Horitake sat squarely before Yōya, his voice resolute as he quashed the man's notion of self-sacrifice.
"Lord Ubuyashiki," he began, "Muzan Kibutsuji is no ordinary foe. Those things hidden beneath the floor? They'd barely scratch him. If you sacrifice yourself, it'll be for nothing—a wasted life! And, to be blunt, in Muzan's eyes, you might not even matter as much as I do. My lightning is a bane to demons, and he's marked me as a thorn in his side. If both of us stood before him, he'd come for me first, not you. Your plan to act as bait to buy us time? It might not even work. Muzan might not take the bait. He'd likely ignore you and hunt me down instead."
Horitake's tone softened but remained firm. "So, Lord Ubuyashiki, don't throw Stuart. You're being reckless. Even if you sacrificed yourself, it wouldn't achieve much. Harsh as it sounds, that's the truth. Instead of throwing your life away to Muzan, stay alive and lead the Demon Slayer Corps to grow stronger. You've just glimpsed a chance at health, a hope to watch your children grow and grow old with Lady Amane. Why obsess over sacrificing yourself to save everyone?"
Horitake's words hit like a blade, cutting through Yōya's stubborn resolve. The man froze, realization dawning that, in Muzan's eyes, he might indeed be insignificant. His sacrifice would be futile. A shadow of depression crossed Yōya's face, a rare crack in his stoic demeanor, though he couldn't deny the logic in Horitake's words.
"If I'm useless," Yōya said, his voice heavy with frustration, "then what will you do, Horitake? If Muzan does come, what then? He won't spare you."
Horitake laughed, a bright, confident sound. "I've got a plan, Lord Ubuyashiki. Don't worry—I'm not so easy to kill. Worst case, I've got another life to spare!"
"What?" The room stirred with confusion. Another life?
"No need to fret!" Horitake declared, his voice brimming with assurance. "I won't die. I promise you all that."
Yōya and his family exchanged uncertain glances. Could Horitake's confidence stem from some hidden ace up his sleeve? Miri, standing nearby, tugged anxiously at his sleeve. Her eyes, wide with worry, betrayed her unease.
Horitake smiled and patted her head gently. "Relax, it'll be fine. You know me—I'm too cautious to take reckless risks without a solid plan."
Miri nodded, her nerves easing slightly. She knew he wasn't one to gamble blindly.
Turning back to Yōya, Horitake said, "Trust me, Lord Ubuyashiki. Leave the final trouble to me. Now, let's figure out what's next."
Yōya chose to trust him. "Alright, it's in your hands. We need to act fast—we've only got tonight and tomorrow day."
With that, Horitake and Yōya dove into planning. The strategy was straightforward, boiling down to two key tasks.
First, the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters had to evacuate immediately. Fortunately, the Corps' predecessors had foreseen such a need, preparing hidden fallback locations in remote mountains, complete with facilities ready for immediate use. Relocating there would be seamless.
Second, they needed to summon nearby Pillars to the headquarters for the impending battle. The headquarters was currently understaffed, with only two Pillars present: Horitake himself and Shinobu Kocho, who was working at the Butterfly Mansion, unaware of the looming threat. To face the coming war, they had to call in every Pillar within reach—those who could arrive by tomorrow day. Some Pillars were too far away, stationed in distant regions or tied up with missions, so only the closest could be summoned.
Once the plan was set, Yōya issued orders, and the headquarters sprang into action despite the late hour. Kasugai Crows took flight, wings beating furiously as they carried urgent summons to nearby Pillars. Every member of the Corps—Hidden operatives and swordsmen alike—bustled about, packing, organizing, and preparing for the move. Though ordinary members didn't understand why the headquarters was relocating so suddenly, they followed orders loyally, each fulfilling their duties with precision.
The night passed in a flurry of organized chaos.
Meanwhile, in the latter half of the night, something stirred in a secluded corner of Japan, a place rarely touched by human presence. It was here that Akaza gathered his subordinates every seven days.
Tonight was no exception. Akaza stood before a crowd of over a hundred demons, their expressions a mix of fear, awe, and respect. Though numerous, they were ordinary demons, none showing potential worth nurturing. Akaza sighed inwardly. Cannon fodder and tools, nothing more.
Surveying his gathered minions, Akaza's voice cut through the silence, his grin sharp and menacing. "Seven days have passed. How have you fared with your tasks?"
Silence.
"The Blue Spider Lily—found it?"
Silence.
"The Demon Slayer Corps headquarters—located it?"
Silence.
Akaza's face darkened, his aura turning murderous as he roared, "Then what use are you?!"
His terrifying presence crashed over the demons like a wave. Ordinary as they were, they buckled under his oppressive aura, some collapsing in terror. Akaza sighed and reined in his killing intent. He wasn't one for mindless slaughter, and he'd grown accustomed to their failures on these tasks.
"Fine," he growled. "The third task—how many Demon Slayer swordsmen have you killed?"
Surely this wouldn't be a complete failure. Yet, among the hundred demons, only a handful raised their hands, claiming kills over the past week.
Akaza stared, incredulous. Out of a hundred, only a few had anything to show? He was on the verge of breaking.
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