Tanjiro's Kasugai Crow, Matsuemon Tennoji, was the first to soar into the sky.
Beating his wings through the smoke and dust hanging over the ruins, he drew on every ounce of strength he had and delivered the loudest, clearest proclamation of his life.
"Caw! Muzan is dead! Muzan is dead! Kibutsuji Muzan has been slain by Tanjiro!"
His cry rang with excitement and conviction, echoing above the ruins on the outskirts of Yokohama like a morning bell breaking through the darkness.
Then more Kasugai Crows took flight.
They emerged from every corner of the ruins and from every battlefield.
Injured or not, as long as they could still fly, the surviving crows forced themselves into the sky.
Like a black tide, they spread in every direction, repeating the news at the top of their lungs.
"Muzan is dead! Kibutsuji Muzan has been slain by Tanjiro Kamado!"
"Caw! The Demon Slayer Corps has won!"
"The war is over! Caw!"
Their hoarse cries overlapped above the ruins.
The news first reached the guards under Chinatsu.
The armed security personnel were still standing watch with their rifles when they heard the crows shouting overhead.
For a moment, they simply stared. Then they all turned toward Chinatsu.
Captain Nohara looked at her.
"Miss, those crows are saying Muzan is dead. That's the monster you told us about, right?"
Chinatsu stood where she was, looking up at the black silhouettes circling and crying out across the sky.
Strands of her disheveled hair clung to her forehead, and a mixture of disbelief and relief entered her eyes.
Slowly, she closed them and drew a long breath.
"Lord Mitsuyo, you can finally rest in peace."
Her voice was soft, carrying the release of something she had kept buried for far too long.
"It's over."
Chinatsu opened her eyes again and looked at the guards around her, many of whom were still unsure what to make of everything.
Before coming to Yokohama, she had warned them that the mission would be dangerous.
Most of them had known little about the true threat posed by demons, but between their loyalty to Chinatsu herself and the generous compensation they had been promised, the majority had chosen to follow her anyway.
They had expected a terrifying battle.
Yet somehow, victory had arrived almost before they could fully understand what they were fighting.
Seeing all of them looking toward her expectantly, Chinatsu understood exactly what they were thinking.
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, and her usual calm composure returned.
"Don't worry. Every bit of the compensation I promised will be paid. You may not fully understand what happened here, but you helped humanity eliminate a terrible monster."
She paused, then continued more firmly.
"But the fighting has only just ended, and there is still a great deal to do. From this point on, your mission is rescue work. Prioritize the wounded, help clear the debris, and contact headquarters. Tell them to prepare medical supplies and disaster-relief materials immediately."
"Yes!"
The guards answered in unison.
They lowered their weapons and quickly began preparing to assist the Demon Slayer Corps with the rescue effort.
...
Meanwhile, news of the victory spread outward like ripples across water and soon reached the Demon Slayers who were still searching through the ruins for pieces of Muzan.
A young Demon Slayer named Heihachi Shinmasa was using his Nichirin blade to move aside chunks of rubble.
Thick bandages were wrapped around his left arm, and blood was still seeping through them.
The dull pain beneath the cloth constantly needled at him, but he gritted his teeth and kept searching.
Then he heard a Kasugai Crow overhead.
"Muzan is dead! Kibutsuji Muzan has been slain!"
Heihachi stopped.
His blade was still lodged beneath a piece of rubble, his body still leaning forward, but his eyes had lifted toward the sky.
He stared at the circling crows as though he had not understood the words.
For a long moment, he simply stood there.
Then his knees suddenly gave way.
He collapsed to the ground, his hand slipping from the hilt of his Nichirin blade and falling limply to his side.
The shoulders that had been tense for so long finally sagged.
"It's over…"
His voice was hoarse and trembling, almost as though he were asking for confirmation.
"Muzan is dead. It's really over?"
No one answered him.
But more Kasugai Crows flew overhead, repeating the same message again and again.
Heihachi lowered his head and stared at the rubble and dust beneath him.
His eyes began to burn.
Then the tears came without warning, tracing paths down his bloodstained cheeks.
Behind him, more Demon Slayers began hearing the news.
One.
Two.
Five.
Ten.
Those who were still searching the ruins or hunting down Muzan's remnants stopped one after another.
They raised their heads toward the sky and listened to the Kasugai Crows carrying the news of victory.
Muzan was dead!
The Demon King whose existence had cost the Demon Slayer Corps countless lives had finally been destroyed.
The darkness that had hung over them for a thousand years was gone.
The mission the Demon Slayer Corps had pursued for generations was finally complete.
"LONG LIVE THE DEMON SLAYER CORPS!!"
No one knew who shouted it first.
The voice was not particularly loud, but it was filled with enough passion to ignite everyone around it.
"LONG LIVE THE DEMON SLAYER CORPS!!!"
More voices immediately joined in.
"Muzan is dead! The demons are gone! We won!!!"
"THE DEMON SLAYER CORPS WILL LIVE ON FOREVER!!!"
Cheers erupted from every corner of the ruins, bursting from the throats of battered and blood-soaked survivors.
Those voices gathered together into a roaring tide.
The Demon Slayers raised their Nichirin blades toward the sky and the steadily rising sun, giving the loudest cries of their lives.
Yet even amid the celebration, many were crying.
They mourned because with the passing of this night, many comrades who had laughed, trained, eaten, and fought beside them would never open their eyes again.
After centuries of sacrifice and countless lives lost, the Demon Slayer Corps had finally reached the moment of victory.
High above the ruins stood Gyomei Himejima.
His Nichirin spiked flail and great axe rested beside him, while his blind eyes were gently closed.
When a Kasugai Crow passed overhead crying, "Muzan is dead!" his enormous body trembled faintly.
Then, slowly and with great difficulty, Gyomei lowered himself to his knees.
He pressed his palms together and bowed his head. His lips moved, but at first, no sound emerged.
His shoulders trembled ever so slightly.
Gyomei could feel it clearly.
He did not have much life left.
The Demon Slayer Mark was fading, and the bright red glow of his weapons was cooling.
The powers that had carried him through the battle—powers bought by burning away his own life—were gradually leaving his body.
His breathing grew heavier.
The pain and exhaustion he had suppressed until now came flooding back like a rising tide.
But Gyomei felt neither fear nor regret.
Instead, a peaceful smile appeared on his face.
"Namu Amida Butsu… Namu Amida Butsu…"
He quietly recited the prayer.
"The Demon Slayer Corps… will live on forever."
Tears slipped from the corners of his sightless eyes, glimmering faintly in the morning light.
Farther away, the other Hashira also began to hear the news.