"Master has arrived!"
The familiar announcement sounded from the corridor of the main room.
The Hashira in the courtyard knelt on one knee reflexively, lowering their heads in perfect unison.
The wooden door was slid open and a steady, powerful sound of footsteps echoed on the wooden floor.
Sanemi, kneeling at the very front, was stunned for a moment.
These footsteps were wrong. Usually, Kagaya was supported by his two children, his footsteps unsteady and slow, accompanied by heavy breathing.
But these steps today were as steady as those of a vigorous warrior.
Sanemi subconsciously raised his head. The next second, his pupils contracted sharply, and he was struck as if by lightning, frozen stiff in place.
Not just him, Kyojuro, Tengen, and even the usually expressionless Muichiro, all had their expressions freeze upon seeing the person standing in the corridor.
The person standing there was indeed Kagaya. But the marks on his forehead were gone. In its place was a clean, gentle face.
He did not let anyone support him, standing tall in the sunlight, his clear eyes watching the people in the courtyard gently.
"My children, I have kept you waiting."
Kagaya spoke with a smile, his voice clear and resonant, full of vigor, with no trace of the hoarseness of a broken bellows.
The entire courtyard was dead silent, with only the rustling of the wind through the treetops.
"Master... your eyes... your body..."
Sanemi's mouth hung open, his voice trembling.
He rubbed his eyes hard, almost thinking he had fallen for some bizarre Blood Demon Art.
The short-lived curse that had entangled the Ubuyashiki Family for a millennium—that terminal illness all the Hashira knew about—how could it be cured overnight?
"Namu Amida Butsu..."
Although Gyomei could not see, his keen hearing and perception clearly captured the vigorous vitality pulsing within Kagaya's body. His tears welled up, his hands clasped together, trembling with excitement.
"As you can see."
Kagaya raised his hand to signal that everyone need not panic, his tone filled with undisguisable gratitude. "This is not the mercy of the gods. Rather, it is because someone pulled me back from the abyss of hell."
Kagaya stepped aside, giving up the position behind him.
A tall, slender figure walked slowly out of the shadows of the room.
Yamada stood with one hand in the pocket of his black woolen coat, looking down from above at the horrified Hashira in the courtyard, his expression as lazy and casual as ever.
Shinobu followed behind him. Although she had already seen this scene once, seeing her colleagues with their jaws almost hitting the ground, she couldn't help but let the corners of her lips lift slightly.
"Yamada-san?!"
The gaze of all the Hashira focused instantly on Yamada.
At this moment, the way they looked at Yamada changed completely.
If their previous awe for Yamada was based on his absolute combat power, capable of killing Upper Ranks single-handedly, then now, this awe had sublimated into a near-fanatical faith.
Bringing the dead back to life, regrowing flesh and bones, reversing a millennium-old curse. This had already exceeded the scope of a swordsman, this was the genuine means of a creator.
"Alright, put away those expressions of having never seen the world."
Yamada walked down the steps and cut straight to the point. He had no interest in enjoying their worship, calling them over today was to arrange the hard labor ahead.
"That coward Muzan, after learning the news of Upper Rank Four and Upper Rank Five dying in the Swordsmith Village, has completely severed the connection between the Infinity Castle and the outside world. He is now cowering in his turtle shell, and we cannot find him for the time being."
Yamada stopped, his gaze sweeping over the people kneeling on the ground.
"He is hiding to evolve, to prepare a big move. When he thinks he is sure of dealing with me, that is the moment for an all-out war. And before that, I need you cannon fodder to sharpen your blades a bit more."
Being called "cannon fodder" to their faces, none of the Hashira present felt angry. After witnessing Yamada's power, they knew very well that in battles at that level, they, who hadn't even mastered Transparent World, could indeed only be counted as cannon fodder.
"Yamada-san! May I ask what we need to do!" Kyojuro looked up, his eyes fanatical.
"Demon Slayer Mark. Everyone will activate the Demon Slayer Mark." Yamada spat out a few words, dropping a bombshell into the crowd.
"Among you, currently only Rengoku has barely touched the threshold of the Demon Slayer Mark. For the next period, I will take over all your training. What you need to do is constantly challenge your limits, push your heart rate over two hundred, and raise your body temperature to thirty-nine degrees."
Hearing the conditions for activating the Demon Slayer Mark, the Hashira's expressions tightened.
Obanai frowned and raised the core question, "Regarding the records of the Demon Slayer Mark, ancient books of the Demon Slayer Corps have mentioned it. Anyone who activates the Demon Slayer Mark will, without exception, die of exhaustion before the age of twenty-five. This is a curse of overdrawing one's life in exchange for power. We are naturally not afraid of death, but if we fall before the decisive battle..."
"That was in the past." Yamada interrupted him.
He raised his right hand, palm upward.
A touch of pure emerald light bloomed at his fingertips. The rich vitality contained in that light, even just by diffusing into the air, caused the withered grass and trees in the courtyard to instantly regain their vitality, becoming lush and green again.
Yang Release Chakra.
"As long as you have a breath left, as long as your head hasn't been removed."
Yamada crushed the green light in his palm, looking at them, his tone overbearing and unreasonable.
"However much life you overdraw, I can pour that much back into you. The broken rule of dying at twenty-five—with me here, it's abolished."
This sentence was like an adrenaline shot, stabbing directly into the brains of all the Hashira.
Removing the lifespan limit?!
This meant they could activate the Demon Slayer Mark without any scruples, squandering this power that surpassed their limits without worrying about their bodies collapsing.
This was equivalent to giving the entire Demon Slayer Corps' top combat power an infinite-battery, invincible cheat.
"Since there are no worries, then what reason do we have to retreat?!"
Tengen stood up abruptly, grinning to reveal his white teeth. "How flamboyant! Let us squeeze out all the impurities in our bodies during this special training!"
"I am willing to entrust this broken body to Yamada-san for tempering." Gyomei clasped his hands together, his voice like a tolling bell.
The others also expressed their stances, the fighting spirit in their eyes burning to the peak.
"Very good."
Yamada nodded and turned to look at Kagaya behind him.
"Find a back mountain site that is large enough and highly concealed. Starting tomorrow, the Hashira special training officially begins. If anyone can't hold on and wants to quit halfway..."
Yamada glanced at the crowd, a smile full of mischief appearing on his face. "I will personally help them crush their bones inch by inch."