Jon stood amidst the chaos, his eyes wide with a mixture of concern and awe. Igris, his faithful mount, had just finished what many would have thought impossible—devouring the formidable Muzan, the progenitor of demons.
Jon's mind raced with the implications. "Normally, if a human ingested even a trace of Muzan's blood, they would turn into a demon," he murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.
But before Jon could even step forward, Igris had already consumed Muzan's body entirely. "This guy... sure is quick!" Jon exclaimed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the gravity of the situation.
Suddenly, a chime echoed in the recesses of his mind—a system notification that seemed to pierce the silence of the aftermath. [Ding! Your mount "Igris" has awakened a new ability. Would you like to check now? Yes/No...]
Jon's heart skipped a beat. "New function?" he questioned aloud, his curiosity piqued. He selected "Yes" with a mental command, and the explanation unfolded before his mind's eye.
[Max Devouring], the ability's name read, as straightforward as it was profound. It was a power born from the ashes of Muzan's demise, a gift to Igris for his voracious conquest. This ability promised not just an enhancement of strength and prowess but a metamorphosis in form—a dragon's ascension to a grander, more imposing visage.
A surge of excitement washed over Jon. "Incredible," he whispered, his voice tinged with a newfound respect for his mount. Igris had always been a formidable ally, but with this evolution, the possibilities were endless.
Jon's thoughts drifted to the dragons of other realms, the majestic and awe-inspiring creatures like Smaug, whose very presence commanded respect and fear. Igris, a fire dragon from the Harry Potter universe, had always lacked that imposing aura. Jon had considered seeking a new mount, one that could match the dragons of legend, but his bond with Igris was not something he could easily cast aside.
But now, with the [Max Devouring], perhaps he wouldn't have to. If Igris could evolve, could transform into a dragon of legend, then the need for a new mount would be moot. Jon could already envision the magnificent creature Igris could become, a dragon to rival even Smaug in grandeur.
A new resolve settled in Jon's heart. "Hmm... there's another thing to do, and that's to make a trip to the Swordsmith Village to get that Nichirin Sword of Yoriichi Tsugikuni!" he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his determination.
With a final glance at the place where Muzan had fallen, Jon recalled Igris to his side. Together, they would embark on this new journey, a path that would lead them to greater heights and, perhaps, to the very pinnacle of evolution itself.
And with that, Jon stepped away from the world of the magical suitcase, his mind alight with the remaining tasks in this universe.
***
Upon returning to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters, Jon was enveloped in the warmth of a hero's welcome. The air was filled with relief and the quiet joy of a hard-won peace. The centuries-long struggle between the Demon Slayers and demons had finally drawn to a close; the night's terror had been extinguished, and the dawn of a new era had broken.
After exchanging heartfelt greetings with Kanae, whose eyes shone with unshed tears of gratitude, Jon sought out the lord of the Corps, Kagaya Ubuyashiki. The meeting was one of reverence and mutual respect.
Kagaya's transformation was nothing short of miraculous. The burn scars that had once etched a map of suffering across his visage had faded into the annals of history, leaving behind a countenance of striking handsomeness. It was as if the curse that had plagued the Ubuyashiki lineage had dissipated with Muzan's demise, lifting the shadow that had been cast upon them for generations.
After a moment of silent acknowledgment of the profound change, Kagaya expressed his deep gratitude to Jon. "Your bravery has not only saved countless lives but has also restored my family's honor," he said, his voice tinged with emotion.
Jon, ever the pragmatist, wasted no time in stating his terms. "Ubuyashiki-sama, I seek your permission to use the training battle doll in the Swordsmith Village," he said, his voice steady and sure.
Kagaya's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "May I inquire as to your intentions with Yoriichi Type Zero?" he asked, his tone gentle yet probing.
Jon's response was filled with the passion of a warrior seeking to hone his craft. "The prototype of that swordsman, Yoriichi Tsugikuni, was a legend who taught the Breathing Styles to the Demon Slayer Corps. The craftsman sought to immortalize his swordsmanship, bestowing upon the doll six arms to mimic his unparalleled skill."
Kagaya nodded, acknowledging the truth in Jon's words. "Indeed, the doll is a masterpiece of our history."
Jon leaned forward, his eyes alight with strategic fire. "Such a battle doll, if deployed in battle, would be a formidable ally, would it not?" he pressed.
The lord shook his head, a wistful sadness in his eyes. "Jon-san, the matter is not so simple. Yoriichi Type Zero can indeed replicate the sword techniques of our esteemed ancestor, but it lacks the very soul of our fight—the Breathing Styles. A doll, no matter how intricately designed, cannot harness the essence of the sun or the dance of the water. It serves as a mentor of steel, not a comrade in arms. Furthermore, the doll is a relic of the Sengoku period, its creation a lost art. Should it suffer damage, it may be beyond repair."
"Well…" Jon's smile held a hint of confidence as he addressed Kagaya Ubuyashiki, "What if I say I can fix it, and I can make it usable on the battlefield?"
Kagaya's expression shifted from one of gentle dismissal to keen interest. Jon's claim was bold, and it hung in the air between them, a challenge to the realm of possibility.
"What, does the lord not believe me?" Jon's smile widened, his eyes glinting with the thrill of potential.
Kagaya shook his head, his voice tinged with a mixture of respect and skepticism. "Please forgive me, Jon-san. It's not a question of belief. Your feats are well known to us, and they border on the miraculous. It's just that with Muzan's demise and the demon threat extinguished, I struggle to see the purpose of deploying Yoriichi Type Zero in battle."
Jon leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Who says that only demons pose a threat to this world?"
The pause that followed was pregnant with implication. Jon continued, his words painting a picture of a world teeming with hidden dangers. "I've eliminated ghostly black wizards in England, punished gangsters, and fought aliens in Manhattan, New York. There are countless organizations, akin to the Demon Slayer Corps, operating in the shadows to protect the world. The masses live in blissful ignorance, believing they control their fate, while in truth, they sleep peacefully unaware of the battles fought on their behalf."
Kagaya's eyes widened slightly, a testament to his surprise. "Seeing your surprised expression, don't you believe it?" Jon asked, a playful note in his voice.
With a helpless smile, Kagaya conceded, "I may not be familiar with these names you speak of, but I believe in you, Jon-san. That is why I am surprised."
Jon inwardly marveled at Kagaya's perceptiveness. The lord was indeed astute, almost like a human lie detector. It was fortunate that Jon had anticipated this and prepared his speech accordingly.
Kagaya's demeanor softened, and he gave his assent with a nod. "In light of this, I am reassured to entrust Yoriichi Type Zero to someone of your caliber. Please, join us for lunch today, and afterward, I will arrange for your escort to the Swordsmith Village."
Jon agreed, his plans aligning perfectly with the lord's offer.
After a meal shared in the spirit of camaraderie and gratitude, Jon was escorted by members of a covert division to the Swordsmith Village. There, under the guidance of the village blacksmith, he laid eyes on the battle doll, Yoriichi Type Zero.
Jon, familiar with the lore from the original work, knew that the Nichirin Blade of Yoriichi Tsugikuni—the very weapon he sought—was concealed within the battle doll. It was this knowledge that had driven him to seek it out.
The doll itself was a remarkable sight, a youthful effigy of Yoriichi Tsugikuni, complete with six arms to accommodate six blades at its waist and back. It was a silent homage to the legendary swordsman whose skills were so transcendent that only a multi-armed simulacrum could hope to emulate the movements of his prime.
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