Muzan's grotesque form loomed like a god of calamity, a beast stitched together by centuries of blood, rage, and malice. Every breath he exhaled warped the air around him.
But Giyu Tomioka… was unmoved.
He stepped forward, the wind around him cold and sharp, his eyes emotionless—
but his heart, for the first time in years, was burning.
"You killed them all…"
His voice, soft yet glacial, echoed across the battlefield.
"…and you're still trying to pretend you're immortal?"
He didn't wait for Tanjiro.
He didn't wait for a plan.
Water Breathing, Seventh Form: Piercing Rain Drop.
Slash.
Giyu vanished into the air, slicing straight toward Muzan's chest. Tendrils shot from Muzan's back, dozens of them, lashing in all directions—
but Giyu moved like a phantom, evading, countering, slashing.
Muzan clicked his tongue, mildly amused.
"You think a single Hashira can oppose me?"
CRACK!
Tendrils struck the earth like whips, launching Giyu back—only for him to rebound and strike again.
Tanjiro stood frozen, just a moment—until something strange happened.
He heard voices.
But not of his allies.
A vision—
five figures stood before him, all of them bathed in the faint glow of fading humanity.
Rui, eyes lowered.
Kyogai, arms clasped around his drums.
Daki and Gyutaro, side by side—silent.
And Akaza, looking directly into Tanjiro's soul.
"You've seen what we became," Akaza spoke. "But once… we were human. End it. End him."
Tanjiro gritted his teeth.
He roared, joining Giyu.
"Hinokami Kagura: Flame Dance!"
He twirled, flames spiraling around him, pushing back Muzan's lashings.
But Muzan lashed out—a fist the size of a boulder slammed into the ground, sending shockwaves that shattered the earth beneath them.
Tanjiro and Giyu were flung back like ragdolls.
Boom!
A howling gust cut through the air.
"MOVE, SCUM!!"
From the smoke, Sanemi Shinazugawa rocketed forward, his blade shrieking as he released—
Wind Breathing, Fifth Form: Cold Mountain Wind!
Blades of air swirled, slicing through Muzan's tendrils.
And from above—Obanai Iguro descended like a viper, blade in hand—
Serpent Breathing, Fifth Form: Slithering Serpent!
His strike carved along Muzan's shoulder, black blood erupting in a hiss.
The four slayers now stood united.
Giyu, breathing heavy but unwavering.
Tanjiro, emboldened by voices of the fallen.
Sanemi, laughing with wild fury.
Obanai, coiled like a deadly serpent.
Muzan snarled.
They were no longer insects.
They were the blades of judgment.