to ash. His final thoughts were a chaotic mess of rage and incomprehension.

All that effort. All those humans consumed. All that power accumulated—and for what? To die at the hands of a fresh recruit who wasn't even a Hashira yet.

The injustice of it burned worse than the blade that had killed him.

Then nothing.

Kaidō removed his mask, letting it hang from his head as he stared up at the moon. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving exhaustion and a dull ache from his injuries.

"This is just the beginning," he murmured. "The fights are only going to get harder from here. More brutal. More desperate."

He clenched his fist around the sword grip.

"The system helps, but I can't rely on it completely. I need to get stronger on my own. Otherwise, I'll never make it home... I might not even survive long enough to worry about it."

[Ding! Quest Complete!]

[Rewards: Permanent Demon Slayer Mark, Enhanced Body Reinforcement Serum x1, Interdimensional Energy +8%]

[Current Interdimensional Energy: 23%]

[Initiate Demon Slayer Mark fusion?]

"Do it."

[Fusion commencing... Fusion successful!]

Heat blossomed across Kaidō's forehead—not painful, but intense, like someone had pressed a branding iron against his skin for just a moment. When it faded, he reached up instinctively to touch the spot.

He couldn't see it, but he felt it. A mark, etched permanently into his flesh.

A blood-red dragon, coiling in an S-shape from his hairline down to his brow.

"Can't check it now without a mirror, but I'll deal with that later. The Enhanced Serum can wait too—I'm not about to undergo physical reconstruction in the middle of nowhere. Save that for when I'm somewhere safe."

He took a deep breath, savoring the victory.

"Twenty-three percent total Interdimensional Energy. Almost a quarter of the way there." A genuine smile crossed his face. "I'm coming home. Just wait a little longer."

<><><><><><><><>

Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters

"CAW CAW! Mizunoto-rank swordsman Ryūjin Kaidō has slain Lower Rank Six! Minor injuries sustained!"

"Mizunoto Ryūjin Kaidō defeated Lower Rank Six! Minor injuries!"

"RYŪJIN KAIDŌ ELIMINATED LOWER RANK SIX WITH MINOR INJURIES!"

Kuroha circled above Corps Headquarters, broadcasting the news at maximum volume with obvious pride. His human had joined the Corps less than a month ago and already killed a member of the Twelve Kizuki. That was bragging rights for years.

After completing his announcements, the crow changed course and flew directly toward the Ubuyashiki estate.

...

Ubuyashiki Estate

"Is that so?" Kagaya Ubuyashiki's voice carried warmth despite his perpetual illness. "My child has slain a Lower Rank demon. It seems Urokodaki-san's assessment was correct—this boy is truly exceptional."

He turned his blind gaze toward the crow. "How is the child's condition?"

"Minor injuries! Resting at Wisteria House! Minor injuries! Wisteria House recovery!"

"That's fortunate." Kagaya nodded slowly. "For someone so new to the Corps to encounter a Lower Rank and survive—let alone win—is remarkable. Tell him to rest and recover properly. We can arrange a meeting once he's healed."

"Understood!" Kuroha took flight again, wings beating hard as he headed back toward the Wisteria House where his master was recuperating.

...

Earlier—Shortly After the Battle

After decapitating Kamanue, Kaidō had sent Kuroha to summon the nearest Kakushi unit to handle cleanup. He'd waited at the massacre site for about an hour before they arrived.

The Kakushi wore distinctive black uniforms with the kanji for "hidden" emblazoned on the back. They covered themselves from head to toe—only their eyes visible through the face coverings—moving with the practiced efficiency of a specialized cleanup crew.

"Wait—it's you!"

One of the Kakushi stopped dead, voice thick with recognition.

Kaidō squinted at the figure. The voice was familiar... "Are you... Mimura Jiro?"

"You remember me!" Jiro practically vibrated with excitement. "That's amazing! And you're even more amazing—you killed a Lower Rank! I knew it the moment I saw you during the Final Selection. I knew you'd become an incredible swordsman."

His enthusiasm only grew. "Once you report back to Headquarters, you'll definitely be promoted to Hashira! I'll be able to brag about knowing you for the rest of my life!"

Becoming a Hashira required meeting two conditions:

First: mastering Total Concentration Breathing: Constant.

Second: killing fifty demons or eliminating a single Lower Rank demon.

Kaidō had just accomplished both.

"It's way too early to talk about that stuff," Kaidō said with a dismissive wave. "I'll leave the cleanup to you guys. I still need to get to Headquarters and meet the Master."

He glanced around the ruined village one last time. "I already checked the area—no other threats nearby. You should be safe."

Jiro's face heated up behind his mask as Kaidō smiled at him. Thank god for face coverings, or this would be really embarrassing.

Kaidō was male, sure, but those delicate features could easily pass for female. It was doing things to Jiro's brain that he really didn't want to examine too closely.

"Right! I'll handle things here. May fortune favor you in battle!" Jiro spun around and hurried away before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

Kaidō watched him go with mild amusement, then turned and continued his journey.

...

"Kuroha, are you absolutely sure we're going the right way? This doesn't look like the route to Headquarters."

The crow perched on his shoulder ruffled its feathers importantly. "Injured! Wisteria House! Must recover! Wisteria House!"

"Ugh, fine." Kaidō rubbed his temples. "Guess my meeting with Ubuyashiki gets delayed a few days. Hope he doesn't hold it against me."

Following Kuroha's directions, they arrived at a large estate marked with wisteria flower crests. These families had been saved by Demon Slayers in the past and now dedicated themselves to supporting the Corps—planting wisteria trees around their properties and offering free lodging, food, and medical care to any swordsman who needed it.

A teenage girl—maybe fifteen or sixteen—stood waiting at the entrance. "Welcome. Please follow me."

Kuroha took flight again as Kaidō entered, heading back to Headquarters to file his official report.

The girl led him through the estate to a private bathing area. "Please wash up first. I'll prepare a room and meal for you while you bathe."

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Matsuya Misa," she replied with a small bow.

"I'm Ryūjin Kaidō. Thanks for your help, Misa-san."

"You're too kind. Demon Slayers have saved my grandmother and me more than once. If not for them, we wouldn't be alive today. This is the least I can do." She bowed again before departing to make preparations.

Kaidō closed the bathroom door, stripped off his bloodied clothes, and eased himself into the large wooden tub with a groan of relief.

"Perfect timing." He summoned the Enhanced Body Reinforcement Serum from his system inventory, studying the small vial of deep blue liquid. "Let's see what this upgraded version can do."

He downed it in one gulp.

"Ngh—!"

Fire exploded through his veins. His entire body felt like it had been dunked in molten lava—every cell screaming as the serum rewrote his physical structure at the molecular level. He bit down hard on his knuckles to keep from crying out, not wanting to alarm anyone outside.

'Good thing I didn't use this back in that village. Would've been awkward explaining why I was writhing on the ground like an idiot.'

The burning sensation intensified, then slowly began to fade. When it finally stopped, Kaidō noticed something interesting—all his injuries from the fight had completely healed. Not a scratch remained.

"Well, that's convenient. But also problematic." He frowned. "How the hell am I supposed to explain having zero injuries when Kuroha specifically reported I was hurt? Whatever. I'll make something up. Not like it's a big deal."

After about fifteen minutes, the transformation completed. Kaidō flexed his fingers experimentally, feeling the difference immediately.

His strength, speed, reflexes—everything had been amplified significantly.

If I fought Kamanue again right now, I could probably one-shot him.

"Kaidō-sama, I've left clean clothes outside the door. Please let me know when you're finished bathing, and I'll show you to the dining area." Misa's voice carried through the door.

"Got it. Thanks."

...

After dinner, Misa guided him to his room. "You'll be staying here tonight. My grandmother will bring a doctor to examine you shortly. I'll be right next door if you need anything. Oh, and I've had your clothes washed—they should be ready by noon tomorrow."

"I appreciate it."

A short while later, an elderly woman with silver hair arrived with the doctor in tow.

The examination was brief. "No significant injuries detected. He appears to be suffering from exhaustion more than anything else. A good night's rest should restore him completely."

Misa's grandmother saw the doctor out, leaving Kaidō alone with his thoughts.

...

The Next Morning

"Kaidō-sama, breakfast is ready."

"Coming."

After eating, Kaidō headed to the rear courtyard to practice his sword forms. That's when Kuroha returned, landing on his shoulder with a proud flutter.

"Kuroha, where the hell have you been all night?"

"CAW! Reported to Headquarters! Announced Lower Rank kill! Big news!"

"YOU WHAT??" Kaidō slapped his forehead. "You told everyone at Headquarters??"

He'd planned to keep the Lower Rank kill quiet until his official meeting with the Master. Now the whole Corps probably knew.

Which meant the Hashira knew.

Which meant they'd want to meet him.

Which meant dealing with personalities like the Wind Hashira—a man whose default setting was "pissed off" and who only respected strength.

"Great. Just great." Kaidō sighed. "Well, I was going to have to face them eventually. Worst case scenario, I'll just have to fight and prove myself the hard way—"

[Ding! New Quest Available.]

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

[Quest: Defeat Any Three of the Nine Hashira to Prove Your Strength. Progress: 0/3]

[Rewards: Enhanced Mental Reinforcement Serum x1, Custom Demon Slayer Corps Uniform (Enhanced), Random Interdimensional Energy 1-10%]

[Failure Penalty: -5% to -15% Interdimensional Energy (Random)]

"Okay, actually, this works out perfectly." Kaidō reconsidered. "The quest basically forces me to do what I was planning anyway. And if I don't complete it or fail, I lose a chunk of Interdimensional Energy—which is not happening."

He examined the reward details more closely.

"Enhanced Mental Reinforcement Serum is probably similar to the body version—nice. But what's this about a custom uniform? I already have one."

[System Response: This Corps uniform is an enhanced version, including coat, undershirt, pants, and boots. Defensive capability is ten times greater than standard-issue gear. Can partially negate attacks even from Upper Rank demons.]

"Wait, seriously?" Kaidō's eyes widened. "So normal demons and Lower Ranks won't even scratch it, and Upper Ranks will have their damage reduced. That's actually amazing."

He cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Alright then. Time to beat up some Hashira."

...

After lunch, Kaidō changed into his dried clothes, strapped his greatsword across his back, and prepared to depart.

At the estate entrance, Misa's grandmother struck flint stones together in front of him—an old tradition meant to ward off evil and ensure safe travels.

"Thank you both for everything." Kaidō bowed respectfully, then waved goodbye as he started down the road.

"May fortune favor you in battle," Misa and her grandmother called after him, watching until his white hair disappeared from view.

<><><><><><><><>

Following Kuroha's lead, Kaidō spent another full day traveling before finally reaching Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters.

"So this is it." He took in the sprawling compound with a low whistle. "Pretty impressive setup. Though I'm guessing this isn't the actual Headquarters location, right?"

Seeing something in person really was different from watching it play out in an anime.

"Excuse me, are you Ryūjin Kaidō-sama?" A Kakushi member approached, bowing politely. "I've been assigned to escort you to meet the Master."

"That's me. Thanks for the help."

"Not at all. Please, this way."

The Kakushi led him to a horse-drawn carriage. What followed was the most convoluted journey Kaidō had ever experienced—switching escorts multiple times, changing carriages at seemingly random intervals, doubling back on routes they'd already taken. After several hours of this deliberate misdirection, the Kakushi finally spoke again.

"Kaidō-sama, we've arrived."

"Finally." Kaidō stretched as he climbed out of the carriage. Just like in the story—the Corps kept Headquarters' location obsessively secret, and the Ubuyashiki estate was even more hidden. Even the Kakushi only knew fragments of the full route. No wonder Muzan could never find this place.

A white-haired girl waited at the entrance. Kaidō recognized her immediately—Kanata Ubuyashiki.

"Hello. I'm Ryūjin Kaidō. The Master summoned me."

"Welcome. Please follow me." Kanata's smile was polite but emotionless.

She led him through the estate to a courtyard. Small stones covered the ground, with decorative rock formations and a miniature pond arranged throughout the space. Kaidō recognized it instantly—this was where the Hashira had put Tanjiro on trial in the original timeline.

"Please wait here. The Master and the Hashira will arrive shortly." Kanata bowed and departed.

"Got it. Thanks."

...

After a few minutes, someone entered through the courtyard gate. He had striking yellow-and-red hair, sharp eyebrows, and eyes that burned with intensity. A flame-patterned haori draped across his shoulders.

Flame Hashira—Kyojuro Rengoku.

"Young man! So you're the swordsman the Master mentioned—the one who defeated a Lower Rank demon single-handedly? Excellent! I have high expectations for you!" Rengoku's voice boomed across the courtyard.

"Thank you, Rengoku-san." Meeting the real Kyojuro Rengoku made Kaidō's heart pound with excitement.

Another figure entered the courtyard—this one expressionless, features carefully neutral.

"Senpai!"

Water Hashira—Giyu Tomioka.

Giyu was also Urokodaki's student, making him Kaidō's senpai. The stoic young man wore a haori with two different patterns—the left side matching his deceased friend Sabito's clothing, the right side identical to his late sister Tsutako's kimono.

He was the type to say things like "I'm not like the rest of you" to the other Hashira, which made him sound incredibly arrogant. In reality, he just had zero social skills and didn't know how to express himself properly.

When Shinobu had told him the other Hashira disliked him, he'd been genuinely surprised.

"How is Master Urokodaki doing?" Giyu's tone was flat, but there was concern beneath it.

Urokodaki had written to Giyu about his exceptional new student, asking Giyu to look after him at Headquarters. The letter had included a description, so Giyu knew this white-haired young man was his junior.

"Master's doing well. You should visit him sometime."

"Mm."

The next arrival was impossible to miss—everything about him screamed extravagance.

Sound Hashira—Tengen Uzui.

A former shinobi whose headband was studded with jewels, makeup painted elaborately around his eyes, fingernails lacquered in different colors. Despite the flashy appearance, his face was surprisingly handsome beneath all the decoration.

His physique was massive, muscles so dense he could forcibly stop his own heartbeat to slow poison spread.

His catchphrase was "flamboyant," and he called himself the "God of Festivals." He put on an arrogant act, but underneath he was actually pretty easygoing—quick to laugh, with "flamboyant" punctuating nearly every sentence.

"So this is the swordsman the Master mentioned? Joined the Corps less than a month ago and already killed a Lower Rank? What a flamboyant guy!" Tengen laughed heartily.

"Uzui-san is pretty flamboyant himself. Truly worthy of being called the God of Festivals!" Kaidō grinned back.

"Haha! I like you! How about becoming my flamboyant Tsuguko?"

"Thanks for the offer, Uzui-san. I'll think about it."

The next person to enter was female—and as she walked, her chest bounced with every step.

Love Hashira—Mitsuri Kanroji.

Large pale green eyes, perpetually flushed cheeks, and a small beauty mark below each eye. Her hair was styled in three long braids—sakura pink fading to lime green at the tips. She'd dyed it black for matchmaking meetings, but after eating 170 sakura mochi every day for eight months straight, her hair had changed color permanently.

She wore a white haori over her Corps uniform, which had been specially modified by the tailor Maeda Masao—an open-chested design with a short skirt that showed off her legs. Her green-striped stockings were a gift from Snake Hashira Iguro Obanai, who was secretly in love with her.

Cheerful and lively by nature, she blushed easily and tended to sweat when embarrassed.

"Wow, what an adorable child!!" Mitsuri's face immediately turned pink.

"Mitsuri-nee-san."

"NEE-SAN?? She called me nee-san! Ah, I want to hug her so badly!" Mitsuri's internal excitement only made her blush deepen.

"This is the swordsman the Master mentioned? Doesn't look like much to me." The voice came from above—someone had appeared on a tree branch without anyone noticing. Heterochromatic eyes stared down, and a white snake coiled around his neck.

Snake Hashira—Obanai Iguro.

Born with mismatched eyes—right eye gold, left eye green—and bandages wrapped around the lower half of his face. His black hair hung like seaweed down to his shoulders. He wore a striped haori and kept a male white snake named Kaburamaru wrapped around his neck.

Unlike Mitsuri's enormous appetite, Obanai could go three days without food or water. He seemed to harbor feelings for Mitsuri—he'd even given her those striped stockings as a gift. His speech was habitually sarcastic, but he genuinely cared about his comrades.

Like Sanemi, he despised demons and didn't trust outsiders easily. He only fully opened up around the Master and Mitsuri.

His favorite food was kelp strips, his favorite animal was snakes, and his hobbies included senryu poetry, haiku, and watching people make candy sculptures.

Kaidō smiled up at him but didn't respond. He knew Obanai's sharp tongue masked a warm heart.

'What's wrong? Kaburamaru is sensing fear from him... no, more like submission and dominance!' Obanai's thoughts raced.

The Demon Slayer Mark and Dragon Breathing created a natural hierarchy—blood-based suppression that even animals could detect.

Another woman entered, this one wearing a smile that looked painfully fake.

Insect Hashira—Shinobu Kocho.

Black hair with purple tips, purple eyes, hair cut to collarbone length and styled in a nightclub roll. She wore a mint-colored butterfly hairpin with deep purple edges, and her Corps uniform was covered by a haori patterned with butterfly wings—a memento from her late sister, Kanae Kocho.

In her youth, she'd worn her hair short and had been serious and stern. Occasionally she worried about being too short. She dressed conservatively and disliked revealing clothing.

After Kanae's death, Shinobu had worked hard to become as gentle as her sister. But even though she smiled constantly, she was suppressing deep rage toward demons.

She excelled at teaching and nurturing younger members. She and Mitsuri shared similar interests and often exchanged fashionable recipe ideas.

"Oh my, little lady, so you're the one the Master summoned? How cute! And you can stay so calm even surrounded by all these Hashira." Shinobu's smile never wavered.

"Kocho-san, I'm a man."

"Eh?! A man?!" Mitsuri gasped. Her thoughts immediately spiraled. 'He's actually a man?! Oh no, that's so embarrassing—I was thinking about hugging him!'

Her face turned even redder.

"You called Mitsuri 'nee-san' but call me just 'san.' You're drawing some pretty clear lines there! Also, I don't think I ever told you my name. So how do you know all of ours?" Shinobu's smile grew sharper, her eyes dangerous.

"Master Urokodaki told me."

'Sorry, Master. I'm throwing you under the bus here, but I don't have a better excuse!'

...

Back on Mount Sagiri, Urokodaki sneezed suddenly. "Who's talking about me?"

...

"Um, Shinobu... nee-san, could you maybe not stand quite so close?" Shinobu's face was only a few centimeters from Kaidō's. He could smell the wisteria fragrance on her.

"Ah, that's more like it!" She finally stepped back, satisfied.

Three more people entered—one of them towering over the others at well over two meters tall.

Stone Hashira—Gyomei Himejima.

The Corps' eldest member, a monk-styled giant who constantly wept. An extremely long scar crossed his forehead, and both eyes were completely blind. He wore a brown kesa over his Corps uniform, emblazoned with "Namu Amida Butsu."

He was the strongest fighter in the entire Demon Slayer Corps. Just swinging his prayer beads could shake everyone around him, though his Tsuguko Genya Shinazugawa had noted he wasn't great at teaching.

Gentle and calm by nature, he was always crying while chanting sutras, ending most sentences with "Namu Amida Butsu." He showed compassion to everyone but held absolute hatred for demons. His traumatic past had made him unable to trust children, but Tanjiro Kamado would later help him overcome that.

Wind Hashira—Sanemi Shinazugawa.

White spiky hair, three long scars across his face, and countless other scars covering his body. He wore a white haori with the kanji for "kill" emblazoned on it, and usually left his uniform open to display his muscular torso. Together, it represented his mentality: "Kill every single demon."

Volatile temperament—when agitated, his eyes would fill with bloodshot veins. He harbored superhuman hatred toward demons.

His treatment of his younger brother Genya seemed brutal, but it was actually protective—he wanted Genya to quit the Corps so he wouldn't get hurt.

Mist Hashira—Muichiro Tokito.

A black-haired boy with an expressionless face, a prodigy who'd become a Hashira just two months after picking up a sword. He was constantly spacing out and quickly forgot anything he deemed unimportant.

He deeply respected Master Ubuyashiki and would punish anyone who showed the Master disrespect.

According to Upper Rank One Kokushibo, Muichiro was his descendant—a member of the Tsugikuni bloodline.

Amnesia had left him emotionally stunted—silent, cold, and distant. Later, with Tanjiro's help, he'd recover his memories and gradually become more cheerful and friendly. His hobbies were paper cutting and origami. His favorite food was simmered radish with sauce.

Now all nine Hashira had gathered.

"Oi, oi, oi—this guy killed a Lower Rank? Doesn't look like much. Can someone that scrawny even swing a weapon, let alone kill a demon?" Sanemi's tone dripped with contempt.

"Ah, it seems the Corps will soon gain another powerful member. How joyous. Namu Amida Butsu." Gyomei pressed his palms together, tears streaming down his face.

"What was your name again? Whatever, I'll forget it in a minute anyway." Muichiro spoke flatly, then tilted his head to stare at the sky. "What shape is that cloud...?"

At that moment, two young girls' voices rang out in unison:

"THE MASTER HAS ARRIVED!"