~# Keep the chapters coming — Support with Power Stones!
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"There! I found it! Obanai, look—Upper Rank Four!"
Obanai followed Mitsuri's pointing finger toward an elevated platform where a female demon sat holding a biwa. A single eye marked with the kanji "Four" stared down at them.
"Upper Rank Four?? But Kaido's group killed the previous one. They've already got a replacement??"
His assessment was correct. After Hantengu's death, Muzan had injected Nakime with massive amounts of blood, elevating her to the new Upper Rank Four position.
"Kaido-kun and Shinobu-chan and Kanao-chan are all working so hard—I need to give it everything I've got too!" Mitsuri charged forward, whip-blade extended.
STRUM!!
The moment Mitsuri reached striking distance, Nakime plucked a single biwa string. A wooden door materialized directly in Mitsuri's path.
SMACK!
Mitsuri's face collided with the door at full speed. She tumbled off the platform, blood streaming from her nose.
Nakime: ...
"Mitsuri!" Obanai immediately leapt forward, catching her mid-fall and landing on a different platform. "Don't be reckless! We don't know her abilities yet. Observe first, then act!"
"Right..." Mitsuri's face burned crimson—not from injury, but from sheer embarrassment.
STRUM!!
Another biwa note. The floor beneath them opened like a trapdoor.
Both warriors jumped clear, landing on adjacent platforms—but Nakime wasn't finished. Another door materialized beside Obanai mid-leap.
He twisted away from the portal. The architecture beneath his feet began stacking upward in rapid succession, nearly throwing him off balance.
"Obanai!"
Mitsuri moved to support him—and failed to notice the wall rising beneath her own feet. It launched her skyward, carrying her toward the ceiling at devastating speed.
"No, no, no! I'm gonna get squashed!"
At the last instant, Mitsuri tensed every muscle in her flexible body and carved through the wall with her whip-blade, reducing it to splinters.
"I get it now—she controls this entire structure like it's her own body! But that's fine. I know what to do!"
She launched herself back toward the platform, blade aimed at Nakime.
"Prepare yourself!"
STRUM!!
Another door appeared directly in her path.
"That trick won't work twice!"
Mitsuri contorted mid-air, twisting around the obstacle with gymnastic precision. She descended toward Nakime from a completely different angle—
STRUM!!
A second door opened at her exact landing point. Momentum carried Mitsuri straight through the portal, which spat her out through another door—sending her tumbling off the platform again.
Nakime: ...
Mitsuri: (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)
"AAAAAAH!" Cartoon anger marks radiated from Mitsuri's head as she plummeted.
"Serpent Breathing, Second Form: Venom Fangs of the Narrowhead!"
While Nakime focused on Mitsuri, Obanai had circled behind her. His serpentine blade struck like a viper, aimed directly at her nape.
STRUM!!
The biwa note sent Obanai falling from the platform as well.
"Tch. Her Blood Demon Art has zero offensive capability—but the annoyance factor is off the charts!"
Obanai found a foothold and landed gracefully, glaring up at Nakime. 'If Kaido were here, he'd tear that platform apart, smash that biwa, and take her head in about thirty seconds.'
━━━━━━━━
Elsewhere in the Castle, Kaido sneezed.
"Achoo! Damn it, Muzan must be cursing me again. Hope you trip and break your ass, you bastard!"
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Gyomei and Muichiro raced through the labyrinthine passages, searching for Muzan's location.
Without warning, a wall burst from nowhere—slamming into Muichiro with enough force to send him flying.
"Tokito!"
"Don't worry about me! Keep moving! I'll catch up!"
Gyomei had no choice. He continued forward alone.
The impact carried Muichiro through multiple barriers before depositing him in an isolated chamber. He landed in a crouch, immediately spotting the figure standing before him.
The moment Muichiro saw the kanji in those eyes, his body began trembling involuntarily.
"Upper Rank... One."
"Mm? You carry... a nostalgic presence." Kokushibo's fragmented speech carried weight beyond words.
Through his Transparent World perception, Kokushibo analyzed every detail of Muichiro's physiology. "I see... so that's how it is."
Muichiro stared at the demon, cold sweat trickling down his temple. 'This is Upper Rank One?? Compared to the other Upper Ranks... he's on a completely different level. He looks immovable—commanding respect through presence alone.'
'That rusted, deformed blade at his waist... was he once a demon hunter too? His power... it's unfathomable.'
"What is... your name?"
"Tokito. Muichiro Tokito."
"I see... so the Tsugikuni surname... has been lost to time. Inevitable... after several centuries."
"Tsugikuni? Who's that?"
"That was the name... I bore as a human. Michikatsu Tsugikuni. And you... are a descendant... of our family line. Which means... I am your ancestor."
Shock hit Muichiro like physical force.
'Ancestor?? I'm descended from him?? How is that possible?? Upper Rank One was... a swordsman who mastered the original Breathing Style??'
But he forced composure back quickly. 'Stay calm. Don't panic. This information changes nothing.'
Kokushibo observed the rapid emotional recovery with approval. "Excellent mental fortitude... impressive control. Brief panic... followed by immediate calm."
FLASH!!
"Mist Breathing, Second Form: Eight-Layered Mist!"
Muichiro closed the distance instantly, blade carving eight consecutive strikes at lightning speed.
Through Transparent World, Kokushibo tracked every movement with casual ease. He sidestepped the entire combination without effort.
"Refined technique... Mist Breathing, you say? Interesting. Not bad at all."
"Mist Breathing, Fifth Form: Sea of Clouds and Haze!"
Seeing his attack fail, Muichiro deployed another technique. Mist coalesced around Kokushibo as continuous high-speed slashes converged from all angles.
Kokushibo suffered zero damage. He turned, all six eyes fixing on Muichiro simultaneously. "You're approximately... fourteen years old, correct? To possess such skill... at your age. Truly befitting... my descendant."
Muichiro stood, disgust twisting his features. "Are you mocking me? Even if I am your descendant, after hundreds of years, there's nothing left of you in my blood or cells!"
Black patterns manifested across Muichiro's face—his Demon Slayer Mark activating. He prepared to continue the assault.
"Black markings... I see. They've appeared again."
"Mist Breathing, Seventh Form: Obscuring Clouds!"
Dense mist enveloped both combatants completely.
This was Muichiro's original technique—movements designed to confuse and disorient. He'd appear as slow as a turtle one moment, then vanish in the next heartbeat.
Kokushibo remained unmoved internally. 'A technique I've never witnessed. The Mist Breathing users I encountered previously... never employed this approach.'
FLASH!!
A blade materialized from the fog, aimed directly at Kokushibo's throat. He sidestepped effortlessly. Muichiro vanished back into concealment.
"The rhythm is distinctive. The movements subtle. Combined with visual disruption... this must be his own creation. Responding without technique... would be discourteous."
Kokushibo drew his flesh-forged blade—Kyokokukamusari. The weapon's surface was covered in eyes—blade, hilt, and grip all watching.
"Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon—Evening Palace."
The draw cut moved faster than perception itself. Crescent-shaped projectiles erupted along the strike's trajectory, converging on Muichiro's position.
SLASH!
The technique shattered Muichiro's Seventh Form completely. His left arm was severed below the elbow—but as the limb fell, it emitted a faint glow imperceptible to normal vision.
'Moon Breathing?? Even as a demon, he can still use Breathing techniques?? The speed is beyond anything I can track!'
Muichiro bit his sleeve, wrapped the fabric around his stump, and clamped down with his teeth—makeshift tourniquet to prevent blood loss. Then he charged again without hesitation.
Kokushibo watched with genuine appreciation. Despite losing an arm, the boy had immediately adapted and continued attacking without fear. Admirable spirit—rare in any era.
"Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Shifting Flow Slash—"
Before Muichiro could complete the technique, Kokushibo disarmed him with casual precision.
Then, using Muichiro's own blade, Kokushibo pierced the boy's shoulder and pinned him to a pillar.
"Ngh..." Muichiro suppressed a cry of agony.
"My excellent descendant... become a demon. Serve that person. Your talents deserve eternity."
"With your skill... becoming a demon guarantees survival. Currently... only I remain among the Upper Ranks capable of combat. That person would surely... approve of your strength."
Kokushibo even produced a white cloth, carefully binding Muichiro's severed arm with surprising gentleness.
"Allow me to staunch the bleeding. Human bodies... are fragile. Excessive blood loss... means death."
Hidden behind a nearby pillar, Genya witnessed everything. That suffocating pressure emanating from Kokushibo made his hands shake.
But seeing Muichiro in that condition—he had to act.
Genya raised his modified rifle, aimed at Kokushibo—
BANG!
The shot rang out. But it was futile. Kokushibo had detected him long ago and already stood behind him.
'Damn it!'
"Water Breathing, Third Form: Flowing Dance!"
Genya became a blur, escaping his previous position before firing another shot.
Kokushibo caught the bullet barehanded, dismissing it as trivial—
BOOM!
The round exploded in his palm, obliterating his hand. Fragments of flesh scattered across the floor.
"Interesting... this ammunition..." Kokushibo noted the subtle regeneration suppression effect, though it was relatively weak.
"Good thing the Dragon Hashira trained me recently and taught me Breathing techniques. Plus this gun—otherwise just now..." Genya's thought cut off as Kokushibo vanished and reappeared behind him.
Before Genya could swing his blade, Kokushibo severed his hand.
Like Muichiro's arm, the severed limb emitted a faint glow as it fell.
"Genya!"
Muichiro pushed against the pillar with both feet, trying to force himself forward and dislodge the blade pinning him.
"Damn it! It won't budge!"
Kokushibo calmly removed Genya's other arm.
"Your weapon is unique. Even centuries ago... such firearms didn't exist. They suppress... demonic regeneration." The suppression effect faded. Kokushibo's destroyed hand reformed completely. He drew Kyokokukamusari and positioned it against Genya's throat. "Your physiology is also... unusual. A demon-devouring constitution. Three hundred years past... I encountered another swordsman... who consumed demons similarly."
The blade descended toward Genya's neck.
"GENYA! Damn it—the sword won't come free!"
At the last instant, Sanemi arrived.
"Wind Breathing, Fourth Form: Rising Dust Storm!"
Five ascending wind blades erupted from below, forcing Kokushibo backward.
The demon slid several meters before stopping, his six eyes focusing on the newcomer.
"The Wind Hashira..."
"You got that right! And I'm the gale that's gonna rip your head clean off!"
"Brother..." Genya's weak voice barely carried.
"You're hopeless, you know that?? All that special training Kaido gave you and you still couldn't apply it properly!"
"You should've stayed home, gotten married, raised a family, and died peacefully surrounded by grandchildren! Mom and our siblings are gone—you should be honoring their memory by protecting your own wife and kids! And me? I'm the big brother. I'll make damn sure no demon ever gets within a mile of you!"
Tears streamed down Genya's face. "I'm sorry, brother... I'm... useless... I failed the Dragon Hashira too..."
Kokushibo observed their exchange with something approaching nostalgia. "Brothers... both demon hunters. How... reminiscent."
"SHUT UP, YOU SIX-EYED FREAK! You hurt my little brother! I'm gonna tear you apart! PREPARE TO DIE!"
Sanemi launched forward like a hurricane, blade singing through air toward Kokushibo's throat.
Kokushibo responded with a draw cut, miniature crescent blades coating the strike's surface.
Sanemi adjusted mid-charge, dropping into a slide that carried him beneath Kokushibo's guard—blade aimed at the demon's ankles.
Kokushibo leapt upward, evading cleanly. But Sanemi's assault had only begun.
"Wind Breathing, First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"
During his slide, Sanemi launched a devastating high-speed slash. Wind blades erupted in its wake, severing surrounding pillars like wheat before a scythe.
He pushed off the ground, transitioning seamlessly into another strike.
Kokushibo drew Kyokokukamusari to block—and for the first time, all three combatants saw the weapon clearly. Eyes covered every surface, staring in all directions.
"HAHAHA! That's one disgusting-ass sword you've got there, you bastard!"
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