61 Chapter 61: Unlucky Gyokko.
...
In the distance, the green forest was caressed by the breeze under the setting sun.
At the entrance of the village of swordsmiths.
After lingering at the entrance for a while, a circle of swordsmiths wearing masks had gathered around Himejima Gyomei.
They leaned together, looked up, and looked at Himejima Gyomei, who was over two meters tall, and talked in surprise.
"Hey... this guy, he's really tall...!"
"What kind of sword should be used? A large naginata?"
"Is he a hashira..."
It seems that these swordsmiths have not seen Himejima Gyomei in person before.
"Namu..."
Himejima Gyomei, who was being watched, stood among the people, his hands clasped together, as steady as a rock —— he didn't say a word.
At the same time, Gyomei also noticed Tanjuro, who was standing far away, preparing to squeeze in from the main gate.
His pale eyes looked in the direction of Tanjuro, and he nodded slightly.
——Compared to the last time I saw him, his vitality is several times stronger.
——What... happened?
He, who was born blind, had forged an unparalleled sense of perception later in life.
Recalling the sudden burst of vitality he sensed in Tanjuro during the Hashira Meeting, Gyomei felt increasingly puzzled.
The 'Kakushi' members who brought the two of them were helping each other and slowly leaving the vicinity.
At this moment.
"Everyone! Make way!"
"Those two over there!"
A man wearing a comical Warding mask squeezed out of the crowded crowd at the door, he waved at Himejima Gyomei and Tanjuro:
"Both of you are also hashira coming to forge swords this time, right?"
"Please follow me——!"
Without saying much, he waved his hand and led the two of them through the surrounding crowd.
...
On the street.
On both sides were neatly arranged houses, most of them two stories high, and the open first floor could faintly hear the sound of iron forging.
Tanjuro and Himejima Gyomei walked along, and everyone they passed cast surprised glances.
"Is this the first time for both of you to come to the Swordsmith Village?"
"I haven't seen them before."
The man wearing the comical Warding mask spoke in a high tone, he kept talking:
"You can call me Tecchin."
"I am the assistant to the village chief, and also a swordsmith —— my sword forging skills are second only to the village chief!"
Tecchin walked in front of the two, the light from the houses on the side of the street shone on his red fireman mask, the two round patterned eyes looked particularly amusing:
"There is already a hashira in the guest room, everyone should know."
"Since it's getting late, you two can go to the guest room to rest first."
But in his endless talk, the only response he got was Gyomei occasionally saying "Namu".
Soon, Tecchin stopped in front of a building, he turned around:
"This is where you will be staying tonight, there is also a hot spring nearby, I won't bother you anymore, goodbye."
After speaking, Tecchin bowed to the two of them, then strolled away along the street.
...
The night gradually deepened.
The moon rose from the horizon, and warm light gradually lit up on the side of the street.
Guest room on the second floor.
Tanjuro and Himejima Gyomei stood in front of the guest room, silent for a long time.
"Kamado-san..." The first to break this silence was Himejima Gyomei.
He gently held up the Buddhist beads in his hand, his tone carried an apology:
"Ah..."
Gyomei said, two lines of clear tears flowed from his eyes again, his robust body seemed to make his tear ducts also become developed:
"I'm sorry... about last time..."
"At the Hashira Meeting..."
Saying this, he suddenly fell silent for a moment, and the prayer beads in his hand also stopped.
During the last hashira Meeting.
He actually saw a faint reflection of himself in Tanjuro.
He was also extremely weak in the past.
Those children, because of his weakness, chose to run away when they encountered a demon, instead of hiding behind him.
Click.
He moved the prayer beads in his hand.
He also chose not to believe in Tanjuro at the hashira Meeting.
"It's okay." Tanjuro took a step forward, he walked into the guest room, put his hand on the door, and looked back at Gyomei who was standing in place:
"I probably understand your thoughts, if it were me, I would do the same."
Himejima Gyomei was slightly stunned, he looked up at Tanjuro's back, two lines of clear tears never stopped flowing:
"...Namu."
He slightly lowered his head, raised the prayer beads in his hand, and pressed it against his forehead:
"Amitabha..."
Hearing Gyomei's chanting, Tanjuro turned his head back, and opened the door of the guest room with a pull.
Creak——!
Inside the house.
Bang!
A somewhat flustered figure with flame-red hair quickly put down the pot in his hand, subconsciously turned his head to glance at the door of the guest room.
In the brightly lit room, a table was placed in the middle of the room.
Under the light, Rengoku Shinjuro, with his incredibly bright hair color, looked at the door in surprise, holding a pot in his hand, his mouth glistening.
Kamado Tanjuro, Himejima Gyomei, Rengoku Shinjuro, the three of them looked at each other.
After a while.
"...I'm drinking tea." Shinjuro stared at the two of them, he raised the pot in his hand, and blurted out such a sentence.
Tanjuro didn't speak, he silently walked into the room and sat in the corner.
Himejima Gyomei followed closely, casually closed the door, and silently chanted "Namu".
Tanjuro is naturally quiet.
Himejima Gyomei silently recites sutras.
Rengoku Shinjuro, feeling somewhat guilty because of his previous decadence, held the neck of the teapot in silence.
For a moment.
The atmosphere in the room was slightly stiff.
...
...
Meanwhile.
Not far from the village of swordsmiths.
In the dark forest.
Moonlight seeped through the gaps between the leaves and sprinkled on the ground, faintly glowing.
A clean porcelain pot suddenly appeared on the ground, swaying slightly.
A voice talking to itself echoed in the pot.
"What's the matter with Hantengu...?" Gyokko's sharp voice rang out, sounding very strange in the dark forest:
"Why hasn't he arrived yet...?!"
As he spoke, the pitch-black pot at the entrance of the cave bounced on the ground in annoyance.
But soon, he calmed down.
"Well... this is exactly what I want..."
Creak...
With a pair of tender and pale hands reaching out of the pot, Gyokko crawled out of the pot in a weird posture.
He straightened his body, the amber pupils growing in the position of his mouth reflected the brightly lit town not far away.
"A mere human stronghold, I alone am enough..."
Gyokko's tone became more and more excited, he shook his body pathologically:
"After all, I am an Upper Rank!"
The next moment.
Swish!
Along with the pot, Gyokko disappeared into the forest.
...
In the guest room.
Rengoku Shinjuro sat in front of the table, he took out his former Nichirin Sword, the unsheathed sword reflected his thick eyebrows.
The sword that should have been sharp is now pitted.
At this moment.
Clang!
Suddenly, a crisp impact sound came from the ceiling.
It seems to be—the collision of porcelain and tiles.
In the room.
Himejima, Shinjuro, Tanjuro, the three of them quickly looked at each other.
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