Chapter 144: The Upper Ranks Gather
The Infinity Castle shifted. Wooden platforms ground against each other in the gravity-defying expanse, the architecture rearranging itself in a dizzying display. Akaza landed silently on the tatami mats, his bare feet making no sound.
It had barely been a year since the Upper Ranks were last summoned to this endless labyrinth. The moment his vision adjusted to the dim lighting, a suffocating weight crashed down upon his shoulders. The air itself grew thick, choking him with a murderous intent that felt like a physical hand wrapping around his throat. It was the fury of Demon King Muzan, boiling just beneath the surface, a volcano trembling moments before a catastrophic eruption.
'Has another Upper Rank been killed?'
The thought flashed through Akaza's mind, sharp and immediate.
He remembered the last time the Demon King had radiated such absolute rage. It was the day Akaza had failed. He had failed to slaughter Kanzaki Akira, the swordsman who had dared to block his path, and he had failed to execute the target hidden inside that carriage. The reprimand that followed was not merely verbal. It was an agony etched into his very cells.
"Akaza," Muzan's voice had echoed in his skull, cold and merciless. "You claim to disdain increasing your strength by devouring humans. You prefer to improve yourself through martial training, like a fragile human. Then, you should properly experience the frailty of a human body."
With a mere thought, Muzan had turned Akaza's own biology against him. His demonic cells tore themselves apart from the inside out. He had collapsed, paralyzed by a pain that transcended physical injury. Muzan had stripped away his rapid regeneration, leaving him to heal at the agonizingly slow pace of a mortal, denied even the simplest medical relief. He had lain in a dark, forgotten corner of the Infinity Castle for weeks, a broken mass of flesh.
The punishment had only recently been lifted. Now, less than a month after finally leaving this wretched place, he was pulled back. The face of Kanzaki Akira drifted through his memories, a phantom mocking his pride. Though he had no proof, Akaza's instincts screamed that Muzan's current fury was tied to that exact same swordsman.
Pushing the memory aside, Akaza stepped onto the central platform. He was not the first to arrive.
Kokushibo knelt in absolute silence, his six eyes closed, radiating a quiet, imposing pressure that demanded respect. Across from him, Doma was already in his designated spot, swaying his upper body back and forth like a distracted child, a serene, empty smile plastered across his face. Akaza ignored the blonde demon, taking his place and dropping to one knee, bowing his head in the same direction as Kokushibo.
A few paces away, Hantengu was pressed flat against the floor in a pathetic, trembling prostration. The cowardly demon whimpered, his forehead grinding into the wood, terrified by the crushing aura that saturated the room. All of them faced the shadows above, the source of the surging anger.
Nakime sat quietly in the distance, her pale fingers resting against the strings of her biwa. Her single, massive eye, usually hidden beneath her dark fringe, was partially visible. Carved into the sclera was a new designation, the kanji for 'Five'.
Akaza took in the scene, his mind calculating the absences. 'It seems Upper Rank Six is the one who died.'The conclusion settled in his mind without a shred of pity.'Gyutaro is dead... an expected outcome. Daki was always too weak. She was nothing but a burden to him. If her strength had actually matched his, perhaps they could have survived.'
A shadow detached itself from the higher platforms. Muzan looked down upon his strongest creations, his crimson eyes glowing with a terrifying, cold light.
"Enough," his voice cut through the heavy air, silencing even Hantengu's pathetic whimpers. "The dead are not worth wasting my breath on."
He paced slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing like a death knell. "What I want to say is this. In less than two years, two successive Upper Ranks have died at the hands of the Demon Slayer Corps. And worse, they died under the blade of the exact same person. What on earth are you all doing?!"
"Oh my, I suppose I hold some responsibility in this tragic matter."
Doma's voice chimed in, sickeningly sweet and entirely devoid of actual remorse. He tilted his head, the corners of his mouth curling into his signature cynical smile. "After all, I was the one who turned those poor siblings into demons all those years ago. Now that such a problem has arisen, perhaps I should offer some form of atonement... What should I do? For example, would it be acceptable to offer you my eyes?"
Doma had lived for centuries without a single genuine emotion. He was entirely blind to the atmosphere in the room. He could not sense that Muzan was a powder keg, and his flippant words were the spark.
"What use do I have for your pair of broken eyeballs?!" Muzan roared.
The air cracked. Before Doma could even blink, the cells within his body violently rebelled. His internal organs ruptured simultaneously. A massive spray of dark blood erupted from his mouth, splattering across the tatami mats. For the first time in centuries, the Upper Rank Two experienced the crushing sensation of severe, full-body trauma. He slumped forward, coughing violently.
However, Muzan did not restrict his regeneration this time. The fatal internal injuries knit themselves back together in a matter of seconds. Doma wiped his chin, sensibly snapping his mouth shut. He lacked empathy, but he possessed basic survival instincts. Muzan's violent reaction made it perfectly clear that speaking another word would result in something far worse.
Deep within Akaza's chest, a fleeting spark of dark satisfaction flared at the sight of Doma's humiliation. But the feeling vanished the moment the crushing pressure in the room shifted entirely onto his shoulders. Muzan's crimson gaze locked onto him.
"Akaza. You are feeling pleased that I punished Doma?" The Demon King's voice dropped to a dangerous, quiet hiss. "If you had not failed to kill that swordsman back then, Gyutaro would not have died this time. A single swordsman alone could never have withstood the combined might of Gyutaro and Daki. If we are assigning responsibility, your failure weighs far heavier than Doma's!"
The moment the words left Muzan's lips, immense pressure crushed Akaza's skull. Blood immediately began weeping from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. The metallic taste flooded his tongue. He did not flinch. He maintained his kneeling posture, his head bowed low, watching his own blood drip steadily onto the wooden floor. He offered absolutely no resistance. This momentary pain was nothing. It would heal in seconds. Compared to the agonizing, drawn-out human recovery he had endured weeks prior, this was a mercy.
Muzan looked away from the bleeding martial artist, his disgust evident. "There is still no news of the Blue Spider Lily. Meanwhile, those rats from the Demon Slayer Corps are becoming increasingly active, running rampant. As my Upper Ranks, where exactly does your utility manifest?!"
Muzan paused. He wanted to scream that the inheritor of the Sun Breathing had not been found either. But the words caught in his throat, swallowed back by a phantom terror. Even after hundreds of years, the mere thought of Sun Breathing summoned the image of that man—the swordsman with the hanafuda earrings who had burned the memory of death into his very cells.
"This is the last chance I am giving you," Muzan declared, his voice echoing with absolute finality. "Finding the Blue Spider Lily, or entirely wiping out the Demon Slayer Corps. These are tasks you must complete. Until these objectives are met, I do not wish to hear a single report of an Upper Rank dying in battle. Otherwise, there will be no need for the Twelve Kizuki to exist at all."
With a furious sweep of his arm, Muzan turned away. The sharp twang of Nakime's biwa rang out, and the Demon King vanished from the Infinity Castle.
The moment Muzan's presence disappeared, the suffocating gravity in the room evaporated. The remaining demons subconsciously relaxed their tense muscles. Akaza slowly pushed himself up from his kneeling position, wiping the blood from his chin.
"Oh my, Lord Akaza!" Doma's cheerful voice instantly broke the silence.
The blonde demon skipped over, entirely unbothered by his near-death experience moments prior. He threw a casual arm over Akaza's shoulder, leaning in close. "Listening to Lord Muzan just now, it sounds like you encountered that swordsman before? To be able to escape from your hands, he truly must be strong."
Doma smiled brightly, attempting to force a friendly exchange with his colleague to maintain his self-proclaimed popularity among the Upper Ranks.
Thick veins bulged across Akaza's forehead. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He wanted nothing more than to punch Doma's head clean off his shoulders. But he caught sight of Kokushibo standing silently nearby. Suppressing his boiling rage, Akaza violently swatted Doma's arm away. He turned his back on the blonde demon, glaring up at the woman with the biwa.
"Nakime. Send me back."
Doma watched him disappear, his smile never wavering. 'He didn't hit me this time,'Doma thought cheerfully.'Which means our relationship has advanced even further! That is wonderful. I will try again next time.'In the void between spaces, Akaza's mind was consumed by a single, violent string of curses.'I will slaughter him.'
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