Chapter 57: Prelude to Catastrophe — Training Before the Storm

The forest path was eerily silent as the Hashira, Tanjiro's group, and Saitama made their way toward the eastern lands. The air itself seemed heavier with every step they took. Even Inosuke, who usually never stopped talking, was unusually quiet — his instincts screaming at him that something was terribly wrong ahead.

"We can't rush into this blindly," Giyuu finally broke the silence. "If this demon is as ancient as the crows said, charging in recklessly will only get us killed."

"I agree," Shinobu nodded. "We need to sharpen our techniques — even Saitama should understand how dangerous unknown enemies can be."

Saitama scratched his head. "Honestly, I just punch stuff and it works out, but… if you guys want to train, I guess I'll join."

Rengoku grinned. "Then let us forge ourselves into flames that will burn through any darkness!"

Zenitsu was trembling. "T-training again? But we just got through the last fight! Can't we have, like, one nap first?"

"Absolutely not," Sanemi snapped. "You'll die first if you don't take this seriously."

"Wouldn't be the first time Zenitsu passed out and somehow saved everyone," Tanjiro said with a small smile.

"True," Mitsuri giggled. "But let's aim for survival without fainting this time!"

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The Training Begins

They found a secluded clearing, wide enough for sparring but close enough to the river for water training. The Hashira split into pairs, teaching Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke advanced techniques to strengthen their weaknesses.

Tanjiro focused on enhancing his Sun Breathing's speed — trying to keep up with Giyuu's fluid Water Breathing movements.

Zenitsu practiced combining his thunderclap speed with unpredictable directional shifts, guided by Obanai.

Inosuke... well, he wrestled with a tree, screaming that it was "good training for his beast instincts." Surprisingly, Sanemi approved.

Nezuko, although staying behind earlier, suddenly appeared, insisting she wanted to train too — and Mitsuri happily took her under her wing.

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Saitama's Special Training?

"Oi, Baldy, what about you?" Sanemi asked, cracking his knuckles. "Do you even need to train?"

Saitama stood at the edge of the clearing, staring into the distance. His expression was unreadable.

"Maybe," Saitama said softly. "I haven't fought something this ancient before. If it's too strong, I'll have to punch harder. But if it's too weak… that's what bothers me."

Rengoku clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Then let us prepare for both outcomes, my friend! Join me for a spar — I would love to see the full might of a hero from another world!"

Saitama sighed. "Alright, but if your sword breaks, don't blame me."

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Saitama vs Rengoku — Friendly Spar

The others paused their training to watch as Rengoku unsheathed his sword, flames dancing along its edge.

"Flame Breathing: First Form — Unknowing Fire!"

Rengoku dashed forward, a blazing arc cutting toward Saitama. Without moving his feet, Saitama raised a single finger — blocking the strike effortlessly.

The ground cracked beneath Rengoku's feet from the force, but Saitama didn't even budge.

"Not bad," Saitama said. "You're fast."

Rengoku grinned. "Then let me show you my real speed."

In a blur, Rengoku unleashed a flurry of strikes — each faster than the last. Saitama dodged lazily, hands in his pockets. The entire clearing glowed with flames, and yet Saitama's cape didn't even catch fire.

"Your form is amazing," Saitama said, finally raising a fist. "But I fight differently."

He punched — not at Rengoku, but into the air beside him. The sheer force of the wind pressure blasted Rengoku backward, slamming him into a tree.

Everyone froze.

"Oops," Saitama muttered. "I held back too much."

Rengoku coughed, laughing. "Magnificent! What power! I could feel my soul tremble!"

The others were speechless.

"Alright, training over," Saitama announced. "You guys keep practicing. I'm gonna take a nap."

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The Shadows Stir

As the group continued their training late into the night, a pair of crimson eyes watched from the trees. The ancient demon, Sin, observed silently, its mask shifting with countless tortured faces.

"They prepare well," Sin whispered to itself. "But nothing can prepare them for the sins they carry."

A long, skeletal hand reached into the earth, pulling out a blade made from solidified hatred.

"Let the training end. Let the reckoning begin."

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To Be Continued...

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End of chapter