Demon Slayer: Seraph of Radiance

As dusk settled and the sun disappeared below the horizon, Kawanishi slowly climbed the mountainside, his figure cloaked in a black haori. If one looked closely, the haori was woven from fine black thorn-like fibers — an unusual fabric.

With these black thorns that could weave into garments at will, he no longer had to worry about his clothes constantly being ruined in battle.

Despite this convenience, Kawanishi felt a bit anxious. He could easily ascend the mountain in an instant, but he chose instead to walk, step by step, feeling the ground beneath his feet.

After repairing Takahashi's broken rooftop, Kawanishi had left Teitei Town and come here — to the foot of the mountain where his home once stood.

The path he had walked for so many years was deeply familiar. Kawanishi believed he could walk it even with his eyes closed.

Leaping three meters into the air, he plucked a fresh green leaf from a tree's branches.

Even without activating his demon form, Kawanishi could now maintain about twenty percent of his peak strength, which was already far beyond that of ordinary humans.

With every step, he left deep footprints in the soft earth — his control slipping slightly.

Since his battle with Matsushita, Kawanishi had begun experimenting with sustaining the Hinokami Kagura breathing technique. The excruciating pain that once overwhelmed him had become tolerable.

Though he nearly passed out several times as his body reached its limits, something within him had changed.

In the beginning, every breath under the technique tore through his cells, forcing them into agonizing regeneration. But over time, his body adapted and aligned more naturally with the Hinokami Kagura.

Now, Kawanishi could maintain it consciously, though it still required active focus. His goal was to turn this into instinctive breathing — fully naturalized.

This was all to hasten the conversion of the accumulated demonic energy within him. Left to his body's slow absorption, even a hundred years without food would not be enough.

But Kawanishi craved power. By using the breathing technique to forcibly metabolize that energy, he accelerated his growth, though much of it was inevitably lost in the process.

Every cell had become like a bottomless black hole, constantly devouring energy.

At this point, Kawanishi had almost depleted the stored energy, and hunger was beginning to set in.

Yet, compared to when he fought Matsushita, his physical strength had improved by over fifty percent in a remarkably short period.

He felt confident that he could now match Meiko in a head-on fight, and his Iron Body had reached — perhaps even slightly surpassed — her level of hardness.

The energy within Shiyoku was swelling, pressing outward with a readiness he could feel — but something was still missing.

He would need to hunt more demons to feed his cells' ravenous appetite.

"Winter is ending... spring won't be far behind."

Crushing the green leaf in his hand, Kawanishi smiled faintly.

This body, capable of endlessly devouring and growing stronger by consuming demons, was his greatest weapon.

Wait for me, Muzan Kibutsuji.

After several dozen meters, a turn in the path revealed a small wooden cabin.

It wasn't his home — not yet. This was still only halfway up the mountain. The cabin belonged to an elderly man who lived alone.

Everyone called him Grandpa Saburou, an old man who had lived here for many years.

Kawanishi hadn't planned to disturb him, but the cabin door creaked open, and Saburou spotted him.

The old man paused, then smiled warmly.

"Kawanishi… I'm so glad to see you safe. I've worried for you."

"That night, I persuaded Tanjiro to stay here. But the next day, your family…"

He sighed heavily.

"It was such a tragedy. My deepest condolences."

So that's it… Tanjiro stayed with him that night and was spared.

Kawanishi bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Grandpa Saburou. If you hadn't taken in Tanjiro, he may not have survived the demon's attack."

He spoke openly. A man as old as Saburou, who had lived through much, understood well the world's darkness. He had even once shared ghost stories with Kawanishi — stories Kawanishi hadn't believed at the time.

Saburou smiled bitterly.

"So you know it was a demon..."

"For us humans, we're nothing but prey to them."

Kawanishi said nothing, instead asking,

"Grandpa Saburou, would you consider leaving this place? It's isolated and dangerous — especially alone. There may still be demons lurking nearby."

If Saburou agreed, Kawanishi wouldn't hesitate to help him relocate to town. Though towns weren't perfectly safe, they were better than isolated mountains, and demons rarely acted recklessly where demon slayers could intervene.

But Saburou waved him off.

"No need, no need. I'm too old to uproot now. I've lived here too long. When death comes, I'll simply rejoin my family."

"Besides," he chuckled, "demons don't fancy tough old meat like mine. Probably chip their teeth trying to eat me."

Kawanishi nodded.

"Then I won't insist."

"I'll be heading home now, Grandpa Saburou."

The old man smiled kindly.

"Go on then."

Kawanishi turned to leave, but Saburou suddenly slapped his forehead.

"Wait!"

He paused patiently.

"What is it, Grandpa Saburou?"

The old man shook his head, sighing.

"Getting old, I forget everything. I had something in mind, but it slipped my head. Give me a moment."

He shuffled back into the cabin, and Kawanishi's sharp hearing told him Saburou was rummaging for something.

Soon, Saburou returned holding two cloth pouches, one large, one small.

He approached with a gentle smile.

"I've got some wisteria flowers here for you, to offer when you visit your family's graves."

"And this is a wisteria sachet I made myself — I had a spare, so it's yours."

"You may not stay long, but consider this an old man's blessing. You might not know, but demons hate the smell of wisteria."

"Carry this with you when you leave. May it keep you safe and far from demons."

Saburou knew much of demons — his family had fallen to them long ago. He was well aware that wisteria repelled them, and his cabin was lined with wisteria, though his stock was limited.

As he spoke, Saburou loosened the pouch's string, revealing the purple blossoms inside.

At the moment the pouch opened, Kawanishi instinctively stepped back.

For within the flowers, his sensitive nose caught a sharply pungent scent — intensely overwhelming to him.

His heightened senses amplified it to an unbearable degree, nearly forcing him to vomit and faint on the spot...

(End of Chapter)