Muzan Kibutsuji's eyes blazed with cruelty as he glared at Yosuke, unable to comprehend his words.
"Today, every last one of you will die by my hand!"
Yosuke charged at him.
"Blood Breathing, Second Form: Crimson Flame Claw Marks!"
His Nichirin blade slashed forward in three crimson arcs, sharp and savage like a beast's claws, aimed at Muzan's chest.
Yet Muzan did not move at all. The strikes passed through empty air. With scorn dripping from his voice, he mocked,
"What's this? Have you already lost even the ability to strike me?"
The words had barely left his lips when the three crimson claw-marks suspended in the air suddenly detonated. The blast sent Muzan sprawling to the ground.
He rose in fury, his expression twisted. "Arrogant fool! Do you think such trifling wounds matter to me?!"
Yosuke ignored the taunt. All he needed was to hold Muzan here until dawn. That would be enough for victory.
As for what would happen to himself after sunrise… Yosuke no longer cared.
"Blood Breathing, Third Form: Tempest Flame Blood Blades!"
Blood ignited like searing fire around his Nichirin blade. He unleashed a storm of blazing crimson slashes, countless flying blades streaking toward Muzan.
Muzan countered with a wide shockwave from his body, scattering every strike. From his back, thorned tendrils lashed out toward Yosuke.
"Blood Breathing, First Form: Crimson Decay!"
Scarlet petals bloomed around Yosuke, enclosing him like a flower bud. Muzan's tendrils pierced through, impaling his body even within the blossom.
Yosuke grit his teeth against the pain of Muzan's poisonous blood surging into his veins.
"Bloom… Crimson Flower!"
The petals flared open with an explosion, scattering countless razor-like scarlet fragments across the battlefield.
But when they pierced Muzan's body, they stirred no reaction at all.
Yosuke spread his blood-forged wings and dove from the air. But before he could strike, dozens of tendrils erupted from Muzan's body, impaling and suspending him mid-air.
Muzan's hands themselves morphed into whips. With a single stroke, he cleaved through Yosuke's neck.
"No matter how desperately you struggle, you will never defeat me. A demon who refuses to eat humans? Pathetic!"
Yet Yosuke's monstrous regeneration pushed past its limits—his head regrew instantly. Ignoring the tendrils still skewering his body, he forced his wings to beat, dragging himself closer to Muzan.
His Nichirin blade clashed against Muzan's thorned whips, sparks ringing out like steel on steel.
The blood-soaked, savage battle had only just begun.
Elsewhere, Yoriichi and Kokushibō's duel raged on.
Yoriichi sought to break away, to return to Muzan's battlefield. But Kokushibō blocked his path relentlessly.
"Yoriichi!" he roared. "This is our fight! I will not let you run!" His blade, Kyokokukamusari, forged from his own flesh, slashed to bar Yoriichi's way.
"I now possess power beyond compare! I am no longer Michikatsu Tsugikuni, forever chasing after your shadow. I am Kokushibō, wielding the supreme strength of a demon! Today, only one of us leaves alive!"
Yoriichi drew his Nichirin blade. Seeing this, Kokushibō laughed in triumph.
"At last, you've chosen to face me!
Breath of the Moon, Sixteenth Form: Moonbow – Half Moon!"
From the heavens, a cascade of massive crescent slashes rained down, gouging the earth apart, accompanied by a storm of spinning moon blades.
But Yoriichi, already within the Transparent World, stood utterly calm. Every crescent seemed to bend away from him of its own accord, leaving him untouched.
"Breath of the Sun, Twelfth Form: Flame Dance!"
From Kokushibō's perspective, the world froze. Only Yoriichi's figure remained, his blade burning with the radiance of the sun.
When the world resumed its motion, Yoriichi's blade was already sheathed. A deep, bone-cutting wound opened across Kokushibō's neck.
Stunned, Kokushibō stood frozen. By the time he regained awareness, Yoriichi was gone.
Even now, faced with his own brother, Yoriichi could not bring himself to deliver the final blow. His compassion stayed his hand.
Kokushibō fell to his knees, pounding the ground in rage.
"What is this?! Pity?! You won't even grant me the dignity of dying by your blade?! Damn you, Yoriichi!"
At the ruins of the Ubuyashiki estate, Yosuke fought like a madman, heedless of his wounds, hurling himself at Muzan again and again.
The battlefield rang with nothing but the sound of steel clashing and blades tearing into flesh.
Yosuke severed one of Muzan's arms, but in turn his own body was ripped apart by Muzan's strikes. Blood and carnage painted the scene.
He thought that by fighting like this, he could stall Muzan. But then, disaster struck.
Outside the estate, the Demon Slayer Corps was collapsing. Facing the endless demon army and the tide of controlled humans, they were being driven back with horrific losses.
Barely one in ten still stood alive. Even support members of the Corps were picking up the fallen Nichirin blades of their comrades and throwing themselves into the fight.
Meanwhile, the demons advanced unhindered, healing their wounds by devouring humans on the spot.
The battle was utterly one-sided.
"Just one more hour! Hold out for one more hour and dawn will come!"
Gyomei's successor, the Stone Hashira Daigo Shimazawa, bellowed to rally the desperate troops.
But all five remaining Hashira were gravely injured. The Water Hashira, Eriko Tokimoto, had already lost her right arm, blood streaming from the stump—yet still she fought on with her left, refusing to yield.
They all understood how impossible the task before them was. They had to slay the demons, yet could not harm the controlled humans. Hampered and restrained, their strength was stretched to its breaking point.
Then, with a deafening impact, Yosuke was hurled across the battlefield by Muzan's whip, landing near the five Hashira.
When they saw him standing alone, their hearts sank.
"Yosuke… where's Yoriichi?!"
But Yosuke gave no answer. Muzan's next attack was already looming. If he failed to hold Muzan back, every last surviving slayer here would die.
With blood wings unfurled once more, Yosuke threw himself back into the fight. The hearts of all present grew heavy with dread.
Could it be… had Yoriichi Tsugikuni already fallen?
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