"Answer me, Michikatsu Tsugikuni!"
Forcing all the strength he could into his throat, Mo Wu bellowed the words at the top of his lungs. At this point, he could not even move a single muscle.
"Who exactly are you?"
Though Kokushibo still appeared composed, all six of his eyes widened at once, as if he had just heard something impossible. For the first time, a ripple disturbed his normally steady expression.
Why… why would anyone still remember that long-buried name?!
Veins bulged across all three pairs of eyes as Kokushibo involuntarily recalled the wife and child he had left behind long ago.
Or could it be… some bloodline Yoriichi Tsugikuni had left behind during the sixty years after being expelled from the Demon Slayer Corps?!
"You are our descendant?!"
"No… impossible. I cannot sense even the slightest trace of Tsugikuni blood within your body!"
End Countdown: 0:01:08
"Are you truly a worthy samurai?"
"Do you still remember the lord whose head you cut off?"
Ignoring Kokushibo's questions, the man whose body was frozen stiff continued speaking to himself atop the hill, each sentence like a blade dragging buried history back into the light.
"You deserve to die."
Every word struck a hidden nerve.
These were all the things Kokushibo could never allow to be spoken.
A mere human… a mere human dared to be this insolent!
As Kyokokukamusari slowly slid from its sheath, Kokushibo's eyes grew colder and colder, as if he were looking at nothing more than a corpse still babbling away.
"Dawn is about to break. I will grant you a swift death."
He raised the blade in his hand. As the cold words left Kokushibo's mouth, every eye growing along the grotesque surface of Kyokokukamusari opened at once, thirsting for blood.
End Countdown: 0:00:07
"How truly pathetic, Michikatsu Tsugikuni."
How truly pathetic, elder brother…
End Countdown: 0:00:04
A similar voice echoed through his mind once more, and the defeat of four hundred years ago surged back into his heart.
Yoriichi… from now on, I will never lose to you again.
End Countdown: 0:00:02
"First Form: Dark Moon, Evening Palace."
Kokushibo's voice fell into a quiet murmur. With a light swing of his blade, countless tiny crescent slashes surged forth, instantly engulfing Mo Wu's lower body.
In a single moment—
Blood and fragments of flesh sprayed into the air.
An icy numbness rose from below, followed at once by agony so severe it tore upward through the rest of his body.
How could anyone endure such pain?!
And yet—
"Dance!"
End Countdown: 0:00:01
Before his consciousness could completely fade, blood spilled from Mo Wu's mouth.
But using the momentum of his upper body falling forward, and with sheer force of will driving the crimson blade in his right hand, he managed at the very last moment to behead the demon still crawling beneath his sword, so insignificant that Kokushibo had never even bothered to notice it.
End Countdown: 0:00:00
Brilliant sunlight tore through the darkness, and the first dawn of the east shattered the night.
Kokushibo let out a cold snort. Feeling the faint sting of heat from the rising sun, he cast a dismissive glance at what remained of Mo Wu's body and turned to leave, never noticing the blissful smile on Mo Wu's face as the sunlight poured over him.
Clearance Mission: Live? Live!
Objective: Survive the night on Mount Fujikasane / Kill all demons
Reward: 500 Dream Points
Return Countdown: 00:10:00
Side Mission: Lord of Mount Fujikasane (3/3)
Objective: Kill one hundred demons (100/100)
Reward: 300 Dream Points
The cold notification tone rang in his ears, pulling Mo Wu's fading mind back from the abyss.
[Clearance Mission: Live? Live!] Completed
[Side Mission: Lord of Mount Fujikasane] Completed
"Demons slaughtered beneath the blade—how could one die in the night before seeing dawn?"
"One hundred demons slain. Condition achieved."
"Milestone unlocking…"
"Ding."
"O noble one…"
"Miracle granted: state reset, strength increased, speed increased, stamina increased."
"Miracle granted: Thunder Breathing Lv1."
"Miracle granted: Mixed Breathing."
"Miracle granted: Transparent World."
"Miracle granted: Eyes Bathed in Dawn."
"Miracle granted: Demon Sense Lv4."
"Miracle granted: Nichirin Blade Enhancement +1."
"Continue onward toward the next milestone on the path of Great Feats."
Golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, driving away the darkness above the mountains.
The endless dawn in the heavens transformed into strands of liquid gold. Lying naked in a pool of blood, the man suddenly felt a flash of brightness before his eyes, white light gleaming within them.
He rose to his feet.
Facing the distant forest, feeling the breeze sweep across his entire body, Mo Wu only felt refreshed. His newly reborn body overflowed with power. Spreading both arms wide as though embracing the sun itself, a faint golden radiance flickered in his eyes.
This had been a trial.
And beneath this breaking dawn, he had emerged victorious.
He had conquered death.
"Kokushibo!"
His roar rang out across Mount Fujikasane.
The agony of having his body severed at the waist was not the sort of thing one could simply forget. Right now, Mo Wu wanted only one thing—to vent, to release the suffocating pressure of having barely escaped death beneath Kokushibo's blade.
"You thought you could kill me?!"
"Run, Michikatsu Tsugikuni! Run from everything again, just like you did four hundred and sixty years ago!"
"You wretched creature, consumed by jealousy, filthy as an insect crawling beneath the earth—go scurry back into the gutter that belongs to you, chased there by the sunlight!"
"The next time we meet, I will cut you down!"
Watching the figure standing atop the hill, bathed in sunlight, Kokushibo's mind had already begun to break.
He remembered it clearly… he had cut Mo Wu clean in half. He had even shredded the flesh into pieces.
Enduring the pain of the sunlight burning all six of his eyes, he stared at the naked body standing in the light without a single trace of injury.
The pupils of all six eyes shrank into pinpoints.
He no longer cared about Mo Wu's mockery.
Instead, a deeper confusion rose from within him.
His body had been severed… yet it had fully restored itself.
He stood beneath sunlight…
His physique was even more monstrous than a demon's.
Was this still truly human?
Yoriichi… is this the future you saw?
Words from four hundred years ago replayed inside his mind once more.
"Brother, why do you think that way?"
"We are merely two passersby in the history of humanity. We are not invincible, nor will the Demon Slayer Corps fail simply because we are gone."
"You overestimate our importance."
"Someone with even greater talent than ours may very well be born somewhere this very moment."
"And in the end, they too may reach the realm we stand in now."
The figure in the red haori gazed toward the far horizon, as deep and unfathomable as ever.
"Those who pursue the Way to its end all arrive at the same destination."
Kokushibo clenched the sword in his hand so tightly that veins bulged violently across his forehead.
Then what was the meaning of everything I have done?
What did I become this thing for?!
"Tell me, Yoriichi!"
Not noticing the puddle beneath him, Kokushibo drove Kyokokukamusari into the ground with force. Water splashed upward, scattering through the air and falling across the flesh-made garments of his body.
Then—
Kokushibo fell silent.
His vision was far too sharp.
Naturally, he saw the path of every droplet in the air.
And within each tiny droplet…
He saw countless reflections of himself.
A monstrous self.
For some reason, his anger vanished.
In that instant, he suddenly understood the state of mind Yoriichi had possessed when they had spoken four hundred years ago.
The sun and moon, dwelling beneath the same sky yet never touching one another, seemed to overlap for a single fleeting moment.
What exactly have I left behind in this world…?
Kokushibo began to think.
The Way…
Has my Way truly been this? To become such a grotesque demon?
To exist forever as a demon beneath the Demon King's shadow—immortal, yet eternally suppressed by him?
Why did I become a demon in the first place?!
The flame-like marks on his neck and forehead began to burn.
The sword in his tightly clenched hand started trembling violently.
These four hundred and sixty years of life… they have all been meaningless!
Yoriichi… even now, I still have not become you.
All six eyes closed together.
When they opened again, Kokushibo had already severed his connection to Muzan.
Paying no attention to the panic that must now be erupting within Muzan, Kokushibo reached to his waist and took out a small cloth pouch he had always carried with him.
He untied it.
Inside lay a flute, broken cleanly in half.
He stared at it in silence.
What should I do?
What can I still leave behind?
For the first time in four hundred and sixty years of life, Kokushibo truly felt an emotion called confusion.
"Are you truly a worthy samurai?"
"Do you still remember the lord whose head you cut off?"
The swordsman's words echoed once more in his ears.
Kokushibo lowered his head.
How truly pathetic…
I am.