Snowstride, named for its snow-white blade.
Years ago, Zeno Zoldyck took it as spoils from a swordsman.
Roy hefted the katana and gave it a test bounce. A little light. He angled forward and cut, tracing a clean arc.
The effect was immediate. His panel popped up with a prompt—"Physique +0.05."
As expected, he had mistaken the direction and ignored the essence of Sun Breathing—
It is a Breathing Style tailored for a [swordsman]. You could tell from the way a new skill slot unlocked on his panel.
[Congratulations: "Swordsmanship" unlocked]
[Current "Swordsmanship" level: lv1 (1/100)]
''Hnmm... pleasant surprise as expected, or an unexpected one?''
Roy slid the blade back into the scabbard.
At the same time, with a crisp "crack," the dining table split down the center along his axis.
Fortunately Wutong reacted fast, catching the halves so the dishes didn't spill.
"Young master, this blade is extremely sharp. Best not swing it in the bedroom," Wutong cautioned.
Roy nodded. It was a fine sword. A bit light, though. And he didn't know if he could "reverse-conjure" it into the Demon Slayer world.
''Why not... try tonight.''
He followed through. At ten, as the clock chimed, Roy showered, changed into sleepwear, hugged Snowstride, and lay down.
After a day of "electric shock," "poison drills," and Sun Breathing, his body was exhausted. Sleep took him quickly.
Soon he saw the familiar corridor again.
This time, before entering, he deliberately checked his right hand.
Empty. No Snowstride. Roy smirked at himself. Wishful thinking.
By the "old-thief" author's logic, Conjuration-type Nen users tend to over-imagine and end up neurotic.
Like Shizuku. Like Kortopi. Like Kite—who, after being killed by Neferpitou, returned female—and his Crazy Slots.
Since he had no sword at his side, he traveled light, stepped into the corridor, and drifted toward the subconscious sea. As for a blade—
The Swordsmith Village existed in Demon Slayer; he could find a smith to forge one. Worst case, he could use the black Nichirin blade Yoriichi left inside the Yoriichi Type Zero automaton for now.
With that plan set, Roy soon came to the wooden door with the demon-head charm again and pushed it open without hesitation.
The familiar drop seized him...
He opened his eyes in the small cabin. As expected.
Beside him, Takeo and Shigeru slept.
Children don't sleep still. At night they're here, by morning there. One's foot in the other's mouth, a hand stuffed into a chest, the quilt kicked onto the floor—and none the wiser.
Roy got up and tucked their blankets. The motion woke Tanjiro.
"Brother..." Tanjiro stared at him with bright, round eyes. "Will you take me up the mountain today?"
''Can I say no?'' One tap, wide-awake—Roy guessed the kid hadn't slept deeply all night.
Understandable. Seeing something beyond your frame of reference overnight—he himself would struggle not to ripple.
He shot Tanjiro a glare. "Then why aren't you up yet? Waiting for me to put your shoes on?"
"Sorry—sorry..." Tanjiro rolled off the bed at once, excited as a hen that just laid an egg, clucking as he circled Roy.
Roy ignored him, pushed open the door, and stepped into a white world of snow—just as Mother Kie lifted the kitchen curtain and came out.
Kie's hair was wrapped and a scarf tied at her neck. She carried a bundle of steaming dumplings, stuffing it into Roy's arms all at once.
"Eat on the road. Don't wait until they're cold."
And—
"Tanjiro, why are you carrying the basket?!"
"I'm going with Brother up the mountain."
"You may not."
"I'm going."
"Dear, aren't you going to say something?"
"If he wants to go, let him follow Eiichiro," came Tanjuro's voice from the veranda. No one had noticed when he arrived.
"You..."
Kie looked at Tanjuro, then at Tanjiro being as stubborn as a mule. Helpless, she turned to Roy, tightened the scarf at his neck, and said, "Take care of your brother. Be back before dark."
Grandmother came out holding Hanako. Tanjiro opened his mouth to say, "I can protect myself, and I can protect big brother."
But then he recalled Roy's ghost-like glide through the forest, and the tree pierced in one strike.
He wisely closed his mouth and only peeked sideways at Roy.
Roy ignored the look. His gaze swept across Kie, Tanjuro, Grandmother, and Hanako. He smiled gently. "Wait for me to come back."
He picked up the hoe, shouldered the basket, and turned toward the deep woods.
"Brother, wait for me." Clumsy Tanjiro hurried after.
Kie, Tanjuro, and Grandmother watched them go...
The little house receded, but the warmth stayed in Roy's chest. It was something he had never felt in the Zoldyck home.
He savored it. Cherished it. Craved it. For the first time, a thought stirred—maybe staying in this world wouldn't be so bad.
"Huff... huff..." Tanjiro quickened and caught up.
He opened his mouth, and Roy already knew what he wanted to ask. He spoke first. "Tanjiro, do you believe there are other worlds beyond the earth beneath our feet?"
"Really, Brother?" Tanjiro was stunned.
They walked across the snow and left two lines of tracks in the forest.
Unhurried, Roy said, "I once had a dream. In it I entered another world."
"In that world, I had a new family. New parents. New brothers."
"We lived by killing."
"From childhood I was trained as an assassin."
"One day I woke and found I had mastered many killing techniques without a teacher."
"Only then did I realize that dream was real."
"..." Tanjiro gaped. A cold gust knocked snow from a birch and plopped it onto his head.
It took him a while to react. "That's amazing... like when Grandpa Saburo said there are demons in this world."
"No. That part is real," Roy said, and stopped.
Tanjiro couldn't brake in time and bumped into his lower back.
The boy yelped, rubbed his head, and flared his nostrils. His face changed.
"Blood... Brother, there's a strong smell of blood ahead!"
"I see it."
Roy slipped off the basket and stood in front of Tanjiro, bracing on the hoe. His narrow eyes narrowed further.