Beneath the morning glow, Luke sat cross-legged beneath a peach tree. With every breath, white vapor streamed from his mouth like a pale dragon.
"What incredible progress. All those years of hard work really weren’t wasted after all."
Jigoro came down from the slope, his face full of gratification as he observed Luke’s condition.
"It’s because you taught me well, Master."
Luke opened his eyes and answered modestly.
This was already his second morning in the world of Demon Slayer. Breathing Styles might seem profound and mysterious, but Luke did not find them difficult to learn.
If he had to categorize them, he would call them the internal arts he had once imagined. He had always possessed exceptional talent in that area, so it took him only a few hours to get started—and a single day to master the First through Sixth Forms of Thunder Breathing that Jigoro had taught him.
"Now that you’ve finally gotten the hang of it, you mustn’t slack off. Practice the First through Sixth Forms of Thunder Breathing often, and strive to reach the state of Total Concentration Breathing: Constant as soon as possible."
Jigoro gave him a stern reminder. To be honest, Luke learning every Thunder Breathing sword form in a single day had shocked him tremendously.
But beyond the shock was even greater joy. He felt that his years of patient effort had not been wasted. The seed that was Luke had finally sprouted, and it would grow into a towering tree at a speed no one could have imagined.
The stronger Luke became, the more people he could protect—and the better he could protect himself.
"Grandpa—I really can’t do this! Let Senior Brother go to the selection instead..."
Zenitsu stood behind Jigoro, clinging to him like a stubborn stray dog. He looked as though he desperately wanted to run away, but Jigoro had tied him up with a rope.
"Zenitsu, believe in yourself. You can do it."
Jigoro’s head hurt the moment he heard Zenitsu’s voice. He had no idea how to instill confidence in the boy. A few days ago, he had wavered too. Although Zenitsu’s Thunder Breathing training had met the standard, with that personality of his, taking part in the selection might truly put his life at risk.
But now, he was no longer worried. After all, Luke, his eldest disciple, had learned Thunder Breathing and would be taking part in this selection as well. In Jigoro’s eyes, the Demons at the selection grounds should pose no real threat to Luke, and Luke would surely look after his junior brother.
"But I only know the First Form..."
Zenitsu still wanted to throw a tantrum, but Luke interrupted him.
"Zenitsu, just stay with me. I’ll make you understand how strong you really are."
Luke’s voice was steady, and for some reason it filled Zenitsu with reassurance. All the excuses he had prepared died in his throat.
Looking at the expectant gazes of his senior brother and grandfather, he felt that continuing to act spoiled would be letting them down too much. In the end, he could only grit his teeth and decide to join the selection.
Still, he had already made up his mind. When the time came, he would stick close behind Senior Brother Luke. Senior Brother Luke was incredibly strong—probably even stronger than Senior Brother Kaigaku by now, right?
"Good. If you two brothers look after each other, then I can rest easy. Once you pass the selection, remember to send me a letter."
Seeing that Zenitsu had stopped whining, Jigoro smiled and took two bundles from his back. "This one is yours, Luke. There are fried rice cakes inside—the kind you like. I made them fresh this morning."
Then he handed the other bundle to Zenitsu. "Zenitsu, this one is yours. There are two changes of clothes inside. You’re always so careless, so don’t cause trouble for your senior brother once you’re down the mountain."
Luke accepted his bundle and opened it for a look. Inside was a neatly folded change of clothes, along with fried rice cakes wrapped in clean oil paper. There was a generous amount of them.
Warmth rose in his chest. Fried rice cakes were not actually his favorite food, but he did enjoy these little snacks—crisp on the outside, tender within, and sprinkled with salt.
And he knew that although Jigoro had once been a Hashira, his life was far from wealthy. In these generally impoverished times in Japan, glutinous rice was expensive. Normally, they would never eat foods like rice cakes made from it.
"Luke, even if you were born with tremendous strength, once you become a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, you still need to be careful in everything you do..."
Jigoro thought for a moment, but seemed unable to find anything more to say. Leaning on his cane, he reached out as if to pat Luke on the shoulder.
Luke looked at the small old man with one leg missing and lowered his body slightly so Jigoro’s hand could reach his shoulder. Jigoro’s face was filled with emotion. "Time passes so quickly. I can’t even reach you anymore... Take care of yourself."
"Don’t worry, Master."
Luke answered. As the morning sun rose, it was time for him and Zenitsu to depart.
Mount Fujikasane was not particularly far from Mount Peach Blossom, but it still took a day to reach. They had to get moving now, or they might miss the start of the selection.
Before leaving, Zenitsu put away his usual unserious demeanor. He sincerely knelt and kowtowed to Jigoro. He truly believed that his grandfather had treated him well, and after passing this selection, he might not be able to return and see him again for a very long time.
For some reason, he also had a terrible premonition, as though this trip down the mountain would become his final farewell to his grandfather.
The small Jigoro stood beneath the peach tree as wind brushed across his aged face. Watching Luke and Zenitsu’s retreating backs as they descended the mountain, he murmured, "I don’t ask that you change this era. Just stay alive."
…………
After Luke and Zenitsu climbed the steps, they could not help but marvel at the breathtaking sight before them.
Wisteria cascaded down the hillside like waterfalls. Clusters of blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, releasing a delicate fragrance. The petals carried a faint violet hue, as though the softest clouds at sunset had solidified into bloom, intoxicating all who beheld them.
Now and then, petals drifted from the branches like purple butterflies dancing through the air before settling quietly upon the lush green grass, adding a touch of tranquil beauty to the sea of flowers.
On the day of Final Selection, he and Zenitsu arrived at Mount Fujikasane right on time. A few minor incidents had occurred along the way. For instance, when they spent the previous night in an abandoned cabin in the wilderness, they had been attacked by a Demon.
Interestingly, after quietly slipping into the cabin and finding Zenitsu asleep inside, that Demon immediately turned around and ran.
Luke did not let it go. He silently sprang forward and decapitated it with a single slash beneath the night sky.
His original intention had been to test whether Prison Demon worked against Demons. The result was more than merely effective—it was astonishingly effective.
By all rights, Prison Demon was not a Nichirin Blade and should not have been able to deal a fatal blow to a Demon. Yet his test proved that a Demon decapitated by Prison Demon simply could not survive.
Luke guessed that it was because Prison Demon was itself a Zanpakuto, whose attacks naturally possessed the trait of severing souls. It did not inflict purely physical damage. Like a Nichirin Blade, it could effectively harm Demons—perhaps even more effectively.
After all, Nichirin Blades destroyed Demons through the power of the sun, while Zanpakuto acted directly upon the soul. Still, Luke could not yet be certain whether this decapitation kill effect would work against the Upper Ranks, or even Muzan Kibutsuji himself.
Since he had been testing it, Luke had not used his full strength. He had not even employed Thunder Breathing. Unfortunately, that Demon had been too weak and died in a single strike, so he still did not know whether techniques enhanced by a Breathing Style could deal even more pronounced damage to Demons.
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