The two of them sparred for a long while...
The icy mist in the courtyard gradually dissipated, and shattered ice crystals littered the ground.
Doma folded his fans and looked at the seven-year-old boy before him—panting heavily, yet with ferocious eyes—his face filled with uncontrollable delight.
Although that Wintry Garden, Drooping Snow had used less than ten percent of his strength, it was still the Blood Demon Art of Upper Rank Two.
For ordinary humans, even inhaling that freezing air would instantly destroy their lungs—forget about counterattacking.
Yet Inosuke hadn't just survived. He'd acted like a bandit, snatching the cold away and turning it into his own power.
"Inosuke, fans may be useful, but in the end, they're not proper killing weapons."
Doma turned and walked deeper into the covered corridor, his voice drifting lightly behind him.
"Since you've learned how to steal my ice, it's time I gave you a real weapon.
Come with me. Go pick one you like from the armory."
Inosuke wiped the sweat from his brow, tucked the pair of imitation refined-metal fans into his waist, and followed Doma in just a few quick steps.
The weapon vault of the Eternal Paradise Faith was stacked full of trophies Doma had collected over two centuries.
Among them were many Nichirin Blades left behind by fallen Demon Slayer swordsmen—some already rusted, others still gleaming with a cold, lethal sheen.
"How about this one?"
Doma casually pulled a mirror-polished Nichirin Blade from the rack and tossed it to Inosuke.
"This belonged to a Flame Breathing user fifty years ago. The blade is heavy—should suit that monstrous strength of yours."
Inosuke caught it.
The weight in his hand pleased him immensely.
He drew the blade from its sheath. The edge was sharp, the cold light biting—clearly a fine sword.
And yet, Inosuke frowned.
"Too smooth."
He curled his lip in disdain.
"This slippery thing cuts flesh with no resistance at all. There's no tearing sensation—no fun."
Doma tilted his head.
"Oh? Then what do you want instead?"
Inosuke didn't answer.
He glanced around, his gaze locking onto a large stone by the armory door—used to hold it open.
The next second, under Doma's astonished gaze, Inosuke carried the Nichirin Blade over.
He lifted the stone and smashed it down onto the blade's edge.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Crisp metallic impacts echoed throughout the vault.
The once-smooth edge was brutally ruined, chipped into uneven notches—transforming the sword into something resembling a saw.
"Hah..."
Inosuke tossed the stone aside and raised the now-disfigured blade, inspecting it in the moonlight.
The shark-tooth-like edge made him grin in satisfaction.
"Now this looks right.
Dad, this is a blade. That other thing was just… just a sheet of iron."
If a Demon Slayer swordsmith saw this scene, they'd probably cough blood and die on the spot.
But Doma stared at the ruined sword, stunned for a moment—then burst into delighted laughter once more.
"Hahahaha! Interesting! Truly interesting!"
He clapped his hands, eyes brimming with admiration.
"You dislike smooth endings and prefer tearing pain instead?
Inosuke, your taste is becoming more and more like mine.
A blade like this—when it cuts, it'll tear out far more flesh and blood, won't it? How beautiful!"
Inosuke rolled his eyes internally.
Like you, my ass. Stupid dad.
"Now that you have a weapon, it's time to test its edge."
Doma snapped his fingers.
From the shadows in the corner of the armory came the dragging sound of chains.
A hidden door slowly opened, and a thick stench of rot rushed out.
A red-eyed demon, bound in iron chains, lunged forward like a rabid dog.
But halfway through, the chains yanked him back, leaving him only able to roar hoarsely at Inosuke.
This was a Lower Demon—something Doma had captured long ago, used as a living trash bin to dispose of the corpses of disobedient believers.
"Daddy's not bullying you,"
Doma said with a smile, fanning himself as he retreated to the side.
"I've starved this demon for three days. All he can see now is meat.
Inosuke, kill him.
Use your new blade—and your self-created Breathing Style."
"If you lose, you'll become his midnight snack."
"…Just kidding,"
Doma muttered quietly.
Inosuke tightened his grip on the jagged Nichirin Blade, breathing in the nauseating stench of blood in the air.
His hyper-sensitive touch activated instantly.
In his perception, the demon's killing intent was like a spike aimed straight at his throat.
The flow of air traced clear lines in his mind.
"A starving demon, huh?
Perfect—let me christen my blade!"
Inosuke felt no fear at all. Instead, he took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently.
Oxygen flooded into his bloodstream, and he instantly entered combat mode.
"ROOOAR!!!"
The demon snapped one of the long-rusted chains and lunged at Inosuke with clawed hands.
Here it comes!
Inosuke didn't retreat.
His legs slammed into the ground—and instead of backing off, he charged straight in.
His body stayed extremely low, slipping beneath the demon's claws like a cannonball.
At the same time, the serrated blade in his hand swung up violently.
Total Concentration — Ice Breathing, Second Form!
This move didn't rely on Doma's ice.
Instead, it exploited the jagged blade itself, mimicking the sharpness of icicles.
"Ice Breathing · Second Form · Shattered Ice Fangs!"
Pshk!
The blade sank deep into the demon's neck.
Because the edge was uneven, the cut wasn't smooth—it sawed viciously through muscle fibers and cervical bone.
The grating sound—like cutting through solid ice—made one's scalp go numb.
"BREAK!!!"
Inosuke roared, veins bulging in his arms as he relied purely on brute force—
Sawing the demon's head clean off like chopping timber!
Thud-thud-thud!
The demon's head rolled across the floor, its eyes still filled with disbelief and terror.
It had never imagined it would die at the hands of a seven-year-old human child—let alone in such a brutal way.
Inosuke flicked the black blood from his blade and stepped on the demon's body as it disintegrated.
He turned to Doma and flashed that signature smile—innocent, yet faintly feral.
"Dad, this blade's great. Sawing through bones feels amazing."
Doma watched the scene, so moved he nearly teared up.
He stepped forward and gently patted Inosuke's head.
"Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
Inosuke, you're now a fully qualified Divine Child."
"Since that's the case, start preparing yourself.
In a few days, it'll be the Grand Canon of the Eternal Paradise Faith. Many outsiders will come.
Daddy's prepared a much bigger stage for you—
Go and give those ignorant humans a small taste of what a Divine Child can do."