The moment Tsukihiko spoke, the air grew heavy, and a suffocating silence fell over the room. The joyful smiles that had been on the faces of Tamayo, Yushiro, and Nezuko just seconds before were now frozen into masks of dread. They had known, from the moment they were brought into the Infinity Castle, that their every move was being watched by Kibutsuji Muzan. Tamayo, in particular, had felt his immense pressure from the very beginning, leaving her with no choice but to comply with his demands. Her only hope was to develop the medicine he wanted as quickly as possible to minimize the potential damage.
But Tamayo knew this Muzan was different from the paranoid coward she remembered from centuries ago. This version was a master of psychological warfare. His previous, fleeting appearances had been perfectly executed threats, designed to keep her off balance. If she hadn't already shed the last of her human emotions long ago, she might have truly broken under his relentless mental manipulation. She understood that his interest in her was primarily focused on her unique ability to create drugs that could affect even demons, and that was the only reason she was still alive.
"What's wrong, Tamayo?" Tsukihiko's voice was deceptively soft as his gaze shifted from the vial in her hand to her face. "Does my presence make you uncomfortable?"
Even after centuries, Tamayo's beauty had not faded. It was a dignified, timeless allure that Yushiro had once declared the most beautiful in all of Japan. While it sounded like the exaggeration of a devoted follower, there was truth to it. Beyond the grace she had cultivated over her long life, she possessed a physical beauty that time could not touch. But this, she knew, was only because of the blood Kibutsuji Muzan had given her so long ago.
"Kneel," Tsukihiko commanded softly.
Instantly, a strange, distorting power wrapped around Tamayo, squeezing the air from her lungs. She felt every bone and muscle in her body begin to tremble uncontrollably. An indescribable wave of pure fear, cold and vast as a tidal wave, washed over her, hijacking her mind and her body. She lost all control.
Thud.
With a choked gasp of humiliation, Tamayo's knees hit the floor.
"No!" Yushiro shrieked.
Nezuko let out a furious growl. The sight of Tamayo being so cruelly humiliated sent them both into a blind rage. Yushiro had been personally turned into a demon by Tamayo; she was the most important and perfect being in his entire existence. He could not stand to see her kneeling before a monster like Muzan. And while Nezuko hadn't known Tamayo for long, she knew she was a kind person. Watching a good person be bullied by this ultimate evil was something her protective instincts could never tolerate.
Almost as one, their figures shot forward, charging directly at Tsukihiko. They knew the power gap between them was immense, but in that moment, it didn't matter.
"Blood Demon Art!" Yushiro roared, his voice sharp with fury. He activated his technique, a powerful form of visual interference designed to blind and confuse his enemies.
But he was not facing a lesser demon. He was facing the progenitor, the king from whom all demonic power flowed.
Crack!
Before it could even take effect, Yushiro's Blood Demon Art shattered like glass. A searing pain exploded in his eyes. Streams of blood burst from his sockets, covering his face in a gruesome red mask. The force of the backlash sent him staggering backward, as if he'd been struck by lightning.
"A mere servant dares to use a Blood Demon Art against its king?" Tsukihiko's voice echoed, and in a flash, he was behind Yushiro's stumbling form. "A frog in a well, daring to gaze upon the sky?"
His hand moved in a lazy arc, striking Yushiro across the face. The sound was a sickening crack of bone and flesh. Yushiro's head snapped to the side, teeth flying from his mouth as his face was reduced to a bloody, mangled ruin. The thick, oppressive smell of blood filled the air.
Muzan turned, his expression unchanged, as Nezuko charged him. She had completed her own demonic transformation, her body growing into that of a graceful, powerful woman, wreathed in her pyrotechnic Blood Demon Art.
"And you," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "A tiny ant, daring to offend your supreme master?"
Before Nezuko could even get close, an immense pressure slammed into her. It wasn't physical; it was an assault on her very bloodline. Countless memories, fragments of experiences not her own, and the crushing weight of Muzan's absolute will flooded her senses. Her own demonic blood turned against her.
Bang!
The internal backlash was catastrophic. The power drained from her body in an instant, and she was thrown violently to the floor.
"Wuwu... wuwu..."
Lying on the ground, defeated, Nezuko could only weep tears of blood, her strength completely gone.
The room once again fell into a deathly, oppressive silence. Tamayo, still forced to kneel, watched the entire scene, unable to move a muscle. Tears of humiliation and despair streamed from her beautiful eyes. She had never dreamed… she had never imagined that Kibutsuji Muzan could be this terrifying.
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