The night was as dark as ink.
The path leading to the manor's main house was spacious and grand, yet at this moment, a single, oppressive figure walked its length as if strolling through a garden.
With every step the man in the well-tailored suit took, the terrifying aura emanating from him intensified, a disturbing energy that seemed to condense into a physical presence, causing his coat to rustle in the windless air.
To face him was to face the abyss itself, for he was the master of all demons, the beginning of all evil, the Demon King—Kibutsuji Muzan.
Yet, at the center of this storm of pressure, the brightly lit main house of the Moriki Manor exuded a strange, almost tragic calm.
Muzan's scarlet eyes paused, noticing two small figures by the entrance.
They were delicate little girls with white hair, and they radiated an aura that he instinctively disliked.
Ubuyashiki's children?
Strangely, the two girls seemed not to see him at all.
One held a wooden box, the other a handful of paper talismans.
With faint, sweet smiles on their faces, they quietly walked into the main house, completely ignoring the ancestor of all demons standing mere feet away.
"Interesting, Ubuyashiki. Truly interesting," Muzan mused, his hands in his pockets.
His gaze seemed to pierce the walls, locking onto the faint but unmistakable scent of the bloodline he had loathed for a thousand years.
He slowly raised a foot, his shiny black leather boots tapping crisply on the moonlit stone steps.
His pace was elegant and unhurried, as if he were not arriving to annihilate his mortal enemy, but to keep a date a millennium in the making, a rendezvous destined to end in blood.
In an unseen corner, a special talisman stuck to his forehead, Gyomei Himejima's massive body was tense, the muscles of his arms bulging around his prayer beads.
Seeing Muzan draw ever closer to his master, he lowered his head with a silent prayer on his lips.
"Namu Amida Butsu."
Muzan reached the main house and saw the door was slightly ajar, as if it had been waiting for him.
Warm light spilled out, a stark contrast to the cold, deathly aura clinging to him.
He stopped, tilted his head, and then raised a hand.
With a flash of his claws, the heavy wooden door disintegrated into splinters.
The light washed over him, and he frowned in displeasure.
The scene within was now clearly visible.
His scarlet gaze finally fell upon the figure half-reclined by the window.
As if sensing him, Kagaya Ubuyashiki slowly lifted his bandaged face, turning toward the doorway.
Though his vision was a hazy fog, he could still perceive the nightmarish silhouette that had haunted his family for generations.
Beside him, Amane held her husband's hand, her own palm slick with sweat despite her placid expression.
After a moment of silence, a sneer of pure, undiluted contempt escaped Muzan's lips, a sound like shards of ice grinding together.
He took a step, crossing the threshold and entering the room.
The warm atmosphere seemed to recoil from his chilling presence, making an almost inaudible hissing sound.
"You are… a pathetic sight, Kagaya Ubuyashiki. Even uglier than I imagined," Muzan's voice was low, yet it carried a soul-piercing coldness.
"So weak. Even without my intervention, you have only a few years left. What a pitiful creature." His eyes swept over Kagaya's decaying face and the room that smelled of medicine and death, his joy unconcealed.
"You've hidden in your gutter for so long, and yet you still can't escape your fate. How utterly ridiculous."
Faced with this venomous tirade, Kagaya showed no trace of anger or fear.
He simply twitched the corners of his mouth into a faint, impossibly peaceful smile.
"Kibutsuji Muzan," Kagaya's voice was gentle and clear, like a mountain spring, strangely soothing the tense air.
"You… are finally here." He spoke not like a victim, but like a host who had been patiently awaiting a long-overdue guest.
Muzan's brow furrowed.
This was not the reaction he had expected.
"Oh? You don't seem surprised," he purred, slowly advancing into the room. "Is this why you sent your little slayers away? Did you intend to make one last, futile struggle with your own rotten life? Or did you naively believe you could save them?" He spat the words, trying to tear through the other man's infuriating calm.
Kagaya's smile remained.
"A struggle? Perhaps," he said softly. "The sole purpose of the Ubuyashiki clan for a thousand years has been to see you destroyed. Whatever the cost, we have never once regretted it." He lifted his head slightly, and though his eyes were clouded white, they seemed to look straight into Muzan's soul.
"But you, Muzan… you have lived for more than a thousand years, devouring countless lives. And for what? So you can achieve an eternity of hiding in the shadows, constantly changing your identity, living like the most despicable parasite in human society?"
Muzan's advance stopped dead.
The lazy mockery on his face vanished, replaced by a cold, ferocious killing intent.
Kagaya seemed not to notice. "What is it you truly desire? To walk in the sun? Or is it simply an escape from the fear of death that torments you day and night? You are afraid, aren't you? I can sense it. Your anger proves I am right."
"You have a sharp tongue, for a dying man," Muzan hissed, his demonic energy surging, causing the temperature in the room to plummet and the floor beneath his feet to crack.
But Kagaya was unmoved.
"Look at yourself, Muzan," he continued, his voice now laced with a profound pity.
"A thousand years have not made you perfect. They have not even made you truly alive. You are an empty shell, driven only by your fear of death, endlessly consuming but never satisfied. You hate the sun, you hate the wisteria, you hate us… because you hate your own imperfections. Your so-called strength is merely a mask for your cowardice. You… are the most pitiful creature to have ever walked this earth."
Every word was a perfectly sharpened blade, honed over generations, slicing through Muzan's layers of pride and power to pierce the one ugly truth he could never face.
"SILENCE!"
Muzan roared, his crimson eyes blazing with unrestrained murder.
The pressure in the room became a physical force, threatening to crush Kagaya and everything around him into dust.
He admitted it to himself; the man's words were truly, infuriatingly, precise.
He had to be silenced.
But not yet.
Not by simply crushing him like an ant.
The game had to be played to its end.
He reined in his power, a cruel smile returning to his face.
"Pathetic man. What gives you the right to be so calm in front of me?"