Abandoned, accepted, and then abandoned once more—at this moment, Kanao had already made up her mind.
In the past, whenever Kanao had to make a decision, she would flip a coin and let fate choose for her.
But this time… was different.
The moment she saw Kanae, all the feelings she had bottled up—her longing, her determination—erupted at once.
Human emotions are like that: drop by drop, they carve through stone; stream by stream, they swell into an ocean. For someone who had already lost so much, Kanao no longer cared what would happen to her, nor whether she even had the right to choose. The only thing she knew was that when an opportunity appeared again, she had to ask herself just one question:
Is this my last chance in this lifetime?
The coin never left her fingers. And yet, she already had her answer.
Kanao no longer argued with Kanae. She simply gazed at her with quiet happiness, listening to her teachings as if she had just come under her care for the first time.
From the side, Ryuji watched Kanae fuss over Kanao with the gentle nagging of a mother, and couldn't help but sigh in admiration.
"Mmm… Kanae would make a wonderful mother."
That earned him a sharp jab in the chest from Mai.
"Then why do you have to go and cause trouble for her?"
"Because," Ryuji replied with an exaggerated sigh, "I happen to like women who are both exceptional and beautiful."
Mai had been ready to swat him on the head with her fan, but after hearing that, she only tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and muttered, "What rotten luck… to be noticed by you."
Ryuji didn't answer. After all, the woman in his arms was just as much of an unlucky soul herself.
In the days that followed, Kagaya Ubuyashiki and his wife, Amane, invited Ryuji several more times. He neither accepted nor refused—preferring to remain noncommittal. Kocho Shinobu, upon learning of Kanae's choice, decided not to interfere.
Meanwhile, the situation within the Demon Slayer Corps steadily worsened.
Though Giyu Tomioka, one of the Hashira, managed to suppress the unruly members with his new recruits, the fractures within the organization had become impossible to hide.
The only reason outright conflict hadn't broken out was simple—Ryuji had not yet slain the final monster.
He knew that once that last creature was gone, Muzan Kibutsuji would vanish entirely… and the Corps would crumble with him. That was why he decided to act only on the last day of Kagaya's life.
It wasn't as if he had much choice. The progress bar marked on the map was climbing steadily. If he delayed any longer, the monster might grow even stronger—or worse, one of the other two creatures might revive. That wasn't something he could afford to gamble on.
He also had no way of knowing just how powerful the last monster truly was. The Corps, crippled as it was, couldn't spare the manpower for reconnaissance, and even the clever messenger crows they sent out never returned. In the end, there was nothing for it but to face the threat himself.
Before setting out, however, Ryuji stopped to see Kagaya one last time.
"Mr. Ryuji… you're going to fight, aren't you?"
He nodded, meeting Kagaya's calm gaze. The truth was, he didn't much care for the man. Killing the monster was for his own sake, not for the sake of the Demon Slayer Corps. His kindness toward them had always been for Mitsuri and the Kocho sisters—everyone knew that.
Ryuji hefted the massive sword in his hand and gave another short nod.
"I am. This is my mission, after all."
Kagaya eased himself back down onto the bed, and Ryuji couldn't help but sigh.
Through his Observation Haki, the extent of the man's suffering was painfully clear. Every organ in his body was diseased. His tongue could still move, but had lost all sensation. His nose was clogged with enormous polyps that made each breath a labor, and his lungs—swollen in some places, shrunken in others—forced him to endure agony with every inhale. His nerves were mostly dead, his blood vessels and muscles rotting away piece by piece.
The only reason he was still alive was because the "lifespan" Ryuji had granted him was a conceptual one, not a true restoration of life. In other words—he was surviving, but not living.
Judging by the timeline, it seemed the moment Ryuji had revived him, Kagaya's body had already been in this ruinous state.
This was the work of hatred—the lingering resentment of those slain by Muzan Kibutsuji. But still…
Why the hell target the Ubuyashiki family instead of Muzan himself?
"I know this request will displease you," Kagaya said, voice trembling, "because it would force you to bear a burden that isn't yours. But still, I must ask… please take command of the Demon Slayer Corps. For those of us who have suffered at the hands of demons, you may be the only one in this era who can find Muzan Kibutsuji."
Kagaya's eyes could no longer see, but somehow he still perceived Ryuji. In his mind's vision, Ryuji appeared as a blazing flame of gold—radiating the sacred presence of a god.
"We'll see when the time comes," Ryuji said flatly. "But honestly? I'm not a fan of your moral blackmail."
"I'm sorry," Kagaya murmured, "but… would you be interested in uniting Japan?"
His frail hand trembled as he held out a letter.
"If you wish to rule this world, the Demon Slayer Corps will be your ally."
"Huh?"
Ryuji hadn't expected Kagaya to say something like that.
But Kagaya only smiled faintly.
"After all," he said, "letting a god rule the world… isn't that a good thing?"
Ryuji shook his head and turned toward the door.
"Spend more time with your wife and children," he said over his shoulder.
With a casual wave of his hand, he left.
His refusal to accept the offer drew a sigh from Amane, though Kagaya himself only chuckled.
"The man never agreed," he murmured, "but he didn't say no, either."
For Kagaya, that was enough. He had done all he could for others. In the final days of his life, he had prepared many things for Ryuji. If Ryuji would take command of the Demon Slayer Corps, everything—resources, authority, influence—would be his, enough to unify the nation.
And truly… entrusting the world to a god with an eye for beauty seemed far safer than letting it be run by people driven purely by greed. Perhaps it wasn't even a problem at all.
When Ryuji stepped outside, Kanae, Shinobu, and Mitsuri—who had insisted on accompanying him—were already waiting. The Hashira who had rushed back from other places didn't so much as glance toward the courtyard behind them.
They all knew Kagaya would die today, and they had long accepted it as inevitable. Instead of lingering, they carried the resolve to die if necessary, choosing to follow Ryuji in exterminating the final monster.
The group was silent.
For Ryuji, though, it was different. His mood hadn't dipped in the slightest; he was even glancing at his phone, making sure he could absorb as much knowledge as possible before the kill.
The others, however, were subdued. To them, Kagaya was like family.
Shinobu in particular felt weighed down. She was caught between Ryuji and the Corps—she could fully understand why he wouldn't accept Kagaya's burden, but she also understood Kagaya's wish to entrust the Corps' future.
She looked at Ryuji and let out a small sigh.
"If only you could be a little more selfish."
Ryuji knew what she meant—if he acted more on his own whims, no one would need to agonize over this. But he only smiled.
"Maybe in the future."
He knew that the shell built by his weaker, civilized self would one day shatter completely. Only fragments remained now, and when it would disappear entirely, even he didn't know—perhaps it would take a single decisive trigger.
After all, it is difficult for people to change.
Shinobu didn't answer, leaning quietly against her sister's shoulder. Outside Ryuji's carriage, the sound of a few male Hashira crying silently could be heard.
They wept for Kagaya's passing.
Not one of them thought Ryuji should be blamed.
After passing through two towns that had begun to flourish again, they marched for three days at forced pace, rested briefly, and pressed on.
Two days later, they finally saw their destination—the place where the monster awaited them. It was still a full day's journey away, and a mountain lay between them.
When they reached the summit and the view opened before them, someone muttered in disbelief,
"What… is that?"
The Hashiras stared wide-eyed at the towering shape in the distance. There should have been a mountain there—but it was gone, replaced by something vast, oppressive, and dark.
A mountain of flesh.
It heaved with countless writhing tendrils and eyes, the largest of which was so immense they could see it from here, rolling within its socket, patterned with strange markings.
Even the battle-hardened Hashiras froze. Ryuji's mouth hung slightly open.
He glanced at his map, then at the thing before them, and fell silent.
Yes.
That mountain in front of them… was their target.
The last monster.
~~~~~~~~~~
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