When his dark red tentacle attack was parried, Muzan immediately mutated his own arm.
Rip!
With the sound of tearing flesh, he shredded the sleeve of his kimono. Pink claws, resembling raw meat, sprouted like jagged teeth everywhere along the limb before he swung it.
!!!!!
As Muzan swung his arm, tentacles surged forward at a terrifying velocity.
They were far swifter than the swarm of dark red tentacles he had unleashed earlier.
Expanding my use of the Transparent World to its absolute limit, I batted away Muzan's strikes at a speed even greater than before.
Hoooooo.
Moon Breathing
Tenth Form: Moonlight Opening
Ten times.
That was the number of times I had to swing my sword just to block a single attack from Muzan.
I had only parried his strike, yet the resulting shockwave caused the house we stood in to crumble into powder and collapse.
Furthermore, the wounds inflicted by our blades clashing regenerated in an instant.
His regeneration speed outstripped the speed of being cut; it was so seamless that not a single drop of blood even had time to spill.
It was at a level where one could believe the blade had simply passed through him despite clearly having cut and parried him.
It felt as if the very process required to reach a result had been erased.
Even Upper Rank Zero wasn't this ridiculous.
I must correct my previous impression that Upper Rank Zero's regenerative power was a form of 'regression' beyond mere healing.
True to his title as the King of Demons, his regenerative ability was in a different league compared to all others.
Through this brief skirmish, I could confirm more clearly that Muzan had never studied martial arts.
He didn't swing his arms with any 'technique'; he simply swung them. It was a primal style closer to a beast than a human, much like ordinary demons.
The problem was that his swings were simply incredibly strong and incredibly fast.
The speed and power were so overwhelming that even if I could predict the path, he effectively forced the hit. The sheer force was enough to disintegrate buildings from the mere aftereffects of blocking.
And what of the range? It extended endlessly, making it impossible to gauge where exactly I should strike to properly neutralize him.
He was different from Upper Rank Zero, who, despite being grueling to block, still allowed openings to aim for the neck or counter-attack.
Every single parry was exhausting, leaving no room to focus on anything else.
Thus, there was no need for him to use complex techniques; why bother when a simple swing means certain death for the opponent?
In short, it wasn't that he hadn't learned martial arts—he simply felt no necessity for them.
Conversely, it meant he was so naturally strong from birth that the thought of honing a craft never occurred to him during his five hundred years of existence.
What is the essence of martial arts? Is it not the pursuit of minimizing damage to oneself while maximizing the damage dealt to the enemy?
To Muzan, whose every swing is a lethal blow, martial arts must seem like nothing more than a cumbersome ornament.
What bothered me more were the excessive small thorns, both on those dark red tentacles earlier and now.
They weren't large enough to inflict fatal puncture wounds—just large enough to shred skin upon contact.
It was strange. Would a man with the power to reshape terrain with a standard swing need such minor thorns?
A single direct hit would shatter a person into pieces anyway.
As of now, I could predict two possibilities.
First, it was purely to inflict pain. Muzan could just be a sadistic madman who enjoys the suffering of others.
If not that, it was to ensure a wound was made—meaning there was some wretched gimmick triggered the moment his attack grazes you, even slightly.
Whether it was mental or physical, I decided that allowing even a single graze would be unwise.
Sssssssssh—!!!!
I channeled all my strength into the hilt of my Nichirin Blade, turning the purple blade into a Crimson Blade.
Hoooooo.
Maintaining my breathing without pause, I kept the effects of Moon Breathing, Tenth Form: Moonlight Opening active to bolster my power.
"I cannot comprehend this. Had you simply accepted my blood, you would have gained eternal life and escaped death. Why have you chosen such a fruitless path?"
"There is no profit. I only move to crush those who dare try to rule over me."
The red glow of the Crimson Blade left afterimages as it carved gashes into Muzan's extended arms.
"Gah!"
Muzan groaned in agony as the Crimson Blade bit into him.
Accompanied by the scent of burning flesh, the regeneration of his wounds began to sluggishly falter.
"A Nichirin Blade turned Crimson must sting."
Still, the wounds stubbornly knitted themselves back together.
Injuries that should have been impossible for any other demon to heal were slowly being repaired.
Is there a way to kill him?
Could I even kill this man if I took his head with a Nichirin Blade?
An emotion I hadn't felt even when fighting Upper Rank Zero began to fill me.
Doubt in myself. Uncertainty of victory.
Yes.
It was similar to the feeling I had when standing before Yoriichi.
As Muzan swung the tentacles on both arms, multiple maws sprouted from them, inhaling a massive volume of air.
It was a predator's inhalation that devoured everything. The inhalation itself exerted physical force, broadening the attack's range and grinding away everything in its path.
You've got to be kidding me!
Moon Breathing****
Seventh Form: Kyoka Suigetsu
Judging the attack as unblockable, I opted to evade.
The speed at which the tentacles extended was monstrous. His recovery shrugged off any damage I managed to deal, his physical stats meant a single hit would be fatal, and there were small thorns and wide-range suction patterns coupled with shockwave-like crowd control.
What a dirty way to play the game.
Didn't your parents teach you that designing patterns like this gets you cursed at, Muzan?
Ah, you probably don't have parents.
Still, thank goodness he's different from Yoriichi. He's no Yoriichi!
Unlike Yoriichi's attacks, which couldn't even be fathomed through the Transparent World, I can at least react to Muzan's.
I worship you! G.O.A.T. Yoriichi!
My afterimage was ruthlessly shredded by the predator's inhalation.
Sensing no impact, Muzan wore an expression of deep displeasure.
"You weren't consumed. Skulking about like that, you are no different from a common fly."
"Don't use such strong words. It makes you look weak."
It was then.
For some reason, as if reacting to my final remark, I felt something within him snap.
"Is that so...?"
His voice suddenly dropped an octave as he halted his assault.
"I look... weak...?"
He whispered quietly, covering his face with his right hand.
Usually, when things go like this, a change occurs.
Oh, hell. I'm starting to get uneasy. Don't tell me there's a third phase?
"No, no, no, no. I am a creature as close to perfection as can be."
His pupils slit vertically, and veins bulged on his face and hands.
I think I just stepped on a landmine.
Finally, the seven hearts within Muzan's body began to throb violently, and then....
Splurt—!!!!!
What remained of his kimono was completely shredded as nine tentacles tipped with white bone-hooks were unleashed from the tubes on his back.
Are you serious! More tentacles!
I have zero interest in watching a grown man do a tentacle play!
The tentacles surged at a speed incomparable to before; furthermore, their number had jumped from two to eleven.
I accelerated my breathing further.
Hoooooo.
Don't let the Crimson Blade fade.
Moon Breathing
Tenth Form: Moonlight Opening
I established my sword's domain, deploying Uzui's Score and the Transparent World to their absolute limits.
Keeping my feet moving, I read every flow, countering all eleven tentacle strikes.
Craaaaash—!!!!
As the tentacles and blade collided and both Muzan and I stomped through the terrain, every building was smashed and reduced to ruins.
It was fortunate that the meeting place I'd arranged with the Stone Hashira was a deserted village.
If people had been living here, this would have gone down in the history books.
In the midst of that endless exchange.
Sensing something about to erupt from his thighs, I swung my blade and severed six of them, but I failed to block two more. Those two grazed my thigh and waist.
They were faster than the tentacles attached to his arms and back.
Their identity was eight additional tentacles sprouted from his thighs.
"It is over."
Muzan declared triumphantly, certain of his victory.
I let a strike through...!
"Gah...!"
In my total combined 37 years of life, I had never felt such excruciating pain.
Blood sprayed from my mouth, and as my grip began to fail, the Crimson Blade started to revert to its original state.
I... can't... breathe...!
Supporting my staggering body with my Nichirin Blade, I checked myself with the Transparent World. The areas hit by Muzan were swelling, and my cells were slowly disintegrating.
Is this a lethal poison?!
"I mix my own blood into my attacks. Not the amount meant to create demons, but a massive quantity that acts as a deadly toxin to destroy cells and bring death. This marks the end of your persistent life, Tsugikuni Michikatsu."
Muzan's nineteen tentacles surged toward me simultaneously.
Tch. I should have said my goodbyes before coming out.
Hoooooo.
I used the Transparent World and my breathing to halt the spread of the poison.
Sssssssssh—!!
Squeezing the hilt once more, I re-manifested the Crimson Blade.
Moon Breathing****
Tenth Form: Moonlight Opening
Redeploying my domain, I parried and severed every single tentacle strike.
Thwack!
"Ugh!"
Because the poison had already spread, I had to sacrifice my left shoulder and thigh to take the hits.
In exchange, the poison began spreading from those areas as well.
If I didn't have the Mark, the Transparent World, and my Breathing, I would have been dead long ago.
The moment Muzan's tentacles opened their maws to release the inhalation and shockwave.
Moon Breathing
Fourth Form: Total Lunar Eclipse, New Moon
I spun my Nichirin Blade in a full circle, carving out large chunks of his flesh.
His regeneration was absurd, but healing wounds from a Crimson Blade took time.
The fleeting moment Muzan faltered in pain was my chance!
Moon Breathing
Ninth Form: Spear of Moon Slaying
The Nichirin Blade extended at an incredible velocity.
My target:
One of the hearts I had identified through the Transparent World.
Destruction was not my goal.
To Muzan, a single heart was merely a replaceable part, something he could regenerate.
I pierced Muzan's heart and yanked it out of him.
"Aaaaagh...!"
Muzan's onslaught briefly stiffened.
Having a heart pierced by a Crimson Blade and ripped out entirely seemed to be agonizing even for him.
"You! What are you doing with my heart...!"
This was my first time holding a heart.
The organ in my hand was still beating, even though it had been ripped from its owner.
A thick stench of blood filled the air, and hot, sticky fluid drenched my hand.
From here on, it's a gamble. Then again, it's always been a gamble.
Muzan said he injected a massive amount of poisonous blood that doesn't turn people into demons.
That means there's also poisonous blood that does turn people into demons, doesn't it?
I'll fight poison with poison!
Crunch!
!!!!!!
I bit into Muzan's beating heart.
With every chew, a nauseating, metallic taste and scent flooded my senses, and thick slime coated my mouth.
The sensation of the smooth heart throbbing against my teeth was nothing short of horrific.
"Are... you... insane...?"
Muzan stared at me in horror, as if looking at a monster. He clearly hadn't expected someone to feast on his heart.
"I'm dead anyway if I leave this alone!"
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