Early the next morning, James arrived at the rendezvous point as instructed by Kage.
From a distance, he spotted Tanjiro waiting as well, his deep red hair glowing in the morning sunlight.
"Hey, Tanjiro! Are you going to the Swordsmith Village too?"
Tanjiro's face lit up the moment he saw James, waving enthusiastically.
"James! I'm so glad to see you. If you're with me, Mr. Kotetsuka might actually be willing to talk to me."
Tanjiro had once again broken the sword made by Kotetsuka. Normally, Nichirin Blades are tailored to support one Breathing Style. Unless specially forged, frequently switching between different styles can cause serious wear and tear.
During his last battle, Tanjiro had alternated between Water Breathing and Hinokami Kagura. Though it was out of necessity, it severely damaged his blade.
After sending the sword back for repairs, Kotetsuka sent a chilling message:
"Don't even think about getting another blade from me..."
The handwriting was wild, fierce—and terrifying.
"I can only hope for the best," Tanjiro muttered.
James glanced at Tanjiro's glum expression and couldn't help but smirk.
"Serves you right."
At that moment, a Kakushi approached them. "Please wear these, my lords."
He handed them earplugs and blindfolds.
Without any further explanation, James and Tanjiro were lifted onto the backs of the Kakushi and carried away.
Even though his vision and hearing were blocked, James wasn't particularly concerned. He could feel the wind against his skin and gauge the direction of movement easily.
He no longer knew exactly how strong he was. Judging by his real combat ability, he was far beyond an average First-Rank warrior—but still a step below the terrifying power of the Second Rank.
He had once watched a fight between Second-Rank warriors online.
The battlefield was reduced to ruins.
Not just a few blocks—but several kilometers of destruction.
While First-Rank warriors could level a neighborhood, Second-Ranks could raze entire streets to ashes.
Left unchecked, a Second-Rank warrior could easily obliterate a small city.
And then there were Transcendentals. If one of those beings went wild, they could wipe out entire cities given enough time.
In the Kingdom of Sakura, every major city was governed by a Transcendental of at least Third Rank. The capital was protected by even higher-ranked individuals.
To manage such threats, the Alliance had established special agencies dedicated to handling cases involving superhumans. That's why such disasters rarely happened.
James lived in Tianshui County, a region roughly the size of Tokyo from his previous life. Its jurisdiction extended deep into the countryside.
His parents had once lived in that rural area, enjoying a simple, quiet life. Later, they moved to the county's urban center, bringing James and his sister, Mochizuki, with them. James ended up transferring to a below-average elementary school in the city.
But their city life didn't last long.
Their parents died in an accident not long after the move.
James and Mochizuki were left alone.
Some relatives came forward, offering to adopt them—but it quickly became clear most were only interested in the inheritance and the family home.
James flatly refused.
He threw himself into his studies, eventually earning a place at the best junior high school in Tianshui County—an elite academy filled with students from wealthy corporations and prestigious superhuman families.
Thanks to that achievement, he and Mochizuki were allowed to live on their own. Normally, minors were required to have legal guardians—unless they were considered superhuman.
Although James wasn't officially ranked, he was an A-class student, a top performer in the Third Rank. Not long after enrolling, the Tianshui government recognized him as a Transcendental.
There was a clear method to determine whether someone was a superhuman or not.
Only those capable of generating spiritual power within themselves were considered superhuman.
Spiritual power was the most basic requirement for admission to elite Class A junior high schools in Tianshui.
Generally, Class A students were trained in combat and supernatural arts, while Class B students focused on academics and science. The simplest distinction: martial vs. intellectual.
Why the division? Perhaps the significance of spiritual power was far greater than James could yet imagine.
Superhumans who lacked spiritual power had no choice but to rely on brute strength. While this could make them formidable, it also greatly shortened their lifespan.
In layman's terms: superpowers are the car, and spiritual power is the fuel.
Class B students, on the other hand, advanced science and technology. The destructive force of modern weapons was terrifying.
Even a Third-Rank warrior couldn't be certain they'd survive a high-yield nuclear blast. And there were even more devastating weapons beyond that—energy weapons capable of vaporizing entire regions.
This world was fascinating… but those concerns could wait.
Right now, James needed to focus on the Demon Slayer world.
Once he returned to reality, he planned to study everything thoroughly. Memories were too abstract—he needed firsthand experience.
While deep in thought, James noticed the Kakushi switching positions. Multiple people had taken turns carrying them.
The Swordsmith Village was extremely well-hidden. The path there was so secretive that even the person responsible for one stretch of the journey had no knowledge of the next section.
It was a relay system, designed to ensure the village's location was never compromised.
A wise strategy, very much like the one used for the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters.
It was even said that Ubuyashiki Kagaya himself didn't live at headquarters, but in an even more secluded location. He only visited the headquarters when absolutely necessary.
That constant vigilance was the reason the Demon Slayer Corps had survived wave after wave of destruction throughout history.
Stay cautious. Stay alive.
James exhaled and allowed himself to relax. Maybe this trip could be a much-needed break.
He lost track of how many crows and escorts had changed throughout the journey.
Finally—
"We've arrived. You may remove your blindfolds now."
The Kakushi gently placed James on his feet and removed the earplugs from his ears.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a small archway ahead. There was no sign that said "Swordsmith Village" on it.
Of course. No one would be foolish enough to advertise it like that.
Instead, two rows of stately buildings lined the path ahead. Most appeared to be blacksmith shops on the ground floor, with living quarters above them.
James took a deep breath.
"…Is that a hot spring nearby?" Tanjiro asked, sniffing the air curiously.
That nose of his was better than a bloodhound's.
"Yes," the Kakushi replied with a slight bow. "You may both relax in the hot springs after your visit."
With that, he left.
A man from the village appeared and led James and Tanjiro deeper into the village, toward the village chief.
They were escorted into a tea room, where several people were already seated.
At the center sat a very short old man wearing a flaming mask.
"I am the chief of the Swordsmith Village," he declared proudly. "I may be the shortest here, but I hold the highest authority."
The man was clearly eccentric.
After some brief discussion, the village chief grumbled about Kotetsuka's inability to forge durable weapons and promised to track him down for a scolding.
Shortly afterward, Kotetsuka himself appeared, holding a sheathed sword in both hands.
"Master James," he said, respectfully presenting the weapon. "Your sword has been forged according to your specifications."
James took the weapon and immediately felt warmth radiate from the hilt. His energy flowed smoothly into the blade—it was clearly well-attuned to him.
He drew the sword slowly.
The dark blade shimmered in the light, and as his energy filled it, its color began to shift to a radiant white. A faint glow illuminated the corridor.
Compared to ordinary Nichirin Blades, this one was longer. The tip was not curved like a traditional katana but cut diagonally into a sharp point.
The blade's back was about one-fifth the width of a pinky finger—straight and sturdy, with no curve at all.
If someone from his past life were here, they would've immediately recognized it:
A Tang Hengdao.
"A beautiful blade," James murmured, examining its craftsmanship with genuine admiration.
Kotetsuka beamed with pride at James's satisfaction.
Tanjiro, meanwhile, stood off to the side, looking deeply envious, his face twisted with jealousy.
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
pàtreøn (Gk31)