The ground was carved into countless crisscrossing trenches—
Like intricate woven patterns.
All of it—
The aftermath of two overwhelming techniques colliding.
The stairs had been shredded.
The floor overturned.
Yet—
The battle wasn't over.
Xia Feng and Kokushibo continued fighting as they moved deeper into the building.
Their Nichirin Blades clashed repeatedly—
Clear, sharp, relentless.
Each strike met another.
Each attack neutralized the other.
Neither side gaining ground.
Walls were smashed through.
Floors collapsed.
Even the roof—
Could no longer withstand their battle—
And began to cave in.
They were no longer holding back.
Every movement—
Every strike—
Was refined to its purest form.
Simple.
Efficient.
Deadly.
Each attack was a killing blow.
Each motion—
Calculated.
Measured.
Waiting—
For the slightest opening.
Kokushibo smiled.
A wild, almost ecstatic expression.
He had completely let go.
Even death—
Didn't matter anymore.
In fact—
He was enjoying it.
More than anything.
Since becoming a Demon—
This was the first time he had felt such exhilaration.
Even when he once faced his brother—
On that night of fear—
There had been no joy.
Only terror.
But now—
This was different.
"Excellent… you've finally reached that state," Xia Feng said with a grin.
Kokushibo laughed.
"So today… you will die here."
Xia Feng raised his hand.
"Puppet Line!"
For a brief instant—
Kokushibo was restrained.
But he broke free immediately.
Still—
That instant—
Was enough.
Everything activated at once.
Strength—enhanced.
Mind—sharpened.
Hearing—heightened.
Bullet Time.
Infrared Vision.
Every enhancement—
Pushed to the limit.
Xia Feng moved.
His blade struck.
His eyes—
Became still.
Emotionless.
Like a calm, undisturbed lake.
Even his presence changed.
This was—
The state of selfless clarity.
Kokushibo froze.
Memories surged.
Four hundred years ago—
That blood-red moon.
That night—
When fear consumed him.
If not for his brother's shortened lifespan—
He would have died.
And now—
He saw it again.
In Xia Feng.
That same presence.
That same inevitability.
For the first time—
Kokushibo hesitated.
He knew—
The next strike—
Would kill him.
And this time—
There would be no miracle.
No time running out.
No escape.
Only death.
A single slash.
Faster than sight.
Xia Feng appeared behind him.
His blade—
Slowly returning to its sheath.
Kokushibo's body collapsed.
His head rolled across the ground.
Moonlight began to rise—
Casting a pale glow across his face.
For a moment—
He thought he saw a crimson moon again.
But he knew—
It was just his own blood clouding his vision.
Xia Feng walked forward and crouched beside him.
His expression calm.
Still.
"Goodbye."
"I'm glad I got to fight you."
He looked at him sincerely.
"As a swordsman… you're the strongest I've ever faced."
Kokushibo's body began to disintegrate.
Turning to ash.
Xia Feng stood.
And turned.
Toward the final enemy.
Muzan Kibutsuji.
Kokushibo's death—
Shattered Muzan's composure.
Panic crept into his heart.
He had planned everything.
Turned entire cities into Demons.
Launched a full-scale assault.
And yet—
Everything was collapsing.
The outer forces failed to stop Xia Feng.
Two Upper Moons—
Already dead.
Akaza—
Nowhere to be seen.
"Useless!! Useless!!"
Muzan roared in fury.
He struck Obanai Iguro, sending him flying.
His own wounds—
Healed instantly.
That regeneration—
Was on an entirely different level.
Far beyond even the Upper Moons.
But the Hashira didn't stop.
They couldn't.
Because they knew—
If Muzan died—
All Demons would disappear.
This—
Was the purpose of the Demon Slayer Corps.
For a thousand years—
They had hunted him.
And now—
He stood before them.
How could they retreat?
All of them unleashed their full power.
Even Muzan—
Struggled to hold them off.
But—
His regeneration made him untouchable.
Even when Mitsuri Kanroji pierced his head—
It regenerated instantly.
Muzan sneered.
"Your Breathing Techniques… have limits, don't they?"
"If you exceed them…"
"You'll die before me."
No one responded.
They simply attacked.
Again.
And again.
Even if it seemed futile—
They refused to stop.
But—
Their bodies had limits.
First—
Obanai collapsed.
Blood spilling from his mouth.
Then—
Mitsuri was forced back, unable to continue.
Muichiro—
Lasted the longest.
But even his attacks—
Couldn't truly harm Muzan.
"Eightfold Mist!"
His blade split into countless strikes—
Like spreading clouds.
Muzan blocked—
His arms severed—
Then instantly regenerated.
Muichiro appeared behind him—
And struck.
The neck—
Severed.
For a moment—
Hope flickered.
Then—
Muzan's head turned.
Completely.
His expression—
Filled with rage.
"You think… that can kill me?"
He kicked Muichiro away.
His speed surged even further.
Then—
His gaze shifted.
Toward Xia Feng—
Who was slowly walking forward.
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