Solar Blade

Alert

Tanjiro and [Name] edged closer to the two figures engaged in conversation, their curiosity piqued. The speakers appeared nearly identical, with strikingly similar features that were only differentiated by their contrasting hair colours—one a snowy white and the other a deep, raven shade. As Tanjiro's heart began to race at the thought of the Final Selection looming just ahead, he couldn't help but steal glances at [Name]. He noticed their fingers tightening around the hilt of their blade, an instinctual reaction to the uncertainty that filled the atmosphere.

Instinctively, Tanjiro took a deep breath and focused on the air around them. It was a skill he had honed through countless encounters—detecting even the faintest traces of demonic presence. To his relief, no sinister scent wafted around them. This small detail eased some of his anxiety as he listened intently to the conversation between the two speakers.

"The demons that lurk in the shadows of Mt. Fujikasane may have once roamed free, but they are now imprisoned here," the white-haired speaker explained, their tone grave. "Captured alive by the brave and skilled Demon Slayer swordsmen, these creatures can no longer escape."

Their companion, with the ebony hair, nodded in agreement, adding, "The reason for their captivity lies in the wisteria that blooms abundantly throughout this area. It is a flower that demons detest, thriving year-round from the base of the mountain all the way up to the midpoint, creating a barrier against their advance."

Tanjiro leaned in slightly, absorbing every word. It made sense; the flowers served as a natural defence against the demons. The mountain was not just a geographical challenge; it was a sanctuary of sorts against the horrors they would face.

"However," the white-haired speaker continued. a serious expression settling on their face, "once you cross beyond this point, the lovely wisteria is nowhere to be found. This treacherous stretch of the mountain is a feeding ground for demons, and they will be waiting for you."

A hush fell over the gathered crowd as the implications of those words sank in. The reality of the Final Selection became starkly clear—a test of survival against the very beings they had trained for so long to combat. As Tanjiro glanced over at [Name], he could see the determination flicker in their eyes, mirroring his resolve.

"You must endure here for seven days," the raven-haired speaker emphasised, their voice firm and unwavering. "Only by surviving this trial can you pass the Final Selection and continue on your path as a Demon Slayer."

With that final statement, the two speakers gestured for the others to proceed deeper into the mountain, creating a path for the candidates who were eager yet apprehensive. The air shifted, imbued with a mix of excitement and trepidation as the arduous journey officially began. Tanjiro felt the weight of their mission settle upon him, a heavy cloak of responsibility. As he and [Name] followed behind the others, he steeled himself for the challenges ahead, knowing that every moment could be a matter of life or death. The Final Selection had officially commenced, and there could be no turning back now.

𐙚˙⋆.˚

As Tanjiro and [Name] made their way cautiously through the dense underbrush of the mountain trail, a chill settled over them. The atmosphere was heavy with an unsettling stillness, and with every step, the weight of the forest pressed in around them. Suddenly, their eyes fell upon a grotesque sight: a lifeless body lay crumpled against the rough, uneven ground, its once-vibrant form now a mere husk.

[Name] scoffed dismissively, their gaze flickering over the scene like a cold wind passing through trees. In stark contrast, Tanjiro felt the familiar sting of sorrow rising in his throat, the unshed tears threatening to spill over. It was a raw reminder of the cruel world they fought against. He clenched his fists, willing himself to remain composed, though it was a struggle.

With a swift motion, [Name] shifted the boy's lifeless body to the side—a grim task that spoke volumes of their hardened resolve. As they did so, Tanjiro's heart ached for this lost soul, his eyes drawn to the gory remnants of battle that stained the slayer's face with a gruesome sheen. Crouching beside the boy, Tanjiro was struck by the haunting image of the corpse: its eyes, wide open, seemed to gaze unseeing into the void, a frozen testament to the terror that had claimed him.

"Tanjiro, what are you doing?" [Name] asked, their voice slicing through the heavy silence as they turned slightly, glancing back at him. There was a mixture of urgency and exasperation in their tone.

"This poor soul," Tanjiro spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, reverberating with compassion. "He only took a single step inside the mountain and he was slain." His words hung in the air, heavy with the dangerous implications lurking beyond their sight.

Yet, [Name] remained unfazed, their attention drawn away from Tanjiro's sombre musings and focused on the world around them. They were the vigilant ones, always tuned in to the subtle sounds of nature, the whispers that foretold of danger. Tanjiro's heart sank as he realized he was allowing his emotions to cloud his awareness, echoing the naivety he had felt at the beginning of their training.

Suddenly, as if summoned by their despair, a foul presence emerged from the shadows. Tanjiro's senses prickled, and he looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of a demon, its grotesque figure looming ominously. Panic surged through him, and instinctively, his hand flew to grasp his blade. This must be the very demon responsible for the boy's tragic end! His mind raced; he felt as if time warped around him, the world blurring into a nightmarish reality as the demon's sharp claws neared his face, threatening to snatch away his vision.

Just then, a rush of cold air whizzed past his ear—too close, too dangerous. Tanjiro's shout caught in his throat, drowned out by a piercing scream that sent chills running down his spine. As he opened one eye cautiously, his breath caught in his chest. There, standing protectively before him, was [Name]. With their back turned towards him, they held their blade aloft, the steel gleaming with a brilliant blue light that illuminated the darkness around them.

The demon's form began to disintegrate, its malevolent essence reduced to nothingness as if it had never existed at all. Tanjiro felt an overwhelming wave of relief washes over him, a surge of gratitude flooding his heart.

"[Name], that was you? You saved me," Tanjiro puffed, scrambling to his feet, awe evident in his voice.

"Why weren't you alert?" [Name] challenged, but there was an underlying softness in their gaze. "You didn't consider the possibility that a dead body may infer the presence of a nearby demon." Despite their reprimand, Tanjiro could read between the lines, hearing an unspoken message woven into their words: 'You're welcome.'

A/N

Hello! Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I just had a bucketload of work (definitely didn't leave it until the last day). Also, I can't wait for the Demon Slayer movies to come out! Who else can't wait for the Infinity Castle Arc? Please keep reading and thank you!

Question: If you could create a breathing style/blood demon art, what would it be?

Taisho Era Secret: The demon that [Name] killed used to be a resident of the very village they used to live in.