Kokushibou had always believed that no matter how powerful his opponent might be, his expression would remain calm, unmoved.
But now, as he saw the red blade glowing with heat, a rare tremble ran through his face. A memory surged within him—familiar, distant, unforgettable. That blade, that heat... it brought with it the pain he thought he had long buried.
Far away in the Infinite Castle, Muzan, who was observing the fight through Kokushibou's eyes, wore an expression twisted with rage. His fingers trembled slightly, and the fury in his voice echoed like thunder through the minds of his Upper Moons.
"Kill him! Kokushibou, Gyokko—kill him now!" Muzan bellowed.
Meanwhile, James stood with red energy surging around him. The water droplets on his skin had long since evaporated, and his body temperature continued to rise.
But he had no intention of awakening the Demon Slayer Mark—not because he couldn't, but because he chose not to.
He had absolute control over his body. If he didn't will it, the mark wouldn't manifest. The rising temperature was simply a combat adjustment—enhanced speed, greater strength, and improved muscle coordination.
If this were the Type-Moon world, you'd say:
Strength: B → A.
In the glow of that crimson light, James' piercing crystal-blue eyes shimmered. A soft wind stirred the forest dust as night deepened.
Bang! Bang!
Fiery sparks erupted where Kokushibou's and James' swords clashed. The Upper Moon felt his weapon vibrate violently, a sickening sizzle echoing through the metal. His blade, made from his own flesh, seemed to be wailing.
Strike after strike—one, two, a hundred, two hundred—neither could count how many blows had already been exchanged.
There was no question—Kokushibou was a true master of the sword. Perhaps in this world, only two swordsmen had reached such a peak: Tsugikuni Yoriichi and Tsugikuni Michikatsu—now known as Kokushibou.
But between the two brothers, a gap remained. Yoriichi had become a master while alive. Kokushibou only reached that peak long after his brother's death, through centuries of grinding battles.
Even if James didn't have a clear advantage in technique, his red blade—burning hot and forged to slay demons—gave him overwhelming lethality.
Ding!
A sharp crack split the air as Kokushibou's blade fractured—then shattered. The weapon, built from his own flesh, couldn't withstand the red blade's power. And worse—it couldn't regenerate immediately.
Kokushibou's expression changed. He leapt backward instantly.
But James was already surging forward, refusing to give him a moment's reprieve.
Still, Kokushibou wasn't done yet.
Despite being chased, he stopped midair, twisting his body and swinging his broken blade at James.
No—he wasn't attacking with the sword itself.
"Breath of the Moon – Fifth Form: Moon Spirit Calamitous Eddy!"
It was one of the few techniques Kokushibou could use without needing a full blade swing. He had chosen it as a trap—a massive, unpredictable area-of-effect attack designed to catch James mid-charge.
A swirl of slashes erupted around him, forming a giant vortex of slicing energy. Sword light slashed in every direction—every tree, stone, and plant caught in the radius was cleaved apart. James was directly inside its path.
No time to dodge?
Then don't dodge.
"Solar Breathing – Third Form: Revolving Heaven!"
James spun his blade at incredible speed, forming a dome of red sword light around him. The layers of crimson energy built and built—until the swirling energy coalesced into a glowing sphere, an impenetrable shell of fire and steel.
That scarlet sphere expanded rapidly, and whatever touched it was either deflected or disintegrated.
The sheer force created a massive tornado, centered on James. Its howling winds could be seen from kilometers away, shredding everything in its path.
Kokushibou's sword storm clashed with the scarlet dome—BOOM! A thunderous shockwave rang out. The tornado shattered, but Kokushibou was thrown back violently.
He couldn't be blamed—no defensive sword technique of this scale had ever existed in this world.
As the shock faded, James exhaled and looked toward Kokushibou's retreating figure. But he didn't sense only one threat.
A cold, wet hand was silently touching his back.
Gyokko.
The real trap.
While Kokushibou had kept James occupied, Gyokko had crept behind him with a sinister touch.
Gyokko's "God's Hand" was his ultimate blood demon art—anything it touched would instantly be turned into a fish. He had planned it perfectly.
But—
"I've been waiting for you, Gyokko."
James turned around instantly, flames of power igniting in his eyes. After performing Revolving Heaven, he hadn't lost stamina—he had only been preparing for another attack.
The moment Gyokko had vanished earlier, James had kept his senses trained, waiting for this moment.
In order to use his final form, Gyokko had to shed his pot and reveal his true body, which made him unable to use his teleportation abilities.
Now was the time.
Gyokko's upper body remained humanoid, but his lower body had transformed into a mermaid-like tail. His infant-like hands were now muscular, grotesquely thick, ready to deliver a fatal blow.
But James wouldn't let him.
"Solar Breathing – First Form: Crimson Slash!"
It was the first move James had created after arriving in the Demon Slayer world—borrowed heavily from the style of Yamamoto Genryusai from another universe. It was flawed, sure—but one thing it didn't lack was raw power.
A line of red sliced through Gyokko—from the top of his head to the end of his tail. Blood erupted as his body split clean down the middle.
James didn't hesitate. Seeing Gyokko struggling to reform, he immediately raised his blade and aimed for the neck.
But Kokushibou rushed forward with his broken sword, attempting to defend his ally.
Gyokko's recovery would take time. And if Kokushibou were to focus on defending him, it would compromise his own mobility.
Kokushibou made his decision in an instant.
He wouldn't protect Gyokko.
Instead, he'd use Gyokko as bait.
If James struck again, Kokushibou would launch a surprise counter and end this once and for all.
Kokushibou deflected James' red blade, then jumped back several paces, maintaining enough distance to react.
James narrowed his eyes.
Kokushibou was calculating, ruthless. Far harder to deal with than Gyokko. And their strength… it was nearly equal. James had only a slight edge.
To kill Kokushibou would be nearly impossible.
But killing Upper Five Gyokko? That was still within reach. Once he was gone, James could fight Kokushibou without restriction—and if he could drag the battle until sunrise, the demon would be forced to flee.
But what about Tanjirou's side? Would they survive without help?
This could be Kokushibou's trap—forcing James to reveal a weakness by trying to finish Gyokko quickly.
Should I use Sun Breathing?
If he did, he might be able to kill one of them right now.
But what if Muzan vanished for centuries afterward? What if he simply created more Upper Moons to replace the fallen? The status quo wouldn't change. And James—he couldn't stay here forever.
The two warriors stood still.
James' red-hot sword gleamed in the moonlight.
Kokushibou's six eyes stared solemnly ahead.
Then—
"Kokushibou. Fall back."
The command rang inside Kokushibou's mind. Muzan's voice.
He was… afraid?
"My Lord, why?"
"That's an order. Retreat!"
"…Yes, Lord Muzan. And what about Gyokko—?"
At this point, Gyokko was just a liability.
"Leave him."
"…Understood."
Kokushibou didn't turn his back—he continued facing James, even as he slowly backed away.
Once he was far enough, he turned and vanished into the forest, away from the swordsmith village.
James watched him disappear into the distance. He remained still, both hands gripping his sword tightly. His eyes scanned the battlefield with precision, confirming no more threats remained.
Finally, he turned to Gyokko—still squirming, still trying to heal.
"Upper Five… Gyokko," he said coldly.
"Die."
With one swift motion, James decapitated Gyokko cleanly. The demon's head rolled to the ground—and then disintegrated into ash.
Øóffer going on for diamond tier
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