After that day, James found himself busier than ever.
His daily routine had become finely tuned—almost militaristic in its efficiency. Mornings were spent sparring and exchanging sword techniques with Kanroji Mitsuri, often while indulging in sweet desserts she insisted on sharing. Afternoons were dedicated to studying and experimenting with various breathing styles alongside swordsmen who had returned from missions. Later in the day, he delved into the study of poisons and medicines under the careful guidance of Kochou Shinobu. And by nightfall, James would retreat to his training quarters, reflect on everything he had learned, and continue practicing until fatigue claimed him.
The days were long, but fulfilling. And more importantly, he could see his progress. Not just in the way he moved or breathed—but on the status panel that accompanied him. The steady tick of numbers, the filling of bars, the shift in evaluations—it all reinforced that he was growing stronger, day by day.
"Mr. James," Kochou Shinobu said one afternoon, her gentle voice breaking the quiet hum of the sunlight-filled room, "if nothing unexpected happens, the remaining Pillars should return within the next few days."
Sunlight streamed through the tall window, casting a warm glow over the wooden floor. Shadows danced behind Shinobu as she crushed herbs in a mortar, her movements elegant and measured.
James looked up from a scroll he had been studying. "Really? I've been looking forward to meeting them for some time."
Shinobu smiled faintly, setting aside the crushed remnants of the herbs. "Yes, I can tell. You've been quite... enthusiastic."
James raised an eyebrow at her tone. "That sounded dangerously close to sarcasm."
Her lips curled upward with an almost mischievous smile. "Oh no, not at all. I was merely acknowledging that Kamiya-kun is someone who gets bored easily."
He chuckled softly. Their relationship had grown more comfortable over the past week. At first, there had been some formality between them, but after several shared lessons—and a few sharp-tongued jokes—they had grown used to each other's rhythms.
"By the way," she continued, brushing off her hands and turning to face him, "if you're planning to visit the other Pillars, I should tell you where to find them. The Rock Pillar trains behind the main hill. The Wind and Snake Pillars live not far from your residence—perhaps you can go with Mitsuri next time. As for the Water Pillar, Tomioka Giyuu, he resides on the west side of the village. You'll have to pass by the Lord's mansion to reach him."
She paused, then added, "Tokitou Muichirou is quite... introverted. He spends most of his time on missions, so you'll probably only meet him at the next Pillar meeting."
James nodded in thanks, taking mental note of their locations.
Shinobu's voice dropped slightly. "Mr. Himejima has incredible perception when it comes to emotions. Mr. Shinazugawa may appear rough and easily angered, but he's actually a kind person. Mr. Tomioka... well, his personality is quite unique."
She smiled faintly—though there was a note of exasperation behind it.
James smirked. Giyuu, are you the black sheep of the Pillars or what?
Then her expression changed. Her smile faded slightly, and her eyes grew distant.
"Mr. Rengoku was a truly kind person," she said softly.
James immediately felt the shift in atmosphere. Though she remained calm outwardly, he could sense a heaviness in her voice. There was a fire inside her, not the kind that offered warmth—but the kind that threatened to consume. A deep-rooted hatred smoldered quietly behind her gentle words.
Shinobu had dedicated her life to medicine and healing, but she carried within her a rage fueled by loss. It was the same quiet fury James had seen in others who had faced unimaginable grief. He didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
No words were needed.
When the time came to eliminate Kibutsuji Muzan, that lingering shadow over the Demon Slayer Corps would vanish. James had no doubt.
---
A few days later, James was about to step outside when someone knocked on the door.
He opened it to find a rather peculiar figure standing in front of him—a man wearing a comically stern fireman-style mask, completely expressionless. It looked almost as though he had walked out of a festival booth.
James blinked. Swordsmith?
The man bowed deeply. "Lord James, I apologize for the intrusion. I am Gangtetsu Wen, a swordsmith from the Swordsmith Village. The base model of your customized Nichirin Blades is complete. I came to confirm a few final details before forging the weapon to completion."
He opened a small notebook, revealing detailed sketches and notes.
James ushered him inside. The two of them sat and discussed the blade's specifications—its weight, curve, balance, grip texture, and enhancements for high-temperature resilience. Time flew by, and before either of them realized it, the sun was already high in the sky.
"I'll travel to the village soon to retrieve the blade in person," James said, standing up and seeing him to the door.
Gangtetsu Wen bowed again, satisfied. "Understood, Lord James. I will begin preparations immediately."
Once the swordsmith left, James blinked.
Wait—why did I come outside again?
A moment later, he remembered.
"Right. I was going to visit Shinazugawa and Iguro today."
---
He first made his way to Kanroji Mitsuri's residence. She came bounding out the front door, a happy smile on her face and a crumb of mochi stuck to her finger.
"Ah! James! You're here!" she exclaimed, quickly brushing off her hands.
The two walked together, heading toward Shinazugawa's training grounds.
As they walked, Mitsuri spoke thoughtfully.
"I heard from Shinobu that many of us have sad pasts. She herself went through so much… It's heartbreaking."
James nodded quietly.
Sad past? Mitsuri, your biggest heartbreak is that men rejected you for being too strong and eating too much mochi. You're basically the happiest person in the Demon Slayer Corps.
He didn't say it out loud, of course.
Along the way, they exchanged thoughts on swordsmanship, breathing techniques, and philosophies of battle. Though James hadn't been visiting her as frequently in recent days—he had already mastered most of what Mitsuri could offer—he still held a soft spot for her lively personality.
When she developed new insights, he planned to return.
But for now, his destination was the Wind Pillar's courtyard.
They knocked on the gate, and it was Iguro Obanai, the Snake Pillar, who opened it.
He froze the moment he saw Mitsuri.
His posture stiffened, his face hidden partially behind bandages. He stared at her in silence, as though caught off guard by her presence.
James raised an eyebrow. Well, this is convenient. Two Pillars in one visit.
A loud, irritated voice came from inside. "Who the hell is it now?!"
Shinazugawa Sanemi, the Wind Pillar, stepped into view, irritation clear on his face.
After a brief explanation, the four Pillars gathered in the courtyard. When James suggested exchanging swordsmanship techniques, both Iguro and Sanemi immediately perked up.
It was obvious that Iguro was slightly jealous of James's camaraderie with Mitsuri, though he tried not to show it.
Sanemi, however, didn't hide his eagerness.
"I've been hearing a lot about you," he said, cracking his neck with a wicked grin. "Even that flashy bastard Uzui can't stop talking. I wanna see what the fuss is about."
James calmly stepped forward and drew his katana. His custom Nichirin Blade wasn't ready yet, so he used a standard weapon for now.
Sanemi drew his greenish-blue Nichirin Blade, its surface reflecting the harsh sunlight. Without warning, he vanished from view.
James narrowed his eyes.
Wind Breathing. Unlike what the name suggests, it's not about speed—it's about raw force, slashing pressure, and destructive waves.
Sanemi reappeared in front of him mid-swing, both hands bringing his sword down in a horizontal arc.
James didn't even flinch.
Clang!
The clash echoed like thunder. Dust burst into the air. Sanemi's strike had been blocked—by one hand. James's blade remained steady, unmoved.
Sanemi's eyes narrowed.
He leapt backward, gritted his teeth, and activated another form. This time, the blade shimmered with emerald currents, each slash filled with enhanced cutting force and turbulence.
The green winds whipped through the courtyard like blades of their own.
But James moved with fluid grace. Each block, each parry—effortless. The sound of steel clashing with steel filled the air, a rhythmic symphony of combat.
"Damn," Sanemi muttered between attacks, panting lightly. "You've got some serious skill."
Iguro watched from the sidelines, eyes narrowing.
So this is the strength that even Shinobu acknowledges.
Mitsuri beamed with pride.
And James? He was just getting started.
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
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