When they entered the room, Kiriya Ubuyashiki was already waiting inside. The moment he saw them, he stepped forward warmly to greet them.
Soma smiled in return. "Greetings, Kiriya-sama."
"Please, sir, there is no need for such formality. You may simply call me Kiriya."
As he spoke, the young boy stepped closer and crouched down, pulling out a pair of slippers and placing them neatly by the entrance. When he stood again, he absentmindedly smoothed his slightly tousled hair, then moved closer once more, gently brushing a stray wisteria petal off Soma's shoulder before stepping aside with a soft, welcoming smile.
Soma watched the entire sequence… and felt his eyelid twitch.
After all, due to the peculiarities of the Ubuyashiki bloodline, Kiriya had been frail since birth. He had been raised as a girl from a young age—his clothing, mannerisms, even his demeanor had all been shaped by that upbringing.
And with two older sisters and two younger sisters around him, it was only natural that those influences had taken root deeply.
Coupled with his youthful, delicate features and shoulder-length hair, the overall effect was… overwhelmingly gentle.
Almost too gentle.
Instinctively, Soma took a step back. Recalling how the boy had casually taken his arm the previous day, he felt a strange, lingering sense of awkwardness.
Kiriya looked at Soma's reaction with confusion.
"Kiriya-sama… perhaps it's better not to do that," Soma said with a sigh, retreating another half-step. "If it were Miss Hinaki, I wouldn't mind."
Kiriya blinked, utterly baffled.
Even Hinaki, standing to the side, lifted her head in confusion, unsure why she had suddenly been mentioned.
Soma continued, his tone entirely serious, "I enjoy fine sake, and I appreciate beautiful women—but I have no such interest in men."
Then, lowering his voice slightly, he added, "Your manner is simply too gentle, Kiriya-sama. It almost makes me suspect you're a woman."
Kiriya's face flushed instantly with embarrassment.
"Pfft—"
Behind them, Makomo couldn't hold it in and let out a soft laugh.
Even Hinaki covered her mouth, a quiet giggle escaping her lips. But then she remembered what Soma had just said—that he wouldn't mind if it were her—and a faint blush spread across her pale cheeks. Almost involuntarily, her gaze drifted toward him.
He was… quite handsome.
And unlike most people here, who tended to be smaller in stature, he stood tall—taller even than her father—his presence steady and reassuring in a way that made one feel safe.
Without meaning to, her thoughts drifted back to the previous day—to the image of him casually smashing his cup and walking away with such unrestrained ease.
A sudden thought surfaced in her mind—
What would it be like… to be with someone like him?
The moment the thought appeared, Hinaki startled herself, her heart skipping. As a daughter of the Ubuyashiki family, marriage was never something she could decide for herself. Even her mother, Amane Ubuyashiki, had entered her marriage through family arrangement.
Her thoughts spiraled for a moment, and she found herself glancing at him again—only to abruptly sense something.
Her gaze shifted.
Standing beside him was a petite girl, looking at her with those clear, pink-purple eyes, filled with quiet curiosity.
For an instant, Hinaki felt as though all her thoughts had been seen through completely, laid bare beneath that gentle gaze. Her cheeks flushed deeper, and she quickly turned away, hurrying ahead into the room under the pretense of arranging the dishes laid out on the table.
Hinaki's sudden reaction didn't go unnoticed—Kiriya looked at her in mild surprise. His sister was usually composed; such flustered behavior was unlike her.
Pushing that thought aside, Kiriya instead began reflecting on himself. Perhaps Soma was right—having been raised as a girl for so long, his habits had indeed become overly soft, enough to make others uncomfortable.
With that in mind, he composed himself and continued to guide Soma and the others into the room, showing no sign of offense at the earlier remarks.
Aside from the prepared meal set neatly on the tatami, there was a large pile of Scarlet Ore placed in the center of the room. As sunlight streamed through the window and fell upon the ore, it seemed as though the surrounding light was subtly absorbed, dimming the space around them.
"So… this is the Scarlet Ore used to forge Nichirin Swords?"
Soma took his seat, settling cross-legged on the floor. His gaze drifted toward the pile of ore laid out in the open space before him, curiosity flickering faintly in his eyes.
"Yes," Kiriya Ubuyashiki replied softly, already seated in the place of honor. Then, as if realizing his voice might be too quiet—and perhaps worried Soma might misunderstand him again—he straightened slightly and raised his tone.
"These ores can absorb and store the energy of the sun. Weapons forged from them carry that power within, which is why they possess the ability to slay demons."
"I see," Soma nodded in understanding.
By then, Kanao, Makomo, and Tanjiro had also taken their seats.
Just as Soma reached for the sake flask to pour himself a drink, a slender, pale hand moved ahead of him and picked it up first, leaving his hand hovering briefly in midair.
He had assumed Hinaki meant to pour herself a drink—but instead, the girl lowered herself slightly and carefully filled the cup placed before him.
Though her features were still youthful, every movement she made carried an elegant composure, each gesture refined and precise. It was the kind of grace that could only be cultivated through years of upbringing within a great family.
"Thanks," Soma said, lifting the cup and taking a sip. Then, glancing toward Kiriya, he added casually, "I might need quite a few custom weapons."
Kiriya blinked, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "May I ask… how many?"
Normally, those who passed the Final Selection would have one personalized weapon forged. Of course, there were exceptions—some swordsmen used unconventional fighting styles.
Not all Nichirin weapons were swords. For example, Gyomei Himejima's weapon wasn't a blade at all, but a chain-linked axe and flail—arguably closer to three weapons than one.
"Ten, I think. Blades, spears, swords, hammers…" Soma said as he took another sip, casually listing them while thinking it over.
After all, ever since absorbing the Hand Demon's abilities on Mount Fujikasane, he could manifest eight additional arms from his back. Including his original two, that made ten.
Ten weapons.
He almost didn't dare imagine it—once he revealed that form, how could anyone possibly fight him?
You strike him once—
He strikes back tenfold.
Even Soma had to admit, facing something like that would feel utterly unreasonable.
But since he was the one wielding that power… well, that was a different story.
The only drawback was that it wasn't something he could easily reveal in front of others. After all, sprouting eight extra arms from one's back was hardly something a human could do.
He recalled that Kibutsuji Muzan himself possessed multiple brains and hearts, and in battle could extend nine whip-like tendrils from his body—a terrifying and troublesome ability.
Compared to that, Soma's eight-armed form at least wouldn't fall behind in sheer numbers.
"Ten weapons… and all different kinds…" Kiriya's eyes widened in genuine astonishment. He had expected perhaps two or three at most—but ten was far beyond anything he had imagined.
"Do you really need that many?" he couldn't help but ask.
"Is it possible?" Soma didn't directly answer the question. Instead, he turned it back on Kiriya.
After all, for an ordinary human, requesting ten custom weapons would be difficult to justify. It was better to test what Kiriya was willing—or able—to allow.
Typically, a swordsman would receive only one custom Nichirin Sword. Even making an exception for an extra one or two would be manageable.
But ten…
That was another matter entirely.
As the future head of the Demon Slayer Corps, Kiriya wasn't incapable of arranging it. If he personally negotiated with the Swordsmith Village, they likely wouldn't refuse his request.
But doing so would undoubtedly break established rules.
Even so, after only a brief moment of hesitation, Kiriya clenched his teeth slightly and nodded.
"…It can be done."
This time, it was Soma's turn to be surprised.
He had fully expected to be refused and had even been prepared to simply acquire a few additional weapons elsewhere. Yet Kiriya had agreed without backing down, despite how unreasonable the request clearly was.
For a moment, Soma couldn't help but look at him more closely.
"Thank you."
Soma raised his cup slightly in acknowledgment.
Kiriya instinctively moved to raise his own in return, but Soma stopped him with a small gesture. The boy's frail condition was obvious at a glance—he didn't look like someone who should be drinking at all.
"You should take better care of your health, Kiriya. Being this delicate won't do," Soma said casually.
"My apologies for making a poor impression," Kiriya replied, a faint shadow crossing his expression.
If he could, he would have wanted to stand alongside the other swordsmen—hunting demons, protecting lives with his own strength.
But that was never an option for him.
Because of the curse placed upon the Ubuyashiki bloodline—the consequence of producing someone like Kibutsuji Muzan—every male descendant of the family was doomed to be frail and short-lived unless Muzan was slain.
As a direct heir, Kiriya would never possess the robust physique of a swordsman. And not just him—any future sons he might have would share the same fate.
That was the true reason the Ubuyashiki family had dedicated themselves, generation after generation, to the eradication of Muzan.
It wasn't merely out of noble ideals or a sense of duty to protect humanity.
It was also survival.
And it was precisely because of this that the Ubuyashiki family had supported the Demon Slayer Corps tirelessly for centuries, sparing no effort or resource.
…
Meanwhile, Soma, Tanjiro, Makomo, and Kanao began selecting their pieces of Scarlet Ore.
The ores here had clearly been carefully curated—both in quantity and quality, they were exceptional.
Once everyone had made their choices, Kiriya recorded their specific requirements for their weapons before speaking again.
"This selection has seen an unusually high number of successful candidates, so forging your personalized Nichirin Swords may take some time. However, yours will be prioritized and crafted first. Even so, it will still take a few days. Once they are ready, they will be delivered to you immediately."
For the Demon Slayer Corps, it was rare to have so many pass the Final Selection at once. For the Swordsmith Village, this meant a significant increase in workload.
"That's fine," Soma nodded.
Seeing that they had no objections, Kiriya clapped his hands lightly.
"Now that the Nichirin Swords have been decided, next are your Kasugai crows. They will serve as your companions for communication and mission dispatch within the Corps."
As his words fell, the sound of flapping wings came from outside the window.
Soon, four Kasugai crows flew into the room. Their feathers were uniformly black—none of them unusual like Zenitsu's rare sparrow.
The crows circled the room briefly before landing one by one—on Tanjiro, Makomo, and Kanao's shoulders.
But the last crow continued circling overhead, refusing to land on Soma.
It hovered restlessly, as though hesitant… even afraid.
This unexpected behavior caught Kiriya off guard.
Soma, however, had a rough idea why.
The crow had likely sensed something different about him—something it instinctively feared.
After several failed attempts, Kiriya quickly summoned a handler responsible for raising and training the Kasugai crows—a member of the Corps' support staff.
Once the handler arrived, he began issuing a series of commands. Under his guidance, the circling crow hesitated several times before finally, cautiously, descending onto Soma's shoulder.
Soma turned his head slightly, offering the bird a faint smile.
The crow immediately shrank back, tucking its head into its wings as if trying to make itself as small as possible.
"It seems this one is a little afraid of me," Soma said with a shrug, noticing the looks from Kiriya, Hinaki, and the handler.
As his shoulder shifted, the crow trembled instinctively.
"This is the first time I've seen something like this," the handler admitted, frowning in confusion. "Kasugai crows are usually very obedient. This kind of hesitation is unusual. Still… once a crow chooses its master, it will follow them for life."
Soma raised a brow slightly. "Then tell me—could this crow ever betray me?"
"Impossible," the handler answered immediately, his tone firm and certain. "A Kasugai crow would never betray its master. At least, we have never encountered such a case."
Soma reached out and gently stroked the crow's ink-black feathers. "Still… this one doesn't seem to like its master very much."
Kiriya hesitated slightly before asking, "Would you like me to have it replaced? It's rare, but not entirely unheard of."
"No need. I'll keep this one," Soma replied, his hand still idly brushing along the bird's wings.
When it had been flying, its size hadn't seemed particularly small—but now, perched on his shoulder with its wings tucked in, it felt surprisingly slight. So small, in fact, that it seemed like he could crush it with one hand if he wanted to.
"Let's hope you really won't betray me," he murmured with a faint smile.
The crow shuddered ever so slightly.
After the crows were assigned, attendants soon arrived to take measurements for their uniforms.
It was only then that Soma learned something interesting—unlike ordinary clothing, the uniforms of the Demon Slayer Corps were made with a blend of special materials, including a portion of Scarlet Ore. Combined with other rare substances, the fabric possessed remarkable properties: it was breathable, resistant to water, difficult to burn, and durable enough to withstand attacks from lower-ranked demons.
No wonder their uniforms rarely tore, even in the heat of battle.
Once everything had been arranged, the group took their seats again. As Soma sipped his drink, he voiced a question that had lingered in his mind for quite some time.
"I've heard that firearms have already been introduced from the West. Why not equip Demon Slayer swordsmen with guns as well?"
It was something he genuinely couldn't understand. With firearms, dealing with demons should, in theory, become much easier.
Kiriya looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes—after all, not many people were aware of such things.
In a sense, the swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps could still be considered a kind of samurai.
But with the spread of firearms, even warriors who had trained for years could be defeated by an ordinary person with a single shot. It was precisely this shift that had led to the rapid decline of the samurai class.
Perhaps because of that, most who came from such a background harbored a deep aversion to firearms. To them, guns were not merely tools—they were symbols of the very force that had stripped them of their status.
And for the Demon Slayer Corps, largely composed of individuals shaped by that same tradition, the sentiment was no different.
Of course…
That wasn't the only reason.
...
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