"No... No way!"
Gyokko, in his grotesque fishman form, had his gaping mouth wide open in shock. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.
Kokushibo—Lord Kokushibo—had actually been punched into a tree.
Mist Breathing, First Form: Low Clouds,Distant Haze.
A surge of power focused into a single thrust.
Even Tokito Muichiro was momentarily distracted by the commotion caused by Yohan, but he seized the opportunity without hesitation. His blade shot straight toward Gyokko.
Slash—then fall.
A thin line of blood traced across Gyokko's neck. He stumbled back a step. If not for his fully transformed state—with scales harder than diamonds—his head would have rolled.
"What a pity, monster," Tokito muttered, disappointed in himself for not landing the finishing blow.
He blamed his momentary lapse. If only he'd concentrated a bit more...
He inhaled slowly. Tokito wasn't as emotionless as he appeared—he had worried for his comrades earlier and had nearly rushed to assist. But now that his heart had stilled, he felt something shift.
"You brat! You've completely pissed me off!"
Blood Demon Art: Octopus Vase Hell.
Gyokko erupted in fury. His tentacles writhed violently, his only thought now to kill this child and turn him into one of his grotesque "artworks."
Tokito said nothing. He simply gripped his blade.
Attack. Attack. And attack again.
….
Elsewhere, Kokushibo's body ached from the crushing impact. Leaves scattered around him. His own senses screamed the truth—he'd been blasted into the trees.
Not since the death of his twin brother, Yoriichi, had he ever endured such disgrace. To be struck down—body and blade both—by another.
"I'm going to kill you." His voice was now a demonic growl, full of pure malice.
If earlier he had considered turning this strange man into a demon—forcing blood into him to make him one of Muzan's servants—that thought had died. Now, Kokushibo wanted only to erase this man, and with him the memory of this humiliation.
"Hey now, you hit me twice earlier. I just returned the favor once, and you're already upset?" Yohan said casually.
He stared at the furious Kokushibo and couldn't help but laugh. Not just at the present moment—but at how absurd Kokushibo looked, a creature that had sacrificed everything for strength, now a half-man, half-monster joke.
"Tell me something—have you seen yourself lately?"
He remembered: In the final battle of the original timeline, Kokushibo hadn't seen his own monstrous face until he was finally decapitated in the Infinity Castle. Now, Yohan figured it was only fair to show him early.
Moon Breathing, Tenth Form:Drilling Slashes,Moon Through Bamboo Leaves.
The shattered demonic blade had reformed entirely. Twin circular moon wheels of spinning energy rushed toward Yohan, intending to shred everything in their path.
An endless barrage of crescent moon blades surged to engulf him, crushing and devouring.
Fssshh!
With a flap of his wings, Yohan launched himself into the air. In the spot where he'd stood, only a massive crater remained.
"Here, let me show you something nice!"
A flash of gold. He rocketed forward again—this time, his target was Kokushibo's head.
Moon Breathing, Fourteenth Form: Catastrophe, Tenman Crescent Moon.
A tide of massive, roaring crescent blades swept across the battlefield, intending to level everything.
Kokushibo had been prepared this time. Though astonished at Yohan's ability to fly, his priority was still destruction. Slipping through the barrage of blades with finesse, he dodged expertly—each step perfectly timed.
"Catch this!" Yohan's fist was locked on Kokushibo's neck. He aimed to snap it clean.
"No!" Kokushibo couldn't believe it. Even with such a flood of moon blades, Yohan had still reached him. His demonic blade raised reflexively in defense.
Could it block this?
BAM!
Same outcome. Kokushibo's blade shattered once more, and this time, his vision flipped—his gaze turned to the ground.
His neck—was it broken?
"No... I can't die."
For the first time in centuries, panic rose inside him. Kokushibo momentarily forgot the blade that had struck him wasn't a Nichirin sword. It didn't matter. Something primal screamed inside him.
From the Warring States Era, to his transformation into a demon... his betrayal of the Demon Slayer Corps... his slaughter of Breath Users... It all flashed before his eyes.
He had sacrificed everything—everything—to surpass his brother. He had become this twisted thing in pursuit of strength.
He couldn't fall here.
Unwillingness surged through every cell of his body. In that moment, Kokushibo transcended even the limits of a demon.
His neck was no longer his weakness.
With explosive regeneration, his head reformed—twisted and monstrous. Black markings covered his flesh, his jaws extended into grotesque fangs, and a nest of spiked tendrils grew from his back.
This was no longer a demon.
This... was a devil.
"You're seriously hideous."
Yohan stared at the transformed Kokushibo. Compared to this, the earlier version of him looked almost normal. How could someone live with such a form?
But thinking ahead—facing Muzan Kibutsuji—he realized he'd likely see even more revolting forms. Might as well start getting used to it now.
"Well then. Let's go another round!"
He raised his fist again, preparing another strike. This time, he wanted Kokushibo to see it coming.
Moon Breathing, Sixteenth Form: MoonBow,Half Moon.
The tendrils on Kokushibo's back lashed out in all directions. A storm of blades surged toward Yohan.
"Hmph."
This time, his armor pulsed with warning. Not deeply—but enough to suggest this attack was stronger.
"Fine, let me show you what real defense looks like."
No dodging. No stepping aside.
He'd take it head-on.
Berserker's Roar!
A phantom of a bloodthirsty warrior erupted behind Yohan, a crimson aura cloaking his golden armor.
BOOM!
Every single attack struck him head-on.
"Die... Die! I want you dead!"
Kokushibo, now utterly consumed by his demonic rage, had lost his usual cold demeanor. His entire presence radiated bloodlust as he stared murderously at Yohan.
The shockwave shook the battlefield. All around them—Gyokko, Hantengu, Tokito Muichiro, and Himejima Gyomei—stopped mid-fight to look in that direction.
"Phew... That was pretty close!"
As the storm of blades cleared, what emerged once again was Yohan—his golden armor intact, though this time faint white cracks had begun to appear.
But the light still gleamed brightly.
Shocked. Stunned.
All three Upper Moons shared the same thought, their minds reeling:
Impossible.
"Hahaha! Yohan, you're truly astonishing!"
Unlike the stunned fear of the Upper Moons, Himejima Gyomei beamed with joy—he could finally see the dawn of victory.
They had held their breath in dread—both he and Tokito Muichiro had worried that if Yohan fell to Kokushibo's assault, their entire side would collapse in an instant.
But now, against a strike they themselves believed unbeatable...
Yohan stood untouched.
This was light.
This was victory.
This—was hope.
And the tide of battle had completely turned in their favor.
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