Though he didn't know what had happened in the mountains, judging by the commotion, it wasn't hard to tell that someone was fighting Douma.
The Demon Slayer Corps?
As soon as the thought flashed through Yoriichi's mind, he continued to press forward into the depths of the mountains.
No matter who was battling Douma, it wouldn't affect his goal of getting Kibutsuji Muzan's location from Douma.
As Yoriichi delved deeper into the forest, the commotion ahead became clearer.
Atop the mountain, Douma's calm voice continued to echo.
The icy mist he emitted spread like a fine veil, slowly permeating the air, freezing everything in its path and making it difficult for the surrounding swordsmen to breathe.
The extreme cold was like a ferocious ice beast, rampaging all around.
Even before getting close, the bone-chilling cold seemed to penetrate one's soul, making them shiver.
"Hahaha, my dear humans, I truly admire your courage."
Douma lightly fanned himself with his iron fan, a wide, smiling grin on his face.
But there was a hint of falseness in his admiring tone.
"Though I'm not sure where your courage comes from, don't you think it's a bit too naive to try and defeat me with just these people?"
"I'm not that guy Akaza."
Douma's gaze slowly swept around.
First to catch his eye were the three girls.
Two of them were probably Hashira.
Then, his gaze fell upon the others.
Two Head Captains, not worth worrying about at all.
The only one that concerned Douma was the burly man who looked like a monk, wielding a meteor hammer not far away.
The aura he emitted was comparable to Akaza's.
However, even Akaza was quite ordinary in Douma's eyes.
Douma smiled, about to speak.
Whoosh—!
Gyomei Himejima swung his meteor hammer like a phantom, stirring up a gale and causing a sharp, piercing sound in the air.
He held his other hand in front of him, softly chanting a Buddhist prayer: "Amitabha…"
In his pale eyes, he seemed to see the characters engraved in Douma's eyes.
Gyomei Himejima silently shed tears, his voice filled with sorrow:
"Upper Moon One… So that's it, you are the master of this Eternal Paradise Faith…"
"Pitiful, tragic, humans worshiping demons without even knowing it…"
Before he could finish, Douma interrupted him: "Why can't humans worship demons?"
"My Eternal Paradise Faith has allowed those humans to find their true home."
He chuckled twice, "Speaking of which, humans are truly pitiful, but fortunately, I have given them new hope."
"Now you are destroying it without a word, is that really okay?"
With a snap, he closed his iron fan, perfectly feigning a look of schadenfreude, which made Shinazugawa Sanemi's veins throb in his forehead not far away.
"Huh!?"
Shinazugawa Sanemi fiercely swung his nichirin blade, the blade glinting as if it could cleave the air itself.
His tone was irritable:
"What kind of bullshit are you spouting? If you're talking about those believers, I've already sent people to round them all up!"
"What hope do a bunch of scoundrels who help evil have?!"
"You don't think your Eternal Paradise Faith is very important, do you? What a joke!"
"It's nothing more than deliberately destroying other people's families through deception and trickery!"
"Upper Moon One, bah, disgusting, has no one told you that your tone is very hypocritical? It's truly nauseating!"
Shinazugawa Sanemi's attitude was unconcealed, and the smile on Douma's face suddenly froze, then gradually faded away.
After a moment, Douma sighed with a hint of helplessness: "That's why I hate pretending to be human the most."
He waved his hand: "Blood Demon Art, Scattering Lotuses."
Countless ice crystals, like flower petals, spread wantonly forward, those ice crystals, like sharp blades, gleamed with a cold light, carrying an unbearable low temperature.
Everything they touched was instantly cut, making a grating sound.
More than half of them whistled towards Shinazugawa Sanemi, like a pack of hungry ice wolves, pouncing on their prey with bared fangs.
Shinazugawa Sanemi's expression was ferocious; he was about to swing his blade forward.
But Gyomei Himejima's meteor hammer arrived first, smashing all those white ice crystal petals.
Crack crack—!
"Be careful."
Gyomei Himejima reminded him.
Their only task at the moment was to buy time for the smaller teams to rescue all the humans in the Eternal Paradise Faith.
If a real battle were to break out, the Hashira-level swordsmen here would not fear Douma at all, but compared to slaying Douma, rescuing people was undoubtedly the most important.
He couldn't escape.
Shinazugawa Sanemi "tch'd" at this.
His arm muscles tensed, creaking.
Douma noticed these changes and asked with a smile:
"Are you trying to buy time?"
"It's pointless."
"Because humans are pitiful creatures by nature, even if you rescue them, I can still develop a new batch of believers."
"Or are you waiting for dawn?"
Douma looked up at the sky; the dense night was like a heavy curtain, and as the breeze blew, it made him feel refreshed.
He opened his mouth, his voice unhurried:
"There are still ten hours until dawn, and I don't think you can kill me within ten hours, because you are humans."
"Unless the sun rises now…"
Before he finished speaking, an extremely bright burst of light appeared in Douma's line of sight.
The light was like a sun close at hand, scorching and dazzling, instantly dispelling the surrounding darkness and causing his iridescent pupils to shrink involuntarily.
—Sunlight?
The thought had just surfaced.
With a rumble, all the ice crystals around Douma shattered and melted, and the chill in the surrounding air was completely driven away.
Reflected in Douma's eyes was the image of a person holding fire, descending from the sky.
No, that wasn't fire, but a blade wreathed in flames.
The flames on the blade burned fiercely, as if they could incinerate all evil!
Just by its illumination, Douma felt his Blood Demon Art completely suppressed, unable to even conjure a single wisp of icy mist!
What's going on!
He looked at the man with a stiff expression.
Although he couldn't feel any emotion, he still felt a sense of oppression similar to facing Muzan.
It was heavy, making it hard to breathe.
"Who are you?"
Douma slightly tightened his iron fan, attempting to use his Blood Demon Art, but unfortunately, whenever the cold air left his fan, it would completely vanish, like trying to create ice in a desert.
Human? What kind of human is this?
Can he suppress a demon just by his aura?
Yoriichi did not answer Douma.
He first surveyed the surrounding Demon Slayer swordsmen, and after seeing that they were safe and sound, he slowly said:
"You don't need to know my name."
"I came to kill you."
"Tell Muzan."
"He can't escape."
"The fate that has entangled us for four hundred years, it's time for it to completely unravel today."
…
This tone seemed as calm as water.
Yet Douma clearly felt a resolute state of mind, an unwavering determination.
At the same time, a faint killing intent quietly permeated the air.
As if this person and Lord Muzan had an irreconcilable grudge.
Douma frowned in thought.
But he couldn't recall ever seeing the other party.
This was because Yoriichi's attire this time was completely different from last time.
Just then, the Nichirin earrings caught Douma's eye.
His thoughts flashed like lightning.
Instantly, he recalled everything.
"Haha, so that's it, you're the demon slayer Lord Muzan mentioned, aren't you?"
Although a heavy pressure enveloped his heart.
But Douma didn't care at all.
In his view, the ultimate outcome was merely death.
Death meant nothing to him.
There was no fear in Douma's eyes, nor surprise.
More than that, it was a sense of calm after a sudden realization.
He nodded slightly: "I finally get to see you. Lord Kokushibou was killed by you, wasn't he? Now, are you here to kill me too?"
Yoriichi stood quietly, his eyes cold as frost, his white robes gently fluttering in the breeze.
He merely glanced at Douma, but did not answer.
Douma was not discouraged and continued: "Can you tell me how Lord Kokushibou died back then?"
"A fate entangled for four hundred years…"
"You're from four hundred years ago?"
Douma had many questions in his heart; he figured since he was about to die anyway, he might as well learn more before his demise.
As for escaping…
Douma knew he couldn't escape.
Even someone as strong as Kokushibou had perished.
Even if he was now Upper Moon One, in terms of physical ability, he was still far inferior to Kokushibou.
Moreover, his Blood Demon Art, which he relied on, was now suppressed.
Death was only a matter of time.
Yoriichi remained silent, only slightly tightening his grip on the blade in his hand.
Immediately after.
Douma only felt a blur before his eyes.
A cold light flashed and disappeared.
He hastily tried to block with his iron fan.
However, in the next instant, his head, along with the iron fan, was directly severed.
The speed was so fast, the movement so subtle, it was like a gentle breeze passing by.
Douma instantly realized that his head had lost connection with his body.
He let out a soft "Eh."
"Thump-thump," his head rolled twice on the ground.
Then it stopped moving.
Although he could still speak, this was merely a dying gasp.
In Douma's iridescent pupils, Yoriichi's calm act of sheathing his blade was reflected.
He asked in confusion: "Why?"
He wasn't asking why he was dying.
He was merely questioning why Yoriichi wouldn't even give him an answer to a single question.
In his eyes, was he so insignificant?
After all, he was Upper Moon One.
Douma felt no emotions.
His life force gradually ebbed away.
He blinked.
Suddenly, he saw Yoriichi, blade in hand, walk up to his body.
His body gradually turned to ash and dispersed.
At the same time, memories from his human life flashed like sparks in Douma's mind.
However, he still felt no emotions.
"Whoosh—" His soul was pulled out.
The demon's consciousness completely dissipated.
Douma lowered his gaze and looked at his own body.
Even though he had become a soul, an existence transcending the mundane, his eyes remained as calm as a clear, ripple-less surface of water.
He faced Yoriichi and suddenly spoke:
"Are you a god?"
He remembered everything from his human life.
Back then, his followers regarded him as a deity.
Because he was born with a pair of peculiar iridescent pupils and hair as pure white as oak.
Since childhood, his parents had considered him a messenger of God.
Believing that he could surely hear the voice of God.
But unfortunately, Douma felt nothing about it.
He heard no voices.
Because he was just an ordinary child, merely lacking emotions.
However, to please the adults.
He eventually pretended to be able to hear.
But in reality, he secretly despised the adults' foolishness.
He believed there was no God.
Any human who dared to pursue God was a truly pitiful creature.
He thought he must have been born into this world to help these pitiful people find happiness.
In that era, ignorance was the mainstream.
Thus, he regarded himself as a god.
And he had always believed that.
Because he was special.
So special that he couldn't understand anything about humans.
But now, he finally understood that his so-called specialness was nothing at all.
The man before him was truly special.
To be able to extract his soul… what a strange fellow.
If he didn't know he was Lord Muzan's enemy, involved with humans, and could bask in sunlight.
Douma would have thought he was a demon too.
The so-called soul extraction was just a Blood Demon Art.
"God?" Yoriichi frowned slightly.
He suddenly noticed that Douma hadn't changed at all.
As if what a demon was, a human was the same.
Lack of emotion?
This thought flashed through Yoriichi's mind.
He didn't dwell on it, but calmly said: "I am not a god."
"Now you have no connection with Kibutsuji Muzan."
"Do you know the location of the Infinite Castle?"
"The Infinite Castle?" Although he had lost his demon consciousness.
Douma still understood Yoriichi's objective.
He smiled faintly: "I know."
"Do you want to kill him?"
"I don't think there's any point."
"Even without demons."
"Humans are still pitiful creatures."
"They will quarrel, they will kill, they will envy, they will resent, and the tragedies they cause are not much less than those caused by demons."
"The reason I was willing to become a demon back then was to see how many more years of tragedy this species, humans, could continue."
"Now, two hundred years later, I understand that humans will never change; only demons are perfect."
"Unfortunately, you killed me."
These words were like a demon's monologue.
Even though his soul had become human.
Douma was still thinking from a perspective detached from humanity itself.
Undeniably, he might have been right about everything.
But, imperfection is also a kind of perfection.
Because only then can one see their flaws and continuously improve.
Yoriichi said nothing.
He merely quietly repeated his question.
Douma sighed upon hearing this: "Alright, alright, I'm already dead, there's no point in dwelling on the past. Whether humans are pitiful or not, it no longer concerns me."
"The location of the Infinite Castle is…"
After stating the location, a hint of nostalgia appeared on Douma's face.
It was unclear whether it was genuine nostalgia or a deliberate pretense.
"To be honest, I'm quite interested in Muzan himself."
"He was able to turn me into a demon, granting me immortality, which indicates he is also a god-like existence."
"I was very moved when I first saw him."
"But unfortunately, even he pales in comparison to you."
"Are you really a god?"