Disclaimer: Demon Slayer is not mine. This fanfic is a translation.
Enjoy Reading!
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By now, the wall of the Butterfly Mansion that had been climbed by wisteria vines had long since collapsed into rubble, and the courtyard was littered with scattered broken stones.
Among the rubble lay half of a Nichirin blade with a flame pattern.
"Huff… huff…"
Out of breath, Shinjuro stood up firmly on the shattered roof tiles, his striking fiery red hair now covered in a layer of dust.
The clothes on his chest had a long tear, exposing the skin of his upper body, making him look quite disheveled.
In his hand, only half of his Nichirin blade with a flame pattern remained.
He frowned as he could see among the rubble lay half of his Nichirin blade.
It was brand new, too.
Beside him, Gyomei stood gripping the chain of his flail, also covered in dust.
Their clothes were worse for wear, with long tears that exposed their skin. Shinjuro's scars throb as his body didn't appreciate being thrown like a ragdoll.
If Shinjuro hadn't used the blade to deflect and absorb the force of Muzan's attack, his chest would likely have been torn open.
'I see.'
Shinjuro's orange-red eyes reflected the figure of Muzan standing motionless across from him.
Now, he fully understood why even that man four hundred years ago hadn't been able to kill Muzan.
However.
Shinjuro glanced sideways toward the opposite rooftop.
Tanjuro was slowly laying Tanjiro down on the ground.
Shinjuro looked away.
Their mission to buy time was complete.
A wave of relief washed over his tense, anxious heart.
"…Tch."
Muzan hung his head low, his crimson eyes rapidly scanning left and right.
Finally, his gaze locked onto the crouching figure of Tanjuro.
The achingly familiar dark red haori pierced Muzan's eyes like a sharp needle!
That man had made it back!
Alarm bells rang loudly in Muzan's mind.
His already scrambled thoughts became even more panicked.
—Run!
The fleshy tendrils extending from his back were slowly retracting.
He didn't have time to figure out exactly what was happening, nor did he heed the scent of the Blue Spider Lily that was practically right under his nose.
Muzan fixed his stare at Tanjuro's back.
His breathing grew rapid, but his body was stiff and immobile. His seven brains worked quickly.
In the midst of this life-or-death crisis, Muzan instantly conceived a perfect escape plan!
He tentatively shifted his body sideways.
Seeing that Tanjuro still had his back turned.
"Damn it!"
Muzan's fingertips trembled slightly. He gritted his teeth.
He cautiously took a step back.
Bang!!
A sudden, violent explosion came from behind him, followed by a strong wind laced with dust that swept over him.
Two figures appeared briefly for a moment before vanishing from sight.
Muzan's face turned pale. His nerves, already on edge, were jolted.
The wind and sand tugged at his clothes, but he didn't dare turn around to see what had happened.
He could only hold his breath, frozen in place, staring ahead at Tanjuro's standing figure.
"It's good that you're safe."
Tanjuro stood up, using the Transparent World to examine Tanjiro's condition. Finding no serious problems, he slowly breathed a sigh of relief.
After hearing the news of Muzan's appearance, he had rushed all the way here, not even having had time to digest the battle memories and rebirth from his fight with Doma.
"Good work, you two."
His gaze passed over Shinjuro and Gyomei, settling on Muzan. Tanjuro regulated his breathing.
"Leave it to me."
The eyes of the man and the demon met in mid-air.
!!
Muzan's pupils contracted sharply. His face turned a ghastly pale from fright, and his seven moving hearts abruptly stopped for an instant.
No time to split!
He opened his mouth to shout.
"Nakime, save—!!"
A faint shadow of a Japanese sliding door appeared beneath his feet.
Shing – Squelch!
A fist, blue in color, suddenly burst through Muzan's chest from behind. Immense force slammed into Muzan, causing him to stumble forward uncontrollably.
"Bluaagh!" Muzan's eyes trembled. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his expression one of disbelief as he slightly turned his head to look behind him.
What greeted his eyes was a face both deeply familiar and yet foreign.
Recognizing the newcomer, Muzan's pupils constricted.
"Go rot in hell, you scum!"
Hakuji's lips curled into a confident, sunny smile. He clenched his fist, and on his forehead was a piece of paper with a pattern of eyes drawn on it.
As he spoke, Hakuji squeezed and shattered the test tube in his fist. Green liquid exploded inside Muzan's body.
This was the medicine developed by Tamayo.
It was a drug that could turn demons back into humans and effectively suppress Muzan's ability to split.
"Akaza!"
Muzan's pupils quaked violently. His brow furrowed, as if he couldn't understand why Akaza was here right now.
"You!"
"Long time no see… Muzan."
A calloused hand gripped Muzan's shoulder, seemingly to prevent him from escaping.
Muzan instinctively turned his head, glancing along the direction of the arm.
When the familiar six crimson eyes of Kokushibo met his gaze.
"Kokushibo?!" Muzan choked out in disbelief, his voice instinctively lowering to a hoarse whisper.
Neither of you died?!
But why couldn't he sense them?!
His blurred gaze fell on Hakuji's fist embedded in his chest.
Muzan didn't understand.
He didn't understand why the Blue Spider Lily had so conveniently grown on the mountain behind Tanjuro's house.
He didn't understand why Tanjuro could live for nearly four hundred years.
He didn't understand. When had the two Upper Moons before him betrayed him?
These thoughts echoed in his mind, leaving Muzan's already chaotic thoughts even more bewildered.
He only had a vague feeling that he had somehow fallen into a massive conspiracy.
Seizing the moment Muzan was lost in thought.
Click.
Tanjuro drew the crimson immortal severance blade from his back.
His expression was calm as he lightly pushed off the ground.
Shing!
Holding the crimson longsword at an angle, he instantly appeared before Muzan.
Muzan suddenly found his vision overshadowed by a rapidly approaching silhouette.
"Wait!!"
Feeling the sudden gale, Muzan turned his head in terror, but his body was pinned down firmly by Kokushibo. He could only shout helplessly.
"I…"
But the slash of the Fushigiri seemed far faster than Muzan's reaction speed.
Muzan had barely reached out his palm to block the incoming attack.
Squelch!
The sound of a blade cutting flesh rang out.
The longsword, wreathed in a crimson aura, sliced through Muzan's palm and plunged straight into his armpit, cleaving his arm in two!
Tanjuro didn't let up. Instead, he forcefully twisted the hilt of the sword with both hands, turning the vertically slashing blade within Muzan's armpit.
Aiming for his neck.
Unprecedented, intense pain shot horizontally from his shoulder.
"AAAAHHHH——!!"
Muzan's face contorted in agony. His voice was hoarse, emitting a scream that made eardrums tingle.
His crimson pupils instantly contracted to pinpricks!
Perhaps the pain shattered all other thoughts, allowing his survival instinct to take over once more.
The ethereal wooden door beneath his feet became completely solid in that moment.
The one human and two demons in contact with Muzan seemed to freeze for a split second.
The next moment.
Clang!
The sound of a biwa faintly echoed in their ears.
The surrounding scenery flickered and abruptly changed.
Tanjuro felt the blade in his hands loosen.
Muzan before him had vanished without a trace.
In his place was a Japanese-style room with doors on all four sides, brightly lit.
He straightened up and looked around.
This was the Infinity Castle.
Muzan's final stronghold.
Then, he stepped forward, casually resting the Fushigiri across his shoulder.
Tanjuro had not yet used it to perform Hinokami Kagura.
...
On the opposite end of the Infinity Castle.
The wooden platform was surrounded by dense rows of doors on all four sides. Through the doors, different outside scenery was visible.
Muzan lay collapsed and disheveled in the center of it, his entire body swelling and heaving with flesh and blood.
He was trying to split himself into thousands of pieces, using his body as the central point, sending the exploding chunks of flesh evenly through the doors to be scattered across every corner of Japan!
This was the method he could think of and seemed to be the only possible way for him to survive.
But...
Gurgle—
The bulging, writhing flesh all over his body deflated like a pricked balloon.
Muzan's face turned a livid shade of blue.
He couldn't split!