In the early morning, dust flew across the training grounds in the backyard of the Butterfly Mansion.
Thud!
A heavy impact broke the morning silence.
Inosuke, wearing his wild boar head mask, flew through the air like a tattered sack, drawing a parabola before slamming heavily into the sand at the edge of the fence, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"That's the fifteenth time."
Yamada stood in the center of the field, holding a withered branch he had casually snapped off a tree, his gaze sweeping over the other two who were gasping for breath opposite him.
Tanjiro held his wooden sword with both hands, sweat dripping frantically from his forehead down his cheeks, evaporating instantly as it hit the dry soil.
Beside him, Zenitsu's legs were trembling even more. Even his sword-holding posture had become distorted, and he looked like he might burst into tears at any moment.
"Too slow, too stiff." Yamada pointed out their flaws mercilessly.
"Tanjiro, your Hinokami Kagura is impressively powerful, but before every strike, your shoulder muscles contract half a second early. In the eyes of a true master, that wind-up is practically broadcasting exactly where you're going to attack from."
"And you, blondie. Thunder Breathing is all about the explosive power of a one-hit kill. You keep charging up and posing in place. If you encountered a demon with long-range Blood Demon Art, you'd have been turned into a pincushion long ago. Integrate the explosion of thunder into your normal movements, don't just stand there like a wooden post."
The two who were called out looked bitter, yet they didn't even have the strength to argue.
Three days had passed since the Mugen Train incident.
During these three days, Yamada had officially taken over the combat training of the protagonist trio.
"Again!"
Inosuke, who had been lying on the sand, flipped over and scrambled up, two trails of white steam snorting from his nostrils.
Though he had been thrown until he was dizzy, his innate aggressive nature was thoroughly stimulated.
He crouched low, crossing his dual blades in front of him, and charged forward again like a crazed wild boar.
Beast Breathing, Eighth Form: Explosive Rush!
Tanjiro took a deep breath, forcing his aching lungs to push 'Total Concentration: Constant' to its limit as he flanked from the side.
Though Zenitsu was full of resistance, he could only bite the bullet and turn into a yellow bolt of lightning, attempting to launch a surprise attack from Yamada's blind spot.
Faced with the three-way encirclement, Yamada's eyes remained calm. Relying on combat instinct, at the moment the three were about to hit, his body tilted slightly at an angle.
Inosuke's charge grazed the edge of his clothes. Yamada used the withered branch to lightly tap the back of Inosuke's knee. The latter instantly lost his balance and dove headfirst into the mud.
Immediately after, he flicked his hand back, catching the withered branch against the guard of Tanjiro's wooden sword. With a flick of his wrist, a clever surge of force left Tanjiro's hand numb and sent the wooden sword flying.
Finally, he glanced sideways at Zenitsu, who was rushing in as a bolt of lightning. He raised his left leg, stopping it less than a centimeter from Zenitsu's face. The sharp wind from the kick stung Zenitsu's cheek, scaring him into falling flat on his buttocks and letting out a pathetic scream.
"Combat over. Total wipeout."
Yamada casually tossed the withered branch aside and turned toward the corridor.
"Your foundations are still too poor. That's it for this morning's sparring. Go run a hundred laps around the Butterfly Mansion. If you don't finish, no lunch for you."
Watching the three teenagers complain while obediently getting up to run, Shinobu, who had been watching the show from the corridor, handed over a clean towel.
"Aren't you being a bit too harsh on them?" Shinobu watched Yamada wipe his sweat, her tone teasing.
"It's only been three days, and they have so many bruises that even the Butterfly Mansion's special ointment can barely keep up. This doesn't seem like your usual 'too much trouble' style."
"A diamond must be polished to increase its worth."
Yamada draped the towel over his neck and casually picked up a cup of cold tea from the table, draining it in one gulp.
"I don't know when the bait I put out will attract a big fish. Although that coward Muzan was fooled by me, the next ones he sends will definitely be high-ranking core combatants of the Twelve Kizuki. If these three kids can't even last three minutes against me, they won't even have a chance to draw their swords when they encounter a real Upper Rank."
Hearing the words 'Upper Rank,' Shinobu's eyes narrowed slightly. She knew Yamada was telling the truth.
The peace of the Demon Slayer Corps was only temporary. The silence before the storm often meant an even more tragic slaughter was coming.
"Don't worry."
Seemingly seeing the worry in her eyes, Yamada reached out and pinched her fair cheek, it felt delicate and warm.
Before Shinobu could get angry and swat his hand away, he had already withdrawn it.
"If the sky falls, I'll hold it up. You just focus on making your medicine."
Leaving those words behind, Yamada waved his hand and walked toward his guest room.
Shinobu stood there, watching his tall and straight back. The scolding she had prepared got stuck in her throat.
She bit her lower lip, her cheeks slightly flushed, and whispered to herself, "This guy... always so self-centered."