Tanjiro sprinted swiftly along the mountainside of Mount Sagiri, heading toward the foot of the mountain.
After over a month of training, his movements had become agile and nimble, darting through the forest like a monkey, completely at ease.
"Whoosh!"
A sudden gust of wind came from his right. Without thinking, Tanjiro ducked and dodged the trap.
A wooden log, thick enough for two people to wrap their arms around, swung violently and slammed into another tree, snapping a hidden string.
"Crack!"
As the string broke, several wooden arrows shot out from the shadows, whistling sharply through the air.
Tanjiro leapt forward, twisting and flipping in midair, narrowly dodging every arrow.
But just as he landed, the ground beneath his feet suddenly gave way, revealing a pit about four meters deep.
As he was about to fall in, Tanjiro managed to grab the edge of the pit, pulling himself out with a burst of strength.
No sooner had he caught his breath than he sensed another danger from above.
A rock the size of a human head was hurled down toward him, carrying both speed and force.
Tanjiro prepared to dodge again, but suddenly felt an ominous premonition, as if someone was scheming against him.
Vaguely, he seemed to see two shadowy figures smiling maliciously at him.
"What's going on?"
In that instant of distraction, his Water Breathing rhythm broke, and he coughed sharply, his body freezing for a moment.
"Damn it, I lost it again..."
The rock was already too close to dodge. Instead of evading, Tanjiro bent his head back and then smashed it forward.
"Bang!"
His forehead collided with the rock, which shattered like tofu.
Cracks spread instantly across the stone like a spiderweb, breaking into countless pieces and scattering behind him.
Meanwhile, Tanjiro's forehead remained completely unscathed, shiny and intact.
He paused to catch his breath, then rubbed his head with lingering fear.
"Luckily, I've got a hard head... otherwise, I'd be hurt."
"Master's training ground full of traps really is relentless."
"But at least I've made it through without injury this time, and fairly quickly too— not bad."
Though he had cleared the trap course unharmed for the first time, Tanjiro wasn't pleased.
Because once again, his breathing technique had broken.
He glanced at the sky, sighing. Ever since he started training under Urokodaki Sakonji, Tanjiro had been pushing himself to the limit.
But his mastery of breathing — the foundation of every swordsman — was still lacking.
Urokodaki used Water Breathing: steady, continuous, balanced, gentle yet firm.
But Tanjiro always felt Water Breathing didn't suit him; his body couldn't quite synchronize with it.
"At this rate, it'll probably take me two years just to master Water Breathing..."
Even if he did master it, there would still be major flaws.
When Urokodaki sparred with him, Tanjiro's wooden practice swords broke countless times...
Urokodaki had once said:
"Tanjiro, your sword techniques are excellent, but your breathing and swordsmanship don't sync properly. That's a fatal weakness. You must find a way to fully master breathing — it's the foundation of everything."
His master's words echoed in his mind. Tanjiro could only sigh, then raise his head with determination:
"If talent isn't enough, I'll make up for it with more training. I must become a strong swordsman!"
After motivating himself, Tanjiro gritted his teeth, inhaled deeply, and resumed running.
Air filled his lungs, circulating through his body, allowing him to continue despite his exhaustion.
He ran toward the foot of the mountain, and soon he could see his master's wooden house in the distance.
Completely drained, Tanjiro longed to rest.
"Wait… why do I smell blood?"
Panic surged through him as dark memories resurfaced — the scene of his slaughtered family still haunted him.
"No... Master's too strong, he and Nezuko will be fine."
He forced away the thought but couldn't shake the unease.
Anxious, Tanjiro pushed his body harder, sprinting at full speed toward the house.
As he neared, the scene before him made his eyes widen in terror.
"No—!!"
In front of the wooden house, where Urokodaki often sparred with him, stood a heavily injured demon.
Its metallic-looking body gleamed, covered in wounds, and its face was obscured by writhing black thorns.
The demon stepped steadily toward Urokodaki, wielding a massive axe that glinted ominously.
The demon's body was coated with thorn sap that overwhelmed Tanjiro's sense of smell, blinding his ability to discern details.
Urokodaki was kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath, struggling but unable to stand.
His Nichirin Blade lay on the ground nearby.
Tanjiro's heart pounded with dread.
Master always said: never let go of your sword. If you're separated from your blade, it means you're facing an opponent too powerful to resist — and death is near.
Seeing Tanjiro, Urokodaki rasped weakly but urgently:
"Tanjiro… run. You can't handle him..."
His voice trembled with urgency, reluctance, and desperation.
He swayed, nearly collapsing.
Behind the black-thorn mask, Kawanishi let out a quiet chuckle.
"You almost had me fooled, Master."
An Oscar-worthy performance.
Kawanishi turned, hands behind his back, exuding an overwhelming pressure as he faced Tanjiro.
"Little brother, don't blame me or your master."
"We need to see how you react when faced with an undefeatable demon."
"Will you run? Or fight with all your might?"
"Your choice will determine our next steps..."
He cleared his throat, lowering his voice into the deep, ominous tone of an anime villain:
"Human..."
"Do you wish to die?"
(End of chapter)