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Demon Slayer: The Ice Hashira

You already know how it goes. Main character dies in his world only to be reborn during Japan's Sengoku period. An ordinary man, suddenly thrust into an era of war, political strife, demons and demon slayers alongside having a former hashira for a grandpa, unexpectedly happens to go a little insane. Go figure. This story is loosely based off demon slayer. No canon characters will be present and some concepts will be revised. If you're a demon slayer fan, read for the sword fights, new breathing styles and a somewhat fresh take on the premise. If you're not a fan of demon slayer, you can still read as you don't need to know anything about it. In other words, this is an AU As this is my first novel ever please do accept some level of incoherence or inconsistency in my writing Hope you like it. *

sucroseliker · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
36 Chs

Still not enough

Ashikaga watched on with expectant eyes as the sound of clashing metal reverberated through the training grounds.

Her usual impassive expression hung on her face as her eyes followed every little movement the fighters made, scrutinizing over every detail. 

"My money's on the old man." One of her guards said. 

She looked at him, and he gave her a weary smile. "Why do you think that?" She asked.

The man shrugged. "It's obvious, no? He somehow seems… stable, like he's completely comfortable weilding a sword. The kid looks strong, but his movements are unsure of themselves." 

"Like he's never fought before." Another guard chipped in.

Ashikaga sat on a small wooden stool while her guards stood in a semicircle around her. The Fujiki soldiers stood on the opposite side of the dirt-packed arena, essentially giving her and her guards an area all to themselves.

"Hm… I wouldn't say that. He definitely has battle instincts, but something feels… off. Like he keeps trying to get his footwork to work, but ultimately fails." 

Ashikaga nodded quietly, her eyes fixated on Yukiko's sharp and sudden movements. He moved like a raging tempest, with all the finesse of one too. His grandpa, on the other hand, seemed calm, and oddly unbothered. His flowing movements blocked Yukiko's raging attacks with a grace she hadn't seen before. 

Yukiko attempted to take a stance, his sword readied by his side. Yet just as his chest expanded and his eyes steeled, his grandpa took a step closer, closing the distance and positioning his body uncomfortably close to Yukiko, who stumbled backwards from the surprise.

It didn't take much for him to go down after that. A simple low kick swept Yukiko's feet from beneath him, causing him to slam against the muddy earth on his back.

Ashikaga shook her head in disappointment. The duel had already gone on for a few minutes, and it was actually Yukiko's third time falling on his ass.

The Fujiki soldiers let out a cry of disbelief at the scene in front of them. They had done warm ups before the main event, and all of them promptly got their asses handed to them by the young swordsman. Seeing him lose that badly against their instructor who didn't even warm up made a sizable dent in their egos. 

Ashikaga snorted at their childlike behavior. 

"Is this all? Remind me how much time you spent on your training." The old man asked as he stood over Yukiko.

Yukiko defiantly glared at his grandpa, following it up with a kick to the shin which gave him enough time to flip himself back on his feet.

The old man shook his head disapprovingly. "Coward." He simply said.

Yukiko took another stance, this time however, he looked… ready. His leg muscles seemed to tense up as he lowered his center of gravity. He took a deep breath, something he attempted to do the whole duel, but just didn't have the time to, and then readied his sword.

Then he was gone. 

All eyes were on him a second prior, and now all eyes stared at an empty pocket of air where he should've been standing. It didn't take long to spot him again. Some reacted to the ear shattering noise of metal clashing against metal, and some did as Ashikaga did, following the trail of dust and flakes of mud he had kicked up. 

By the time everyone had their eyes back on him, he was already engaged in a deadlock against the old man. Both sides shifted their swords slightly to the side, trying to get an edge over the other, looking for any openings their opponent might leave to sneak in and deliver a blow. However, each attempt at gaining the upper hand was promptly met with a counter that was just as dangerous. 

The flurry of blows continued for what felt like a long ten seconds before Yukiko backed off, getting another stance ready. 

Naturally, the old man did not give him the time of day as he instantly closed the distance with a flowing, almost dance-like step. His sword looked like it curved and bent, as though following the path of a gently flowing river. Their metal collided, the old man's sword hitting against Yukiko's with all the strength of a raging, yet delicate river.

Despite the incredible strength the blow possessed, Yukiko seemed to brush it off as nothing more than a mild annoyance. Something even the old man reacted to with a slight frown. 

He got ready for another swing, this time a horizontal slashing motion. 

Ashikaga's eyes widened with slight terror as the old man's sword perfectly connected with Yukiko's neck. Everyone else let our muted gasps.

Then he was gone again, the sword hitting nothing more than a fading image of an already departed Yukiko. He reappeared a few feet behind where he originally stood, feet drawing long lines as he skid across the mud. 

'What the…' Ashikaga thought. Never before in her life had she seen people move like that. It was almost… superhuman. 'No, scratch that. It is superhuman.'

The bout continued, neither side making progress. The old man would deliver a blow that could kill anyone trying to block it, and Yukiko would parry it with an unnatural ease. To no avail, he attempted to use his own forms, yet almost every time, the old man would simply interrupt him by moving only slightly, not a wasted movement in his step.

Then, Yukiko lowered his sword to his side, narrowly dodging a diagonal swing aimed for his neck by ducking to the side. The sword still grazed his hair, taking a few snow white hair down with it. 

In that split moment, when Yukiko's sword was pointed towards the ground, edge lined up to the old man's head, Ashikaga could swear she saw… something forming on his sword. She blinked, causing her to completely lose track of it. 

Yukiko's hips twisted, his sword zipping towards his opponent in a powerful upwards swing.

The old man narrowly dodged the attack by tilting his head to the side, still the blade was swung with such ferocity and strength that a powerful air turbulence ruffled his long, snow white hair.

Yukiko wasn't quick enough to recover, unfortunately. The old man simply leaned his head in and headbutted his grandson as he was still adjusting his feet.

Stunned, Yukiko was defenseless against the leg sweep that caused him to collapse against the dirt for the fourth time that duel.

But this time, there was no space for getting back up. His grandpa's sword stood sharply against his neck, preventing him from making even the slightest movement.

"It's over." The old man said. "I've seen enough." 

Back against the dirt, Yukiko tightly clenched on the hilt of his sword. 

Ashikaga nodded. It was over. "Looks like you were right." She dismissively said, a slight smirk forming on her face.

The two guards shared a look of satisfaction as they collected a few coins from the other guards.

Yuiko got up, dusting off his hakama pants, though he was going to need another pair. 

The old man smiled slightly. "You did it." 

Ashikaga had never seen Yukiko snap his head at someone faster. His bright red eyes were filled with skepticism.

"Brat, I'm being serious." The old man snorted. "That style fits you. Undeveloped and unrefined as it is, you look more comfortable with it."

Yukiko nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

His grandpa clicked his tongue. "What are you laughing at, brat? You suck. You spend way too much time thinking and not enough time acting. No enemy is gonna give you the time you need to carefully prepare your stance. If I was going serious, you would've been dead before you even finished thinking. Breathing styles aren't a technique you use in isolation with your swordsmanship. It is your swordsmanship. If it doesn't come naturally in a fight, you're better off not using it." 

Yukiko deflated slightly, yet his expression hinted that he was fully expecting the lecture. "Still not enough," He mumbled. 

"Oh, cheer up. You only need some real experience with that style. I'll whip you into shape in no time, have no worry." He said. "Now scuttle off, we'll talk about this later." 

Yukiko walked off the training grounds, sheathing his pure white sword. He spotted Ashikaga looking at him with a speculative gaze.

"What?" He asked, seeing her small lips forming a smirk. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Well," She began. "It seems as though you owe me." 

Yukiko sighed, looking a little conflicted. "I know I said you could pick anyone," He said. "I just didn't expect you to pick him."

Ashikaga shrugged. "Still, you owe me." 

"But still…" 

"You. Owe. Me." 

She stared at him with impassive, yet blazing eyes.

He sighed again, this time looking resigned. "Fine. Your wish is my command."

Ashikaga nodded, satisfied. "I actually need your help."

"Right. Is this you using your wish, or are you asking for a favor?" 

"A favor. I'm saving my wish."

He frowned, nodding for her to continue.

"I need you to take care of my brother."

Yukiko snorted. "I'm not some babysitter. Besides, I won't be sticking around for much longer."

"I know." She simply said.

"You know? Of what?" 

Ashikaga looked at him with her usual strange and droopy eyes. "I know about you. I'm not a fool. Those swords, those movements, even the way you breathe, you're a Demon Slayer, no?" 

Yukiko stiffened. "How do you know?" 

"That, is where my brother comes in. He wishes to become a Demon Slayer by taking the exam. I want you to make sure he doesn't die."

Frowning, Yukiko leaned in. "That's a heavy request, miss. Why should I accept this favor?" 

"Because I am asking you to." Ashikaga said. "Is that not good enough?" 

Yukiko thought for a second. "You know what? Fine." 

"Really? I must say, that was rather easy."

He smiled. "I am quite easy to convince, besides, there's nothing better to do."

"You could simply not fight." Ashikaga said. "There's always that."

Yukiko shook his head. "No. I have to fight." He said.

"A vengeance for demons?"

"Nothing like that." 

"Then what? What motivates you to fight?"

Yukiko remained quiet for a while, his gaze fixated on the clouds above. "Sometimes, I can hear this world. The earth beneath your feet, the trees, the mountains. All of them have voices, and I can hear them. Some are spiritual, like the connection between me and this world, but some are... literal" He said, thinking of the voices in the mountain.

"And what do they say?" Ashikaga carefully asked.

He looked at her, his bright red eyes holding a certain intensity.

"Fight."