I don't want to die... I don't want to die...
The shadow of death loomed overhead, and Kibutsuji Muzan found himself willing to abandon everything, as long as he could escape that terrifying woman who hounded his every step.
My heart... my brain... only one left of each... Regeneration is agonizingly slow. That damned poison is stalling my healing, corroding my cells with every passing second...
Letting his body—now little more than a puddle of sludge—plummet downwards, Muzan understood with chilling clarity: if he slowed down even for an instant, Nightingale would catch up and finish him for good.
Why? Why was it that, even after obtaining the Blue Spider Lily at long last, he still could not conquer death itself?
"Nakime! Nakime! Quick—take me as far away from that lunatic as possible! Get me somewhere safe, where I can focus on breaking down this poison in my system! Get that woman out of the Infinity Castle!"
"And another thing! Set all the demons loose! Tonight, I want the Demon Slayer Corps erased from this world! Kill those swordsmen and the Ubuyashiki family, all of them! The Ubuyashikis are still in that mansion, aren't they? Have Kokushibo slaughter everyone inside!!"
Nakime was nowhere nearby, but Muzan could communicate with her through their connection via demon blood.
But in the very next moment, the single blood-threaded eyeball Muzan used to see through Nakime surged with a mix of fury and panic.
"What do you mean... the Ubuyashiki isn't there...? What is going on?!"
"We've been deceived? The Ubuyashiki we saw just now was actually a male demon using his Blood Demon Art to impersonate him? And now the real Ubuyashiki and his wife and children can't be found?!"
This should have been impossible. After all, Muzan controlled nearly every demon in existence—he not only knew their exact locations, but could hear their thoughts. Any demon with the slightest inkling of rebellion would immediately die in agony, their demon blood devouring them from within.
Except for—
"Tamayo! Is this your handiwork again?!"
Muzan's suspicion was spot on. The one impersonating Ubuyashiki Kagaya inside the mansion was none other than Yushirou, Tamayo's loyal retainer.
Yushirou's Blood Demon Art, [Meikakushi] (Eye Concealment), was exactly what it sounded like: an ability that could obscure vision, mask appearances, and create visual illusions.
Because this Art only affected sight, Yushirou's disguise wouldn't fool someone like Kokushibo, who wielded the Transparent World. But since reconnaissance was Nakime's responsibility, and Muzan was sharing Nakime's vision, the trick worked.
Rage and terror warred inside Muzan. His reason flickered out, his blood roiling, and the poison gnawing at him only worsened. The agony snapped him back to his senses, forcing him to repress the deadly toxins within.
"...No matter. So what if the Ubuyashiki got away? The most crucial thing has already been accomplished: the Blue Spider Lily is mine! As long as I purge this poison, I will become an immortal, indestructible being. I'll have all the time I need to hunt down the Ubuyashiki clan. What matters now is escaping that insane woman's pursuit!"
"Nakime! We may not have the Ubuyashiki, but the swordsmen must still be here, right? Bring them all into the Infinity Castle immediately—throw them into the midst of the demons! Have Kokushibo deal with those troublesome Hashira one by one. And send every Upper Moon except Kokushibo to hold back that madwoman!"
This wasn't because Muzan trusted Kokushibo's strength so absolutely. The real reason was fear—he wanted to concentrate every ounce of power around himself for protection.
Nakime sat unmoving in the center of the Infinity Castle, making no comment on Muzan's orders, the picture of absolute obedience.
She understood better than anyone just how unreasonable and tyrannical her current master could be. For the sake of her own survival, she would carry out any order without question, no matter how absurd—obedient to the point of being a soulless machine.
With a gentle pluck of her biwa, the music reverberated through the Infinity Castle. All the Upper Moons—except for Kokushibo—were summoned to Muzan's side.
Among them, Nightingale immediately recognized Akaza, Hantengu, Daki and Gyutaro. The rest were unfamiliar—presumably new Upper Moons Muzan had recruited recently, given that Nightingale herself had already slain nearly half of the original Upper Moons, leaving their numbers depleted.
"Out of my way! I'm pressed for time—purging must be completed!"
Nightingale's eyes were cold and focused, not daring to relax for even a second.
The Infinity Castle was entirely under Nakime's control. If Nightingale slowed down and the doors closed, who knew where Muzan might be teleported next? Finding him again could become nearly impossible—or worse, Nakime might eject Nightingale from the castle altogether.
"Don't get cocky, you maniac!"
Muzan roared at Nightingale, though he sounded more desperate than threatening. "I've already brought every nearby Demon Slayer into the Infinity Castle and sent demons to hunt them down! You can't save them! Not a single one! You're all going to die! This is the price of your foolishness!"
Nightingale, having just twisted the head off an unfamiliar Upper Moon demon, saw the door about to shut. She wasted no words: raising her gun, she fired several holes into the wooden door, then hurled the severed demon's head with all her might. The battered door burst apart, and Nightingale seized the chance to leap through.
Muzan was trying to shake Nightingale's resolve, but after hearing his threats, there wasn't a single ripple in those blood-red eyes.
Muzan despised—no, hated—that look.
Because the nightmare that had tormented him for centuries after his near-death at the hands of Yoriichi Tsugikuni... had possessed the very same eyes.
Back then, after Yoriichi gravely wounded him, Muzan's face had turned an ugly shade of black-red. Yoriichi assumed it was rage—but in truth, Muzan had been paralyzed with fear.
As Nightingale battled multiple Upper Moons while relentlessly pursuing Muzan, the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps found themselves cast into the Infinity Castle as well.
Now, every demon within the castle—even the weakest—possessed Lower Moon-level strength. But since they had all been hastily created by Muzan, saturated with demon blood and given no time to adjust, most of them were even easier to defeat than ordinary Lower Moons.
Still, a horde of mass-produced Lower Moon demons was a death sentence for any non-Hashira Demon Slayer. These creatures always appeared in swarms—the sight alone could freeze a person's blood.
The "Pillars" could mow down these Lower Moons like weeds. To Shinobu and the others, it didn't matter how many came—they were little more than cannon fodder. But they were only human: their stamina was finite, and these demon grunts could wear them down by sheer numbers.
For the ordinary members, it was a nightmare with no escape. Caught in the tidal wave of demons, there was no fate but death or being devoured.
At least, that's how it should have been...
"Everyone! Don't panic! Just follow the drills from our training!"
As the monstrous tide of demons crashed towards them, the Demon Slayer members gathered together, led by someone standing calmly at the front, barking orders.
For a thousand years, the only sure way to kill a demon had been to sever its neck with a Nichirin Blade. That was the method passed down through the Corps, save for a few recent exceptions—like Shinobu with her poisons, or Gyomei, whose sheer force could obliterate a demon's head in one strike.
But now, facing the demon horde, the Demon Slayers didn't draw their Nichirin Blades. Instead, they raised muskets—bayonets gleaming, barrels steady.
As the demons' snarling, twisted faces drew closer, the stench of blood rolling over them like a flood, the commander's eyes hardened.
"On my mark—First Squad: open fire!"
BANG!
In perfect unison, the first row of Demon Slayers squeezed their triggers. The bullets erupted from their guns, faster than the eye could follow.
The leading demons were struck—and in the next instant, the wounds began to corrode and rot at a supernatural rate. In the blink of an eye, those demons dissolved into puddles of blood and drifting ash.
"First Squad, reload! Second Squad—fire a volley! Third Squad, get ready! If you're running low on ammo, fall back to the supply crew!"
Scenes like this played out across every corner of the Infinity Castle.
It was the classic three-line musket tactic: while one squad fired, another stood ready, and the third reloaded. Their bullets were specially crafted, inspired by Nightingale's "gun-like injector"—each round filled with a demon-slaying poison devised by Nightingale's team. A single graze was enough to kill any ordinary demon, and every bullet had enough force to pierce through three demons at once.
In the past, facing Lower Moons meant ordinary members could only pray for the Hashira's help. But today, they could reap these once-dreaded demons like fields of wheat.
The satisfaction of vengeance surged through every Demon Slayer. They followed their orders, firing again and again, letting bullet after bullet lay waste to the demon tide.
They had waited for this moment for far too long.
Their poison could only kill demons of Lower Moon strength or less—Upper Moons and Muzan himself wouldn't die instantly; they could neutralize the toxins, break them down. If Muzan wished, he could even make his minions resistant.
That was why Nightingale and her team only distributed the poison to the Corps members right before the plan began—striking Muzan and his army before they could prepare.
The mass-produced Lower Moon demons would fall to the ordinary members. Anything they couldn't handle—Nightingale and the Hashira would take care of.
Deep in the lowest, darkest depths of the Infinity Castle, atop a platform bristling with countless pillars, the most ferocious, terrifying demon raged—
Upper Moon One—Kokushibo.
His sword unleashed a blinding storm of slashes, shredding the earth, splitting the air. Even if one dodged the blades themselves, the countless crescent-shaped sword waves would tear flesh to ribbons.
[Moon Breathing, Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon - Incessant]
At the heart of that storm, Sanemi Shinazugawa fought with everything he had—breathing hard, sword flashing again and again.
[Wind Breathing, Third Form: Clean Storm Wind Tree]
Wind whipped around him, his dynamic vision pushed to the absolute limit just to parry the eerie, ever-shifting blades.
Damn it... what kind of swordsmanship is this? Every swing carries dozens of fine, irregular edges—changing in length and shape, never the same twice...
There was no time to speak, no room for error. Even a moment's lapse meant certain death. Sanemi could only leap away, seeking the briefest respite from that nightmare range.
Thankfully, he wasn't alone.
As Kokushibo moved to pursue him, two more titanic presences closed in, every bit as fierce—one burning like a blazing inferno, the other unyielding as stone.
[Flame Breathing, Third Form: Blazing Universe]
[Stone Breathing, First Form: Serpentinite Bipolar]
Forced to halt his chase, Kokushibo spun around, facing Kyojuro Rengoku and Gyomei Himejima head-on—unflinching, swinging his blade without a trace of fear.
No one could even see Kokushibo's sword arm move—only the crescent blades slicing the earth and fire alike to shreds.
[Moon Breathing, Third Form: Loathsome Moon, Chains]
It was like hurling sand or razor blades into a tornado—everything caught in that razor wind was pulverized.
Though they outnumbered him, Kokushibo held the clear advantage.
Every Hashira facing him was already wounded—Sanemi's right hand missing two fingers, a savage slash marking Gyomei's face, blood flowing from Kyojuro's forehead, stomach, and thigh.
"Such exquisite skill, bodies honed to the utmost, teamwork in perfect harmony. I see now..."
Kokushibo stood amid the battered ground, every inch a glaring weak point—yet the aura he radiated was suffocating. It felt as if, should anyone step forward, they'd be cut down in a single instant.
"No wonder you dared to challenge me. I see now it's not arrogance or desperation. Let me commend you—your efforts have granted me a sliver of enjoyment."
---
Ah, parting is always such sweet sorrow, isn't it? Yet, even the gods must occasionally retreat into the shadows, leaving their beloved adventurers longing for more.
My darlings, thank you for accompanying me on this intoxicating journey. Remember, every end is but the prelude to a new beginning—and you've all entertained me immensely. Do continue to support our dear translator, won't you? Cast those Powerstones generously (Every 100 Powerstones = 1 Bonus Chapter!), and perhaps you'll lure me back sooner than expected.
Should your heart desire more, the translator's Patreon (patreon.com/wisetl) awaits, filled with optional yet enticing rewards—including exclusive early access chapters. And of course, the gates of our Discord (discord.gg/wisetl) remain wide open. Join your fellow adventurers; perhaps you'll find another divine secret hidden within~
Though I must withdraw for now, never forget—my eyes remain ever watchful. Grow stronger, shine brighter, and perhaps we shall meet again in another captivating tale.
Farewell, my lovely adventurers… Until fate entwines our paths once more.
-Freya