Meeting The Master
The sun finally rose, it's light covering the forest in its warmth.
As the echoes of the battle faded and the dust began to settle, silence returned to the wounded forest. But for Tanjiro Kamado and Inosuke Hashibira, there was no calm—only awe, fear, and confusion swirling in their blood.
Tanjiro, cradling Kyojurou's barely breathing body, stared across the ravaged battlefield. His wide, teary eyes were locked on the crimson figure that had effortlessly overwhelmed the Upper Moon.
The presence of Ares—The Scarlet King—still clung to the air like a storm that refused to pass. His body trembled—not just from injury, but from the weight of what he had just witnessed.
"That... wasn't breathing technique," Tanjiro whispered, voice shaking.
"He didn't draw a blade. He didn't even flinch."
His hand clenched over Rengoku's bloodied uniform.
"He stopped Akaza. He stopped him like he was nothing."
His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum. He'd fought demons. He'd seen death. But this was different. This wasn't just strength—this was dominion.
"Was he human?" Tanjiro asked, more to himself than anyone else.
"Or something else entirely?"
Inosuke, meanwhile, stood a few steps behind, his mask nearly falling off his face, mouth agape beneath it.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" he shouted, voice cracking.
"Did you SEE him?! That guy turned Akaza into a RAGDOLL! BANG! BAM! KABOOM! Like a—like a giant playing with a beetle!"
He stomped a foot into the dirt, wild eyes darting from Ares's silhouette to the shattered trees and pulverized earth.
"I was ready to jump in and go out like a warrior—but then THAT guy showed up! And just—BAM! He caught the katana AND the punch!"
He paused, punching the air in exaggerated slow motion.
"Who does that?! Who can do that?!"
Inosuke's shoulders rose and fell, his hands shaking from the adrenaline crash. But even he—loud, brash, fearless Inosuke—felt it. The same thing Akaza had felt.
"Fear."
Not fear of death, but of something ancient. Something beyond his understanding.
Then, after a pause, he muttered:
"Tch. I need to get stronger... or I'll never even scratch a monster like that."
Tanjiro looked at him, nodding slowly.
"Not all monsters are evil," he murmured. "But that one... He's not just strong. He has a purpose."
He turned his gaze toward the crimson man and his companions.
"The way he looked at Akaza... it wasn't hate. It was like a god dissecting a bug."
He exhaled shakily.
"That wasn't a fight. That was a warning."
As they finished their talk, Ares and the others soon laid their eyes on tanjiro's group, now accompanied by the fidgeting Zenitsu, carrying a large box on his back.
The weak breathing of Rengoku could be heard, upon seeing him, nephis stepped forward, the boys couldn't do anything but stare as her hands lit with white flames, she gently pressed her hand on his chest, then the light intensified as rengoku was healed anew, deep into unconsciousness.
The flames didn't stop, they flowed into the others, healing them of their injuries, tanjiro could finally breath with ease.
He would've thought they were demons, yet their smell proved otherwise, which made him confused at their abilities.
"You're a demon slayer, right?" Spoke Ares, his eyes focused on tanjiro.
"Y-yes sir!" He answered in a hurry
"Send a message then, I would like to meet your boss." Ares smiled faintly, eyes glancing at a certain crow a distance away from them.
.
.
.
.
The message reached its destination faster than expected. Not long after, several individuals arrived in dark uniforms with white-trimmed masks. They didn't say much—just handed over blindfolds and earplugs, explaining that it was a safety measure. Their base had to stay hidden, even from allies.
Ares gave a small nod. "Understood."
The others didn't protest. They put the blindfolds on and followed without question.
---
When the blindfolds came off, the group found themselves standing in front of a traditional Japanese estate. The mansion was big but quiet, surrounded by a peaceful garden with wisteria trees, raked white gravel, bonsai trees, and a koi pond with large stones set around it. The whole place felt calm, almost too calm given the world outside.
As Ares steps through the gate's threshold, his gaze first falls on a low dais where Kagaya Ubuyashiki, their master, sits in serene repose. Before him, eight Hashira are seated in perfect formation, all on the polished stone floor, backs straight, legs folded in seiza. Even at rest, each one's element seems to pulse through their posture.
"Welcome, Ares, my name is Kagaya Ubuyashiki, I am the head of the demon slayer corps, I heard you wanted to meet me?"
"You've heard true, master kagaya, I've heard about your demon corps on our travels, and I would like to discuss somethings with you." Ares said without bowing down, eyes piercing through Kagaya, much to the displeasure of the hashira.
"I see...I would like to thank you for saving Rengoku and the others" he bowed his head a little, showing his thankfulness for saving one of his pillars, before continuing with a soft voice.
"Before starting the discussion, I would like to present to you the pillars of our demon slayer corps."
"Water Pillar, Giyu Tomioka"
Kneeling directly before Kagaya, Giyu's dark-blue hair spills over his shoulders. His half-and-half haori rests neatly around him, the patterned side glowing softly in the torchlight. His deep-blue eyes lock onto Ares without a trace of emotion, as still and inscrutable as a tranquil pool.
"Sound Pillar, Tengen Uzui"
Tengen's seiza was loose —heels tucked to one side—allowing his muscular arms to rest comfortably on his thighs. His jeweled headband catches faint light, and the chains of his twin blades lie coiled neatly beside him. His magenta eyes sparkle, as if amused by this grand audience.
"Love Pillar, Mitsuri Kanroji"
Mitsuri sits with grace, her pastel braid coiled across one shoulder and spilling onto the floor. Her modified uniform leaves her arms bare, hinting at hidden strength. Her bright green eyes soften at the edges, curiosity and warmth glowing even in this solemn setting.
"Mist Pillar, Muichiro Tokito"
Muichiro's form is almost lost in a swirl of pale mist drifting around his seated frame. His oversized sleeves pool at his sides, and his long black-blue hair brushes the ground. His vacant pale eyes seem focused on some distant horizon beyond the hall.
"Wind Pillar, Sanemi Shinazugawa"
Sanemi sits rigidly, back straight, fists resting on his thighs. His cropped white hair and scarred torso are on full display, the ragged edges of his haori whispering of past battles. His pale-green eyes flare with restless energy, as though he's eager to spring to his feet at any provocation.
"Stone Pillar, Gyomei Himejima"
Gyomei occupies a central spot before Kagaya, seated with legs folded and massive prayer beads draped over his shoulders. Though his eyes remain closed, tears glint on his cheeks. His immense form radiates a calm gravity, as immutable as the earth itself.
"Serpent Pillar, Obanai Iguro"
Obanai sits precisely, every line of his body taut, as if coiled. His striped haori fits snugly around him, and his pale serpent rests coiled in his lap. One gold eye, one turquoise, fixed unwaveringly on Ares, ready to strike with silent judgment.
"Insect Pillar, Shinobu Kocho"
At the end of the line, Shinobu's seiza is almost casual—ankles crossed lightly. Her butterfly-wing haori flutters gently, as though caught in a breeze only she perceives. Her violet eyes glint with a serene smile, hiding the razor-sharp intellect beneath.
In that ordered silence, the Hashira sit as one—pillars of their elements—before their master, every gaze turned to the newcomer who dares stand before them.
Ares's gaze swept across the gathered pillars, his scarlet eyes indifferent yet aware. He lingered for a moment on the man whose face was half-consumed by rot. Despite his near blindness, the women flanking him—his children—whispered what his own eyes could not see.
Once the introductions were done, Kagaya spoke again, his voice like wind brushing through leaves.
"Now then… shall we begin the discussion?"
Ares gave a nod, stepping slightly forward, his posture straight, yet relaxed.
"Then I'll speak plainly," he said, voice deep and calm. "We're willing to offer our strength whenever your Corps has need of it. In exchange, we wish to learn your… techniques."
That calm was soon broken by a voice that cut through the air like a blade.
"Your strength?!" Sanemi's harsh voice dripped with disdain. "Tell me, do you even know what a breathing technique is?!"
The annoyance in his tone was unmistakable. Ares's brows furrowed ever so slightly at the interruption—but his eyes didn't so much as flick toward Sanemi. He remained still, composed, speaking as though the Wind Pillar's outburst wasn't even worth acknowledging.
"…We do not," Ares admitted, tone steady. "But I assure you—we are capable."
That dismissal stoked the flames.
"Hah—HAHAHAHA!" Sanemi let out a wild, mocking laugh, slamming a fist against his knee. "We need your strength?! Some brat who doesn't even know how to breathe properly thinks he can help us?! Are you trying to mock us?!"
The veins across his neck and arms bulged with barely restrained rage, his entire posture coiled like a spring ready to snap.
"Sanemi…" Kagaya's voice was soft, but the authority it carried was absolute.
Sanemi bit down a sharp breath and fell silent, though his glare remained sharp enough to cut steel.
"My apologies, Master," he muttered. "But I see no reason to trust them. They don't even know the basics. How can they possibly assist us?"
It was a fair question, and an unspoken agreement settled across the other Hashira. Many of them shared the same skepticism. Their entire lives had been shaped through relentless training, their bodies and souls honed through years of blood and battle. Mastering Total Concentration Breathing and their individual styles had cost them everything. It wasn't something they could teach freely—especially not to outsiders.
And now, here stood a group of strangers—claiming to be allies, asking to learn everything.
Some suspected exaggeration about the battle with Akaza. Yes, they had heard whispers—a crimson figure defeating an Upper Moon. But perhaps Rengoku had weakened the demon first. Or worse… perhaps it was all staged. A ruse. What if this red-haired man was a demon collaborator planted to infiltrate them?
Still… no proof. And Rengoku remained unconscious.
"They could be enemies," came another voice, sharp and suspicious, its source the man with the snake like eyes. "What if the demons sent them to earn our trust? We should bind them until we know the truth."
"The hell did you just say?!"
Sunny's voice rang out, sharp as a dagger. Her body tensed, dark eyes ablaze with fury. To call them demons… to mock their offer, their presence—that was too far.
Before she could act, a hand reached out and stopped her. Ares. Calm and firm.
He stepped forward.
"You have a right to doubt us," he said coolly. "Then let us show you. A demonstration. A sparring match."
At last, Ares's crimson gaze locked onto Sanemi's. The challenge was clear.
Sanemi grinned like a mad dog. "Oh? You challenging me now?" He stood up slowly, the wind around him stirring like a storm answering his mood. "Kagaya-sama, allow me to show him reality."
"Enough, Sanemi."
Kagaya's gentle command cut off the rising storm. Sanemi clicked his tongue, irritated, but held back. All the while, a small, satisfied smile flickered on the master's lips. His intent to test the strangers was progressing as planned.
"My apologies, Ares-san," Kagaya said with soft sincerity. "My children are merely cautious. They only wish to confirm your strength."
"It's not a problem," Ares replied plainly, his voice devoid of hesitation. It wasn't confidence—it was certainty. The kind that turned even mountains into ash.
Sanemi's knuckles whitened at the calm tone. That smug calmness.
"Tch… If you're really that strong, you won't mind if I use my blade, right?"
He stepped forward with a sneer, the wind rising as his hand reached for the weapon at his side. He drew his Nichirin blade in a single flash, the steel humming with pressure, the edge whistling with the fury of a thousand gales.
"Use everything you've got," Ares replied, finally rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms in an idle gesture.
His crimson armor shifted with the movement, glinting faintly in the filtered sunlight.
"Or you'll regret it."