It was clear the young man was nervous, just like the other Demon Slayer Corps members kneeling in the courtyard.
At that moment, the Sound Hashira, Tengen Uzui, approached. After his battle with Upper Rank Six, he had lost a hand and retired from the front lines, but in such a critical moment, his presence was indispensable.
Dressed in a white kimono, his long hair, once tied up, now draped over his shoulders, he exuded a certain refined charm.
"No need to worry, Tanjiro. Aside from the Hashira, the rest of the Corps only needs to memorize Yanqing's sword techniques. Even if you can't grasp everything, it's fine—as long as we can piece it together later from everyone's memories."
"But…"
"Tanjiro, don't put too much pressure on yourself. You're not the only one responsible for recording the sword techniques; the entire Demon Slayer Corps is in this together. Trust yourself, and trust your comrades."
Tengen Uzui patted Tanjiro's shoulder. "Also, we'll handle recording Jingliu's swordsmanship, so you don't need to worry about that."
——
["I like your confidence. But 'until the sword's edge is revealed, how can you judge victory or defeat,' right?" Jingliu glanced around. "The abominations here have probably been wiped out by you. Let's move to another spot."]
[The two arrived at a corner of the Artisanship Commission, where a number of monsters still lingered in the distance.]
["Let's start here," Jingliu said coolly. "This place is rife with mara and fiendish aura—perfect for testing swordsmanship. Slaying these creatures doesn't violate the Cloud Knights' code, nor does it count as 'trading official duties,' does it?"]
[Yanqing shot Jingliu a confident glance. "How do we decide the winner?"]
["No enemy must escape along this path. The first to reach the end wins."]
["Deal," Yanqing nodded.]
["You go first."]
[Yanqing didn't refuse Jingliu's courtesy, but as he stepped onto the stairs, he paused, turned back, and teased, "By the way, you're not going to sneak away while I'm not looking, are you, big sister?"]
[Jingliu placed a hand on her hip, her tone icy. "Jing Yuan has truly taught you poorly… all this lip service."]
[On the stairs stood a mara-struck cultivator from the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. Yanqing wielded his flying swords, dispatching it effortlessly. But in that brief moment when he wasn't watching Jingliu, she had vanished.]
["Where'd she go…?"]
[Yanqing hurried forward for quite a distance before spotting Jingliu standing beside a corpse, as if she had been waiting for him for a while.]
Baki World.
"So fast—!" Miyamoto Musashi exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table. "It's not just her movement and speed—her understanding of the mara-struck is extraordinary."
"Oh? How can you tell, Musashi?" Tokugawa asked curiously.
"Look at the wounds," Musashi pointed at the mara-struck corpse at Jingliu's feet. "When Yanqing slays a mara-struck, he relies on a barrage of flying swords. It's agile and swift, but while it's visually impressive, it lacks efficiency in actual combat."
Miyamoto Musashi paused, then continued, "The greater a swordsman's skill, the deeper their understanding of their enemy. They know how to kill with the utmost efficiency, without any wasted movements—like a seasoned butcher who can carve flesh from bone blindfolded. Jingliu has mastered the art of one-strike kills."
"In contrast, Yanqing's mara-struck are riddled with sword wounds from his flying blades, while Jingliu's are pristine, with only a single critical wound—remarkably… precise."
"But the wound on the mara-struck Jingliu killed doesn't seem to be from a sword?" Retsu Kaioh asked curiously. "Isn't she a swordmaster?"
"Heh, are swords and blades such rigid tools?" Miyamoto Musashi smirked. "Do you think one cannot kill without a sword?"
"For a swordmaster of her caliber, the form of the sword no longer matters. In fact… the sword itself is a limitation to her swordsmanship."
"Against such unworthy opponents, she doesn't even need to 'draw her blade,' does she?"
——
["When did you get ahead of me?" Yanqing asked, suddenly tense.]
["You're so slow, little brother," Jingliu's voice carried a hint of disappointment.]
[In the blink of an eye, Jingliu vanished again. By the time Yanqing caught up, two more mara-struck corpses lay beside her.]
["This… how is this possible?" Yanqing was sweating profusely.]
[Jingliu turned her head, her tone now tinged with amusement. "What held you up this time?"]
["Damn it!" Yanqing gritted his teeth, the sound echoing faintly. For the first time, he felt like a mouse being toyed with by a cat, utterly at her mercy. He realized Jingliu wasn't even trying—she was leisurely waiting for him.]
[As if deliberately trying to provoke him.]
["You'd better step it up, or even a starskiff wouldn't help you catch me."]
[Before her words faded, Jingliu's figure vanished again, leaving only her cold, snow-like voice lingering in the air, like fine silver needles piercing Yanqing's heart.]
[Yanqing pressed forward with all his might, but there were no mara-struck left for him along the way—only corpses strewn haphazardly by the roadside and the woman's voice drifting in the wind.]
["It's been a while since I've enjoyed myself this much…"]
"This tone… it feels a bit off, doesn't it?"
The Love Hashira, Mitsuri Kanroji, shivered, starting to worry for Yanqing's safety. "She's not going to go on a killing spree later, is she?"
"That's not even the point!"
Sanemi Shinazugawa slapped his thigh in frustration. "The real issue is that we're almost at the end of this path, and we haven't even seen Jingliu make a move! How are we supposed to learn her swordsmanship?"
Following Yanqing's perspective, his actions were clear as day, but the problem was that, aside from the first mara-struck, none of the other monsters even gave him a chance to act.
Jingliu was like a gust of wind—wherever she passed, mara-struck fell dead. By the time Yanqing arrived, all he saw were corpses and nothing else.
…How are we supposed to learn from this!?
[Yanqing reached the final platform, where only one mara-struck remained alive.]
[Jingliu took a deep breath, as if reluctant to end the moment. "It's been too long since I wielded a sword. I got carried away and nearly stirred the mara within me."]
["Come, little brother. I'll leave the encore to you."]