Swoosh!
The next second, a pitch-black swamp materialized right under their feet. Murata froze. Ghostly hands shot out of the mud and clamped down hard around his ankles.
"You... how the hell?" Murata's eyes bulged as he stared at the swamp demon in front of him, then down at the spectral claws gripping his legs. Pure confusion flooded his face.
"Die already," the swamp demon snarled with a twisted grin and swung both arms.
Murata instantly felt a brutal pulling force explode around his ankles. He slammed power into his legs, trying to rip free.
But standing in the middle of a goddamn swamp meant zero leverage. He could only watch helplessly as he sank deeper.
Stay calm. The more dangerous it gets, the calmer you have to be.
This thing's ability is weird as hell, and Lord Ivan is busy dealing with those ghost claws himself. He won't have time to babysit me.
Murata yanked the white cloth off his Nichirin Blade in one sharp motion and slashed straight down.
Pshhhk!
The blade sank deep into the swamp demon's forearm, but it didn't sever the limb. His strength still wasn't enough. A demon's body was way tougher than any human's.
"Ah!" Murata clenched his teeth and wrenched the sword free. By now the swamp had already swallowed his calves completely.
"Caw! Gah! Gah gah!! Danger! Danger!"
Torataro saw shit was going sideways. A flicker of very human panic showed in its black beady eyes. The crow flapped its wings frantically, screeching warnings at Murata not to let the swamp swallow him whole.
Bam!
A loud noise from the side snapped Murata's attention.
He whipped his head around just in time to see Ivan rip off a demon's arm like it was nothing, then stroll out of the swamp's range with steady, unhurried steps.
"I'll count to ten," Ivan said, frowning slightly. "If you can't finish it by then, I'll handle it myself."
To him, the back-and-forth between Murata and the swamp demon looked like a kid's game of house. One move, then the other. Felt like a fucking turn-based video game.
Seeing Ivan getting impatient, Mukago decided to stop playing around. A thumb-sized, blood-red seed sprouted in her palm.
"Blood Demon Art: Parasitic Flora."
Whoosh!
She hurled the seed like a bullet. It slammed dead-center into the swamp demon's forehead with terrifying speed.
"What the hell is this shit?"
Shock flashed across the demon's face. Before it could claw the seed out, the thing detonated. In an instant, countless vein-like roots burst outward, swelling massively. Every root tip sharpened into steel-needle points that stabbed deep into its body. They pulsed and contracted, sucking the demon's blood out as fuel.
"Get the fuck off me!"
The swamp demon roared in fury as its own blood got drained. Veins bulging on its arms, it started ripping wildly at the plant tendrils wrapping around it. But every vine it tore off regrew thicker and meaner within a second. More roots kept sprouting, burrowing deeper.
Finally, the swamp demon let out a unwilling, furious screech and collapsed into a giant ball completely cocooned in writhing vines.
But it wasn't over yet.
A faint green sprout appeared on top of the vine ball. Once it tapped into the steady flow of nutrients from the roots, it shot upward at a visible rate. In seconds it grew several meters tall, its emerald branches heavy with clusters of blood-red fruit.
Under Mukago's control, the fruits instantly turned into countless bombs and rained down on the black swamp.
At the same time, she yanked a thick vine and dragged Murata clear of the mud.
"Thanks… thank you," Murata panted, wiping cold sweat off his forehead. Honestly, this was the first time in his life a demon had saved his ass.
Boom! Boom!!
The moment the fruits hit the swamp they detonated. The explosions packed a serious punch.
"Damn it! That lord won't spare any of you bastards!"
The swamp demon poked its head out for a split second before ducking back under. Good thing it had hidden its real body inside the swamp, otherwise Lower Four might have actually killed it.
In Ivan's view, demons died in five main ways: one, sunlight; two, getting beheaded by a Nichirin Blade; three, wisteria poison; four, Muzan's direct curse. And the fifth, the one he and Mukago had just used, was draining every last drop of the demon's regenerative power.
Once that power ran dry, the demon would collapse and never recover.
"Gah! It's trying to run! Stop it!" Torataro screeched from above. The crow easily tracked the swamp's shifting position.
Right then.
Ivan drew the blade at his waist, gripped the hilt reversed, and took a deep breath. The air around him rushed into his lungs.
He pushed Total Concentration Breathing to the absolute limit. Scalding steam poured from the corner of his mouth.
In the next instant he hurled the Nichirin Blade wrapped in roaring flames and crashing waves.
Two different colored air currents twisted and howled along the blade, letting out a sonic-boom shriek.
Mukago's body shuddered hard the second she saw those flames coiling around the sword. Every cell inside her screamed in pure terror.
That fear shot straight through to Muzan himself.
...
Inside the Infinity Castle, countless buildings stacked and overlapped like someone had crammed endless old Tokyo districts into one twisted space.
Lanterns burned bright everywhere. Wooden Japanese lanterns hung in front of every house, casting warm orange light that gave the deathly silent place a deceptive touch of comfort.
Twang twang!
The sudden sound of a biwa broke the quiet. Instantly the buildings started shifting like a scrambled Rubik's Cube, constantly rearranging.
The structures connected in every direction. Up, down, left, right, it was impossible to tell where anything was.
Even the sharpest hunter who stepped inside would never find the way out.
"Stop!" In the center of the Infinity Castle, a man with sickly pale skin suddenly opened his crimson eyes. He wore a black haori patterned with flowers, his long black hair falling neatly over his shoulders.
Kneeling on a bamboo mat beside him was the biwa player, Nakime. Her hands were grayish-white. She kept her head slightly lowered, bangs covering her eyes.
As Muzan Kibutsuji's close attendant, she usually played the biwa for him with her plectrum. Since no one could see her full face, nobody knew if she was an Upper or Lower Rank.
At Muzan's angry shout, Nakime immediately stopped playing.
"This familiar feeling… it's coming from one of the Lower Ranks. How can something in this world still make my blood feel fear?" The terror buried deep in Muzan's cells dragged up memories of that man.
That light. That sword. That absolutely unmatched slash.
Muzan snapped out of the flashback, breathing heavier than before.
"Go call Lower Four, Mukago. I want to know exactly who he is and why he can use that thing!"
Furious and humiliated, Muzan Kibutsuji forced down his rage. He waved his hand, pulling Nakime right in front of him. His plum-red pupils stared straight at her, voice ice-cold.
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[]~(￣▽￣)~*
Read 12 Advance Chapters—P@t- Captain69