Akaza had found the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters.
Exhilaration coursed through him, his bloodlust and battle fervor intertwining, twisting his expression into something feral, his aura growing ever more terrifying. Leading his two Lower Moons and over a hundred demons, he charged toward the headquarters with a cacophony of shrieks and howls.
The demons descended the mountain like a horde of frenzied specters.
Akaza's army reached the headquarters' gates. It was still early in the night, and the gates, as if caught off guard, stood ajar. A small squad of swordsmen, seemingly on patrol, spotted the oncoming swarm and reacted with theatrical panic.
"Disaster! A huge group of demons is attacking!" one cried.
"This is headquarters! How can there be so many demons?" another shouted.
"Has the headquarters been exposed? How could this happen?" a third wailed.
"There are too many! What do we do? Help!" another pleaded.
"Stop standing there! Close the gates! Prepare to defend!" a fifth barked.
Akaza sneered at the flustered swordsmen. Has the Demon Slayer Corps grown so complacent, never expecting an attack on their headquarters?
"Hmph! You deserve this! Today marks the end of your precious Corps!" he growled.
"Kill!" Akaza roared, surging forward with overwhelming momentum. In an instant, he reached the gates. Before the two massive iron doors—each weighing a ton—could be shut, Akaza unleashed a single, devastating kick.
The terrifying strength of Upper Rank Three was on full display. One door was blasted open, and the other buckled and collapsed with a thunderous crash. The headquarters lay wide open, the situation seemingly dire.
"Gods, the demons are inside!" a swordsman screamed.
"This one's too strong! We can't handle him!" another yelled.
"The headquarters is breached! Save us!" a third cried.
"Run! Run for it!" another shouted.
The gate's defenders scattered in a chaotic frenzy, fleeing in all directions.
Akaza didn't bother pursuing these small fries. His focus was elsewhere. His hundred-plus demons caught up, swarming behind him.
With a bloodthirsty roar, Akaza led them through the breached gates, charging down the headquarters' main road toward its heart. Every demon knew that the core of any stronghold was its most vital point—destroy it, and the entire organization would crumble. They tore forward, unopposed, as if invading an empty realm.
Along the way, they encountered several figures dressed as Hidden operatives. These supposed Corps members, upon seeing the demon horde, shrieked in terror, scattering like frightened animals.
Akaza waved a commanding hand, barking orders to his demons. "Kill them all! Slaughter everyone in these buildings, everyone fleeing on the roads—wipe out every soul in this headquarters! Go!"
His subordinates, usually timid and weak, were emboldened by how easily the headquarters had been breached. Their confidence surged, their cruelty awakened. Thinking themselves invincible, they prepared to scatter, ready to chase, kill, and destroy as Akaza commanded.
But would they succeed?
Of course not.
The demons were now clustered on the main road—the perfect moment to strike. If they dispersed, things would get messy.
Hidden somewhere nearby, Horitake sprang into action.
As Akaza issued his command, a faint unease prickled at his senses. His keen demonic instincts caught a whiff of something acrid, tinged with the scent of burning. He froze, his mind racing to identify it. That sharp smell… gunpowder?
Realization hit, but it was too late.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The explosives buried beneath the main road detonated in a cataclysmic eruption. The entire road was engulfed in a maelstrom of fire and force, the blasts roaring with earth-shaking fury. Shockwaves and flames tore through the air, a relentless storm of destruction.
The explosion's scale was staggering. Not only the main road but the side paths, surrounding greenery, and nearby buildings were obliterated, reduced to ash and debris by the relentless blasts.
The massive detonation swept through the hundred-plus demons, who wailed and flailed as they were thrown into chaos. The sheer power was overwhelming. Demons near the epicenter were torn apart, their bodies shredded into fragments that scattered in all directions. Those farther out were battered and burned, mangled by the shockwaves and seared by flames, their forms barely holding together.
Only Akaza and his two Lower Moons, Ruiyo and Kamayue, endured the blast relatively unscathed, their superior regenerative abilities and resilience allowing them to weather the explosion. In the original story, even Muzan Kibutsuji had been staggered by a similar quantity of explosives, but that was a concentrated blast. This time, the explosives were spread out beneath the road, diluting their impact—enough for Akaza and the Lower Moons to hold their ground.
The other demons weren't so fortunate, left in a wretched state.
As the explosions subsided and the flames dwindled, thick smoke rose into the air. Akaza, still largely intact, lifted his head, scanning the surroundings to assess the situation. What he saw was a grim tragedy—a catastrophe for his demon army.
His hundred subordinates were in disarray. A few had been reduced to scattered fragments, their chances of regeneration questionable. Dozens more were blown into pieces, their body parts strewn across the ground, though some might recover if reassembled quickly. The rest fared little better—some writhed in agony, their mangled bodies struggling to heal; others crawled, twisted and broken, searching for severed limbs; still others, charred and bloodied, screamed as they fought to regenerate.
Lightly injured demons were a rarity. Those nearly unscathed? Only Akaza, Ruiyo, and Kamayue.
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