Inside the main hall of the Ubuyashiki estate, silence hung heavy after Yosuke finished explaining Kibutsuji Muzan's abilities.
Even fighting Muzan's spawn was already a desperate struggle. To face Muzan himself was another matter entirely.
And when that day came, Muzan would not arrive alone. He would bring an army of demons. Who then would stand against Muzan directly?
Kagaya Ubuyashiki, ever calm despite his frailty, spoke softly to reassure them:
"There is no need for despair. If Ancestor Yosuke has come here of his own will, then surely he must already have a plan."
Yosuke nodded.
"The key to this battle… is Yoriichi."
At once, all eyes turned toward the man who had been sitting silently at the side all this time—Tsugikuni Yoriichi.
The Water Hashira, Tokimoto Eriko, paled.
"You mean to let Yoriichi-sama face Muzan alone? Absolutely not! He may be strong, but he is still only human—it's far too dangerous!"
To Eriko, Yoriichi was not only her senior, but her master in all but name. When no one yet knew the Breathing Styles, it was he who had freely taught them. To let him face Muzan alone was unthinkable.
But Yosuke shook his head.
"Of course not. I will fight alongside Yoriichi. We will face Muzan together. What matters most… is you all."
"Us?" the Hashira asked in confusion.
Yosuke nodded.
"Yes. While Yoriichi and I fight Muzan, we need an uninterrupted battlefield. That means you must hold back Muzan's demon army. But as you are now… you are far too weak."
The Hashira bristled at the insult. Since mastering the Breathing Styles, they had fought demons with ease. How could this so-called ancestor dismiss them as so lacking?
Yosuke only continued, voice steady.
>"I speak the truth. Do not deceive yourselves. On that day, you won't be facing one or two demons. You'll be facing hundreds—thousands. Ask yourselves honestly: could you withstand that?"
Silence fell again. In their minds, each of them could picture it: a sea of demons surging toward them. And in that vision, none of them stood firm.
Yosuke pressed on.
"That is why, before the final battle, you must hone your strength further. You must awaken your Marks, your Red Blades, and attain the Transparent World."
The unfamiliar terms left the Hashira bewildered.
Yosuke sighed inwardly. These five before him were the pioneers, the forerunners of the Corps that would exist centuries later. Words like Marks, Transparent World, and Red Blades were foreign to them now. And when that final battle arrived… how many of those present would survive to see its end?
"I believe Yoriichi is the one most familiar with these things," Yosuke said, shifting the focus. "After all, he was born with a Mark."
At his prompting, Yoriichi began to explain:
"As for Marks and the Transparent World… my knowledge is limited. When my body temperature rises above thirty-nine degrees, and my heart beats faster than two hundred times a minute, the Mark upon my brow expands. My physical strength increases greatly.
"The Transparent World is entered once the Mark is awakened. It allows one to foresee movement, to evade attacks with greater speed, even to see the rise and fall of an enemy's lungs, or the flow and contraction of their blood vessels. One's own muscles, too, respond with greater swiftness.
"As for the Red Blade—by exerting immense grip strength, or through the clash of blades, one can heat the Nichirin until it glows red. Such a blade inflicts far greater damage upon demons, and their regeneration falters where it cuts."
The Hashira listened carefully, though beyond the Red Blade, most of what Yoriichi described remained a haze of incomprehension.
Kagaya, however, smiled faintly.
"Then that is our path. All of you, devote yourselves to training. When the time is right, the campaign to eradicate Muzan shall begin in earnest."
At that, all except Yosuke and Kagaya withdrew from the hall.
When they were alone, Kagaya turned to him.
"Ancestor Yosuke, have you considered how we are to lure Muzan out?"
Yosuke's lips curved into a cold smile.
"What Muzan desires most is the Blue Spider Lily. Then let us spread word that it has fallen into our hands. That will draw him to us."
But Kagaya shook his head gently.
"No. Muzan is cautious—always. The Corps has struggled against him for centuries, and I have come to know his nature well. He will not be deceived unless he is certain the Lily is truly in our possession."
Yosuke's eyes narrowed. He could already guess Kagaya's intent.
"…You mean to say—"
Kagaya inclined his head.
"Yes. Let me be the bait. Muzan has always sought the extermination of the Ubuyashiki clan, the founders of the Corps. Yet by our gift of foresight, we have evaded him, living hidden in these mountains. To him, I am a thorn in his eye. He will relish the chance to kill me with his own hands."
Yosuke's refusal was immediate.
"No. If you die, who will lead the Corps?"
But Kagaya only smiled, serene and untroubled by the thought of death.
"My son, Kiriya Ubuyashiki, will succeed me. He will command the Corps in my stead.
"I can already feel my time drawing near. If, in these last days, I can burn away what remains of my life for the Corps, then I will die content."
Yosuke fell silent, still weighing if there could be another way.
But Kagaya's tone grew firm, unshakable.
"Ancestor Yosuke, this is the best way. When the decisive battle comes, we cannot afford the slightest error. And besides… it is time to end this bond of blood and hatred that has persisted for centuries."
Though his eyes were clouded and lifeless, the conviction in Kagaya's voice stirred Yosuke's heart.
At last, Yosuke sighed, weary and bitter.
"You call me ancestor, yet here I am—unable to help you. Some ancestor I am."
Kagaya smiled gently.
"Each of us has our fate. If mine is to die so that Muzan may be destroyed, then I will die without regret."
He produced a bottle of sake and two cups, pouring until both brimmed. He set one cup before Yosuke.
Yosuke frowned in concern.
"Your body cannot endure alcohol."
But Kagaya chuckled softly, a trace of boyishness in his voice.
"It matters little. In these final days, I wish to indulge—just once. To share a drink with you, Ancestor. Only this once… will you humor me?"
Yosuke stared at him for a long moment. Yes… even as the Corps' leader, he is still just a man barely past twenty years of age.
At last, Yosuke lifted the cup, and their glasses met with a soft chime. He drained it in a single swallow.
"Very well. Just this once."
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