— — — — — —
Kokushibo stood calmly, facing the five Demon Slayers. He gave his blade a slight shake, flicking off the blood beads still clinging to it.
Then he asked, voice calm but puzzled: "Sun Breathing. Transparent World. Where did you learn these techniques? They were erased from history."
Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira, grunted through gritted teeth, clutching the fresh wound on his torso. He gave a crooked grin.
"Damn it… that was close. Almost got sliced in half back there."
"Be careful," Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira, warned grimly. His sharp eyes were locked on Kokushibo. "This man is nothing like the other Upper Kizuki we've faced."
Despite outnumbering him five to one, they were barely holding their ground—and almost lost a man in the process. All of them had taken injuries.
Kokushibo's power was beyond anything they'd imagined.
"A demon who got this strong purely on his own..." Gyomei Himejima, the Stone Hashira, muttered as he tied off the bleeding from his arm. His voice was low and heavy. "Seems even among the Upper Kizuki, the gap in strength is enormous."
In his mind, the ranking was clear: Kokushibo was in a class of his own, and the rest of the Upper Kizuki were just... everyone else.
"Hey," Obanai Iguro, the Serpent Hashira, called out dryly to Sanemi, "you still alive?"
"Not dead yet," Sanemi replied with a grin. "Worry about yourself. Your arm's practically hanging by a thread."
He adjusted his breathing technique to stop the bleeding, though the pain clearly hadn't gone anywhere.
Tengen Uzui, the Sound Hashira, glanced toward another stone bridge not far from theirs, his brow furrowed.
"Things over there aren't looking too good either..."
On that other bridge, Giyu Tomioka, the Water Hashira, was tangled in a brutal two-on-one against the Upper Kizuki demon Daki.
She and her brother Gyutaro shared a body and power—making it effectively a 2v1 battle. Even with Giyu having unlocked Sun Breathing, the Mark, and Transparent World, he was barely holding his ground.
Meanwhile, the Flower Hashira was still tied down commanding the main Demon Slayer forces, holding off over two thousand low-level demons. No backup was coming.
Tengen, who usually didn't care for Giyu much, couldn't help but feel uneasy.
"Is this really okay?" he said. "We're just letting Giyu take on Daki alone?"
Obanai glanced at Kokushibo and replied flatly:
"Even if we wanted to help, pulling just one of us away might be enough to tip the balance—then we'd be the ones holding on for dear life."
Kokushibo had managed to stall five of the strongest Hashira on a single bridge, and none of them saw a clear way to victory.
And then, still not having received an answer, Kokushibo finally spoke again, voice cold and emotionless:
"Demon Slayers… no matter how hard you struggle, your fate is already sealed."
Sanemi sneered. "You've got a lot of nerve saying that, traitor. You sold us out to Muzan, remember?"
"Traitor?" Kokushibo's six eyes shifted ever so slightly.
"And what if I am?" he said, voice devoid of remorse.
"I figured it out long ago—during my life as a human."
"Humans have limits. No matter how much talent, how much effort, you'll never reach the true peak of swordsmanship within a human lifespan."
"And that's why you turned your back on the Demon Slayer Corps?" Gyomei growled, gripping his axe and flail tightly. "How pitiful."
"Pitiful?" Kokushibo scoffed. "Death by old age—that's the true shame of a swordsman!"
Just then, a cackling voice rang out from above. "Heeheehee! Lord Kokushibo, allow me to lend you a hand!"
The final Upper Kizuki, Hantengu, came soaring down from the sky—only to be sliced midair by a crescent-shaped slash that tore through his arm.
Staring blankly at his severed limb, Hantengu was dumbfounded.
Kokushibo calmly sheathed his blade.
"A duel between swordsmen allows for no outside interference."
"For real man?" Hantengu thought, hovering in the air. "You call this a fair sword fight? It's five against one!"
Still, since Kokushibo didn't want help, Hantengu shrugged and backed off, choosing instead to float in the air like some weird cheerleader.
"Alright, fine! I won't butt in!"
"Let's go, Kokushibo! You got this! Woo!"
Tengen Uzui's eyebrow twitched.
"This is bad…" he muttered, eyeing Hantengu warily.
Kokushibo may have forbidden him from fighting—but with an Upper Kizuki lurking right nearby, who's to say he wouldn't sneak in a cheap shot?
With Kokushibo and Hantengu working together, the entire main force of the Demon Slayer Corps might be wiped out right here.
"We don't have a choice anymore," Gyomei said grimly.
The Hashira could feel it in their bones—this might be their last stand.
Just then, a quiet voice called out from behind them:
"Stand down."
All six of Kokushibo's eyes turned to the source of the voice, along with the five stunned Hashira.
A black-haired man stood silently at the other end of the bridge, dressed in a dark kimono with twin swords at his waist. It was as if he had been there the whole time—so still and so quiet that they hadn't even sensed his presence until he spoke.
"Another Demon Slayer?" Kokushibo asked flatly.
But the five Hashira were all wide-eyed.
"...Lord Yagami?"
"Ryo?!"
Kyojuro instinctively stepped forward, ready to protect him—but seeing the look in Ryo's eyes, he bit his lip and stepped aside.
The other four followed suit, retreating without a word to give Ryo the space he requested.
Kokushibo eyed the newcomer with all six of his eyes.
"Head of the Demon Slayers, huh? A descendant of the Ubuyashiki clan? You don't look much like the ones I killed before."
At that, five glares shot toward Kokushibo like daggers.
Even though Ubuyashiki had stepped down, their respect and gratitude for the clan hadn't lessened in the slightest.
For Kokushibo—who had once been a Demon Slayer himself—to betray the Corps, ambush the leader, and now casually bring it up? Disgusting.
If Ryo were actually from the Ubuyashiki clan, Kokushibo's line would've been the equivalent of saying, "Oh, your grandpa? Yeah, I murdered him."
Absolutely disgusting.
Ryo gently tucked away the pocket watch in his hand, then gripped the hilt of his blade and slowly walked forward.
As he approached, a soft smile appeared on his face.
"These days of holding back... they're finally over."
"Oh? You came here to die then?" Kokushibo frowned slightly. "Or… is this some kind of revenge for the Ubuyashiki clan?"
Ryo said nothing at first. Then, slowly, he pushed his blade back into its sheath.
Yup, you read that right.
"Better say your last words quick—might not get another chance in your next life."
Kokushibo blinked.
"…You drew your sword?"
He stared at the partially unsheathed blade.
When? When did this man even move?
Kokushibo's six eyes began darting wildly in confusion.
Behind him, the five Hashira watched in stunned silence as Kokushibo's head slowly slid off his neck.
In a single moment—he was dead.
Decapitated cleanly. Killed instantly.
High above, Hantengu let out a screech and turned tail, fleeing toward the palace.
"LORD MUZAN KIBUTSUJI! SAVE MEEE!!"
Kyojuro's eyes widened in shock and fury. "What?"
"Muzan is inside the palace!"
The Hashira didn't hesitate—they stormed straight into the palace without another word.
Ryo calmly re-sheathed his blade and tucked his hands into his sleeves, a cheerful grin on his face.
"Muzan Kibutsuji, huh…"
He glanced once at Giyu Tomioka—who had now gained the upper hand against Daki—then turned and strolled leisurely into the palace himself.
— — —
Inside the Imperial Palace
Gyomei Himejima, the first to arrive, froze.
In front of him stood a silver-haired, golden-eyed woman in white robes, a single horn on her forehead.
Kyojuro and Tengen ran in right behind him—only to stop as well, eyes widening at the sight of a nearly dead Hantengu sprawled out on the floor.
The demon let out a desperate, terrified wail:
"LORD MUZAN, DON'T KILL MEEEE!!!"
---
Meanwhile, at Mount Fuji
Still asleep, Muzan Kibutsuji's brow twitched.
"…Did one of my demons just scream my name in front of humans?"
"DAMN IT! That idiot's going to blow my cover!"
He immediately thought of that terrifying silver-haired man—the one who might now come hunting for him.
"Nope. Not happening. You want to expose me? Then you can DIE!"
---
Back in the palace, Hantengu's eyes bulged in terror.
Muzan's curse had already begun to activate.
But before it could even finish—a foot stomped down hard on his head, crushing it like a melon.
Brains splattered. Blood exploded. The floor was instantly soaked in gore.
Obanai and Sanemi, who had just arrived, froze in place—chilled to the bone.
They looked at the cold, expressionless woman with white hair and black horns.
Their voices trembled.
"…Is this Muzan Kibutsuji? Someone who'd do that to their own underling without hesitation…"
"So… cold."
The woman said nothing. She simply scanned the room with eyes like ice.
The Hashira, though terrified, had no doubt.
This was Muzan.
Why was Muzan a woman now? No idea. But there was no time for questions.
They had to fight.
To the death.
.
.
.
(A/N: Nothing is wrong)