The vine serpent, the writhing pigment blobs—it all came back to him.
Weren't these the Blood Demon Arts of Lower Rank demons who had already been slain?
Shinichi cleaved a massive gash through the vine serpent with his blade, his gaze hardening slightly as he stared at Kamaro in the distance.
The latter, in turn, smiled back at Shinichi, the two closed-eyed faces on his exposed chest radiating an eerie, unsettling aura.
"Kill him!!" Sekido, his body fully regenerated, roared furiously, his staff unleashing countless bolts of lightning that surged toward Shinichi.
Yet, despite Sekido's rage, Shinichi remained composed.
Though Kamaro's sudden interference complicated things, Shinichi's overwhelming physical prowess and swordsmanship allowed him to dominate both Sekido and Karaku's clones.
However, while Shinichi's battle was going smoothly, Uzui Tengen on the other side was truly in dire situation.
His fierce duel with Gyutaro had already pushed him to his limits, and now, with the sudden appearance of an Upper Moon Four clone—Urogi—Tengen's situation had grown even more precarious.
Blood dripped from countless wounds inflicted by Gyutaro's crimson sickle, staining his Demon Slayer Corps uniform.
Uzui Tengen clenched one Nichirin Blade between his teeth while gripping another tightly in his right hand.
His left arm hung limp, bent at an unnatural angle.
A terrifying, unknown poison was rapidly corroding his body, but thanks to his rigorous poison resistance training from his days as a shinobi, he had managed to endure this long.
Urogi's body, its wings torn clean off, twitched on the ground not far from Tengen, while Gyutaro bared his fangs, eager to strike again.
"You pretty-boy Hashira… I'll admit, you've surprised me. Compared to you, the other Hashiras I've killed were nothing but worthless trash." Gyutaro's lips curled into a sinister smirk before his tone shifted.
"So, even though I despise your face… if you're willing to become a demon, I'll let it slide."
"Hmph!" Tengen swayed slightly, unable to voice his disdain and mockery with the blade between his teeth.
Instead, he raised his remaining Nichirin Blade with his good arm, pointing it squarely at Gyutaro—his answer clear.
"Stubborn fool!" Gyutaro's expression darkened.
What was so bad about becoming a demon?
They could do whatever they wanted—wasn't that wonderful?
Just like Doma, the one who had turned them into demons.
A crisp sound echoed as Urogi, who had been convulsing on the ground, staggered back to his feet.
His dry, cracked neck twisted unnaturally, and a fresh pair of fleshy wings sprouted from the stumps of his severed limbs.
"Hehehe, this big guy sure hits hard. But I think I can understand a little why Sekido is always so angry, and that is..."
Swish!
Urogi suddenly soared into the sky, glaring down at Tengen before articulating his true feelings word by word.
"I'm really pissed off now. We shouldn't have wasted so much time! I'll just kill you outright!"
Crack!
Urogi's lips curled, revealing glistening fangs, while his flapping wings shimmered with a sickly glow under the moonlight.
"Huff... huff..." Tengen panted laboriously, his vision gradually blurring.
The pain from his fractured left arm had dulled—not a good sign, as it meant the neurotoxin coating Gyutaro's crimson scythes was taking effect.
Half of Tengen's body was going numb.
"Hehehe, big guy, this time I'm gonna pluck your eyeballs out to play marbles!" Urogi cheered, then seized the moment after circling midair, diving straight at Tengen with claws outstretched, cold and terrifying.
Gyutaro wasn't holding back either.
Licking the blood off his scythes, he sneered, "What a shame. But since you refused to become a demon, you should've been prepared. A Hashira's flesh is rare delicacy!"
Before the words faded, Gyutaro lunged violently, crossing his twin scythes into an X.
"Blood Demon Art: Flying Blood Scythes!"
Dozens of crimson slashes tore through the air.
Tengen, simultaneously besieged by two Upper Moons, desperately gripped his Nichirin Blade with his remaining strength, barely parrying Gyutaro's strikes as metallic clashes exploded around him.
Yet in that instant, Urogi swooped down, claws aimed straight for Tengen's throat.
"Sound Breathing, Fourth Form: Constant Resounding Slash!"
The Nichirin Blade carved arcs like sonic booms, while suddenly detonating black spheres blasted safe zones around Tengen.
Slash!
Seizing the opening, Tengen struck and Urogi's right wing was severed mid-flight.
But Gyutaro's crimson slashes also carved three bone-deep wounds across Tengen's back.
With a grunt, Tengen collapsed to one knee, his blade clattering to the ground.
"Is this... the end?"
Sweat and blood dripped from his chin as Tengen's hazy vision conjured the gentle smiles of his three wives.
His hand groped for the last few black spheres at his waist.
"My finale isn't so flashy... But as a Hashira, at least... I'll take one down with me!"
Seeing Tengen nearly incapacitated, Gyutaro wasn't about to let the opportunity slip.
"Die!!" he cackled.
The crimson scythes flashed toward Tengen—just as he prepared to detonate all remaining hidden explosive spheres on his person.
Then, an angry voice cut through the air, followed by a howling gale.
"Wind Breathing, First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"
Boom!!
Gyutaro's scythes were violently repelled by the raging wind blades.
Shinazugawa Sanemi materialized like a specter before Tengen, his signature white spiked hair bristling.
The sight of the Upper Rank Demon ignited a fierce battle lust in Sanemi's eyes, making the scars on his face twist into something even more fearsome.
"Well, if it isn't the flamboyant God of Festivals? What happened to all your splendor? Can you still stand?" Sanemi said without turning his head, his Nichirin Blade steadily aimed at Gyutaro.
Though his words were harsh, they perfectly reflected Sanemi's prickly personality—he cared about his comrades but couldn't bring himself to say anything gentle.
So instead, he directed his hostility toward the Upper Rank Demon.
Tengen coughed up a mouthful of blood and smiled.
"...Perfect timing. The God of Festivals' dazzling performance is just about to begin!"
With that, Tengen tightened his grip on his Nichirin Blade and struggled to his feet.
Tengen could still stand up again, which put Sanemi somewhat at ease.
Immediately after, his bloodshot eyes locked fiercely onto Gyutaro.
"You seemed to be having a lot of fun just now, huh? Well, how about a little more fun? Hey ugly—from now on, your opponent is me!!"
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