Mist Mountain stretched endlessly, shrouded in a veil of night. A crescent Moon hung among the stars, casting a pale glow over the rugged peaks. At the foot of the mountains lay a courtyard, serene yet tense, the residence of Mist Pillar Muichiro.
A prodigy who had ascended to Pillar rank in just two months, the only one in the Demon Slayer Corps to have single-handedly defeated an Upper Rank, Muichiro's power was unquestionable. Yet now, he held his Nichirin Blade tightly, panting, disheveled, facing a figure hovering mid-air.
White hair cascaded over the figure's shoulders, and in his hand was a transparent thread, dripping with blood—Muichiro's blood.
After three months of enduring the agony of being cut a thousand times daily, this demon had finally overcome sunlight. His next targets were the Pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps. His instincts whispered that consuming the strongest would elevate him further. Not just the Pillars, but the Twelve Kizuki, Kibutsuji Muzan, and even Lucien Graves were within his sights.
Swish.
Without warning, the demon struck. He vanished and reappeared before Muichiro, threads extending from his five fingers, gleaming like frozen steel as they slashed downward with lethal precision.
"Mist Breathing, Fourth Form: Flowing Slash."
Muichiro's expression remained stoic. His pale blue Nichirin Blade shimmered as it swept horizontally, mist rising like a gentle haze on a quiet morning. Sparks erupted where blade met thread. Muichiro grunted, kneeling briefly under the force, unable to fully resist.
The demon roared and kicked, sending Muichiro skidding. He did not meet the attack head-on but used his left hand to guide himself back, mist swirling in a protective shroud.
"Mist Breathing, Seventh Form: Obscuring Cloud."
The courtyard disappeared beneath a sea of mist, Muichiro's ultimate defensive maneuver. The demon's vision faltered, unable to locate him. Silently, Muichiro reappeared to the left, his blade cutting like rippling water.
The demon's fingers gleamed. He flicked them casually. Muichiro vanished again, as if existing in multiple places at once.
The demon frowned. Muichiro's sudden disappearance was unnatural, a ghostly mirage. When Muichiro reappeared to the right, he seemed slower this time. The next strike saw him vanish again. One moment fast, the next slow, appearing and disappearing in a rhythm impossible to track.
"I don't have time for hide-and-seek, Birdcage," the demon muttered.
He extended his left hand skyward. Countless threads shot out like meteor showers, descending and connecting to form a massive, arc-shaped cage.
"Mist Breathing, Second Form: Eight-Layered Mist."
Muichiro sensed the looming danger. He had to interrupt the formation. With a flash, he unleashed eight consecutive strikes, mist spiraling with each swing, light as spring wind yet sharp as blades.
"Spiderweb Wall."
The demon's left hand sprayed threads while his right, encased in sharp filaments, wove an instant spiderweb. The eight mist strikes shattered against it, yet the fragments passed through and hit the demon, splattering his body with blood.
His right hand had been shredded to minced flesh. Yet in seconds, the wounds healed, his hand fully regenerated. Muichiro's heart sank. Such regeneration was terrifying.
"Mist Breathing, Third Form: Scattering Mist Spray."
Muichiro formed a circular misty light, aiming for the demon's neck, the weak point. Yet for some reason, the demon did not resist, letting his head fly free. A thread remained visible, tethering his severed head. Muichiro's left arm suffered in return.
"It worked," he whispered, ignoring the pain, staring at the head hovering in mid-air.
In the blink of an eye, the head rejoined the neck, flesh knitting instantly. Muichiro's shock deepened. How could someone survive a decapitation?
The demon struck again, and Muichiro disappeared into the mist once more. Unseen, the birdcage closed, threads cutting through stone and wood, shrinking with lethal precision.
Muichiro knew he had to end this before the cage fully enclosed him.
"Mist Breathing, Fifth Form: Sea of Misty Clouds."
Mist surged like living water, propelling him in front of the demon. His Nichirin Blade brushed the foe's face. The demon's eyes were calm as he pulled back, retreating to the edge of the shrinking cage, passing through it effortlessly. Cracks marred his body, yet within seconds, the wounds healed completely.
"Flowing Slash."
Muichiro could only strike at the cage itself. The threads were impossibly sharp and hard, and the demon's fingers swept with relentless precision. Disappearing into the mist was no longer an escape.
The cage tightened, and Muichiro became cornered. Threads pierced his flesh, blood flowing freely. Outside, the demon's calm gaze met his, unshaken.
A dark cloud obscured the Moon briefly, plunging the shattered courtyard into darkness. When the Moon returned, the cage had vanished, leaving only a pool of blood and a broken Nichirin Blade.
Dawn broke, golden sunlight washing over the carnage.
Two figures arrived, sprinting across the debris-strewn courtyard.
"We're too late," Giyu Tomioka said.
Shinobu Kocho knelt, carefully collecting the blade fragments in silence, sorrow and anger in her eyes.
A Kasugai Crow flew overhead, speaking in human language.
"Flame Pillar Kyojuro Rengoku was killed on the Mugen Train; the culprit is Lucien Graves. All Pillars are requested to return to Headquarters immediately."
Giyu and Shinobu clenched their fists, gazes sharp and furious.
Almost simultaneously, Uzui Tengen, Kanroji Mitsuri, Obanai Iguro, and Himejima Gyoumei received the same news. The Demon Slayer Corps hurried toward Headquarters, the world shaken by the loss.
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