Chapter 53 53: First Battle with Sanemi Shinazugawa

"Zenitsu, move!"

Tanjiro's shout tore across the plain.

But the distance was too short.

Inosuke, standing farther away, had no time to help either. All he could do was watch as the green tornado swallowed the gap between Sanemi and Zenitsu.

Zenitsu let out a strangled scream.

Then—

The storm stopped.

The roaring wind scattered in an instant, leaving only a cold Nichirin sword pressed against Zenitsu's neck.

Zenitsu's eyes bulged. His entire body stiffened, trembling so hard his teeth chattered. His heart pounded as if it were trying to escape his ribs.

"Hah… hah… I really almost died…" he wheezed. "That scared the life out of—"

Sanemi punched him in the stomach.

Hard.

Zenitsu folded around the blow like a broken shrimp, flew backward in a graceful arc, and slammed into the ground several meters away. His eyes rolled back, foam leaked from his mouth, and he stopped moving.

Sanemi lowered his fist without even looking at him.

"You won't die," he said, turning toward the remaining two. "That doesn't mean you won't end up half-dead."

His gaze locked onto Inosuke.

Then he kicked off the ground.

The grass beneath his feet tore apart as he rushed forward.

"So I'm next?" Inosuke barked out a laugh, raising both swords. "Good! Come on, scar-face!"

His arms crossed.

"Beast Breathing—Fifth Fang: Crazy Cutting!"

The twin swords flashed in a wild storm of intersecting slashes, savage and unpredictable, a style born from instinct rather than instruction.

Sanemi's eyes narrowed slightly.

A self-made Breathing Style?

Interesting.

But interesting did not mean enough.

He shifted to a one-handed grip.

"Wind Breathing—Seventh Form: Gale, Sudden Gusts!"

Sanemi leapt, twisted in midair, and swung his Nichirin sword in a sharp spiral. A violent hurricane burst around him, tearing straight through Inosuke's chaotic slashes.

The next instant, Sanemi's foot struck Inosuke squarely in the back.

Inosuke hit the ground face-first and slid across the dirt.

His body ached all over, but the blow had not truly injured him. He shoved his hands beneath himself and tried to rise at once.

"Again!" he shouted. "Next time, I'll definitely hit you!"

"Shut up," Sanemi said without turning around. "You're already dead. Go sit on the side."

Inosuke froze.

Then his temper exploded.

"Hah?! Who's dead?! I'm still alive, aren't I?!"

"Is that so?"

Sanemi turned his head.

His stare was feral.

A chill crawled up Inosuke's spine. His hands trembled faintly around his sword hilts, but he still refused to back down.

"Yeah…"

A moment later, Inosuke was on the ground beside Zenitsu, unable to get up.

Only then did Sanemi turn back to Tanjiro.

"You're the only one left," he said. "Give this everything you have."

His grip tightened around his sword.

"And don't hold back. I'm allowing you to use that sword's power."

Tanjiro hesitated. "Is that really all right?"

Sanemi's expression did not change.

Tanjiro understood.

He drew a deep breath and steadied himself.

"Asuramaru," he called in his heart, "lend me your strength."

Inside the sword, Asuramaru answered at once.

"Perfect timing. I recovered some power and abilities from the battle at Mount Natagumo. I'll hand them over to you."

The next moment, something changed.

Tanjiro felt it.

Before, when Demon Power entered his body, it had only strengthened him—muscles, reflexes, stamina, senses. It had been like being filled with violent energy.

This time was different.

The power flowed through him, but it also answered him.

He could feel it moving inside the sword. He could borrow it, shape it, send it outward. At the same time, unfamiliar memories poured into his mind—methods of applying Demon Power, ways to slash with it, release it, condense it.

"All of this is…"

Tanjiro's thoughts wavered for only a heartbeat.

Then his eyes focused again.

Sanemi was already waiting.

Tanjiro raised Asuramaru with both hands.

"I'm ready!"

The instant he spoke, both of them moved.

Sanemi lunged first, his speed sharper and more violent than before.

"Let me see it for myself," he said, eyes gleaming. "How strong you become with Asuramaru!"

But Tanjiro did not retreat.

He planted his feet and warned, "Please be careful, Mr. Sanemi!"

Black mist erupted from Asuramaru's edge.

Tanjiro swung.

The mist compressed into a crescent-shaped slash and shot forward, tearing through the air with a low howl.

Sanemi's eyes widened slightly.

"What?"

There was no time to think. He dropped his stance and swung upward at once.

"Wind Breathing—Fourth Form: Rising Dust Storm!"

A cyclone of green wind blades bloomed around him, forming a defensive barrier from below.

The black crescent struck.

It tore through two layers of wind before finally scattering into nothing.

Tanjiro stared at the result, unable to hide his admiration.

"As expected of a Hashira… you really are strong!"

Sanemi did not answer.

He had already moved again.

"Wind Breathing—First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"

His sword spun, dragging the gale back around him. The wind gathered into another horizontal tornado and roared straight toward Tanjiro.

The distance between them shrank fast.

Tanjiro was still adapting to this new way of using Asuramaru's power, but he did not panic. He raised his sword and released the Demon Power again.

"Ashura Kannon—Three Swords!"

Three crimson-black swords formed from demon energy in front of him.

They shot out like arrows.

The three sword phantoms pierced straight through the hurricane.

Sanemi blocked them with his spinning Nichirin sword, but his gaze sharpened even further.

It broke through my First Form's gale?

Powerful.

But there's a delay before he releases it.

Close combat, then.

Sanemi did not stop. He pressed forward, closing the remaining distance in a few breaths.

Tanjiro reacted at the same time.

He released the power within the sword in a burst centered around himself.

A massive ring of pitch-black mist swept outward.

The mist was not just smoke. It was filled with countless tiny cutting edges, like invisible knives hidden in darkness.

Sanemi kicked off the ground and leapt backward.

Fast as he was, he did not escape untouched.

Several shallow cuts opened across his left arm.

They were small wounds.

But blood poured from them without stopping.

Sanemi glanced down.

His expression darkened.

So it was true.

The wound would not close.

The bleeding would not stop.

That was one of Asuramaru's abilities—the one mentioned during the meeting. Now that he had experienced it himself, Sanemi finally understood just how troublesome it was.

After only a few exchanges, he had already confirmed one thing.

This sword was monstrous.

Across from him, Tanjiro also realized how much Demon Power that last move had consumed.

Asuramaru had only recently recovered some strength. Wasting it like that was unacceptable.

Tanjiro's face tightened with guilt.

"I'm sorry, Asuramaru. I didn't realize that move would consume so much of your power."

Asuramaru's voice snapped back at once.

"Hmph! Can't you show a little backbone as my Sword Master?!"

.....

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