In the central hall of the Infinity Castle, there was no trace of light—only a darkness so thick it seemed alive. Cold moisture seeped down the stone walls, and the air was heavy with the faint, metallic scent of blood.
Kibutsuji Muzan floated in the center of the vast chamber, his black robes flowing like spilled ink, melting into the shadows around him. His crimson eyes swept slowly across the figures kneeling below, and with each glance, the air seemed to tighten, pressing down on every creature present.
The Upper Moons and the remaining Lower Moons were divided on either side.
Upper Moon One, Kokushibo, stood with his long blade in hand, face emotionless, an aura of killing intent radiating from him like a blade drawn from its sheath.
Upper Moon Two, Douma, idly flicked open his folding fan, his false smile masking eyes devoid of any warmth.
Upper Moon Three, Akaza, clenched his fists tightly, his muscles tense as though ready to leap into combat at any moment.
Upper Moon Four, Hantengu, and Upper Moon Five, Gyokko, crouched near the shadows—one trembling uncontrollably, the other glaring with cold malice.
The Lower Moons prostrated themselves fully, pressing their foreheads to the floor. None dared to even breathe too loudly.
"Upper Moon Six is dead."
Muzan's voice was calm, without rise or fall, but it struck like ice shards piercing through their chests. The darkness around him thickened as black mist swirled and rolled, suffocating the room.
"The first thing I heard yesterday," he said, his tone rising slightly, "was that my Upper Moon was slain by Demon Slayer swordsmen."
His crimson eyes flared, burning like blood-soaked embers as he glared down at the demons beneath him. "Tell me—why?"
The entire hall went silent. Not a single demon dared to speak.
"Kokushibo."
At the call, Upper Moon One slowly raised his head, his voice steady and cold. "Daki and Gyutaro lacked the strength to stand among the Upper Moons. Their defeat was inevitable."
"Lacked strength?"
Muzan let out a low, icy laugh. The black mist around him suddenly surged outward, slamming into a nearby pillar. With a deafening crack, the stone shattered instantly.
"I gave them a hundred years to grow. I gave them power enough to crush Hashira with ease—and you tell me they lacked strength?!"
Douma quickly snapped his fan shut and bowed deeply, smiling as he spoke. "Please, Muzan-sama, calm your anger. Daki-chan was… impulsive. Had she been more patient, perhaps waited for a better moment to strike, she wouldn't have fallen so easily—"
"Patient?"
Muzan's voice sliced through his words like a knife. His crimson gaze locked on Douma, burning through him.
"I did not raise you to wait! I raised you to exterminate every last insect of the Demon Slayer Corps! To hunt! To kill!
The death of the Upper Moon Six is not hers alone—it is a disgrace upon all of you!
This is the first time in a century that an Upper Moon has died by a Slayer's blade. You have disappointed me."
His eyes swept to the cowering Lower Moons. The temperature in the chamber dropped further. "And you—Lower Moons."
Their bodies shook violently. Lower Moon One forced himself to look up, voice trembling. "M-Muzan-sama, we—we've been trying to hunt the Demon Slayers. It's just that the Hashira are too strong—"
"Too strong?"
Muzan's tone twisted into mockery.
"Have I not given you enough blood? Have you not lived long enough to become stronger?
For a hundred years, the Lower Moons have changed one after another—yet how many Hashira have you killed? Tell me, what purpose do you still serve?"
Before his words even faded, a black claw lashed out from the darkness, slicing through the air.
With a wet crack, it pierced through Lower Moon One's chest.
Blood sprayed across the floor as half his body exploded in an instant, torn apart by the sheer force. The remains hit the ground with a sickening splatter. He hadn't even managed to scream before collapsing, twitching twice—and then falling still.
The others froze in place, shaking uncontrollably, their faces pressed to the cold floor, too terrified even to cry.
"Now," Muzan said softly, his voice eerily calm again, "tell me—do any of you still deserve to exist?"
"Y-Yes! We do!"
The Lower Moons cried out in unison, their voices trembling with fear.
"Please, Muzan-sama! Give us another chance! We swear we'll kill a Hashira and prove our worth!"
Muzan let out a cold hum, no longer bothering to strike them down. Instead, his crimson eyes shifted toward the Upper Moons.
"The seat of Upper Moon Six cannot remain empty. From today onward, any of you may recommend a demon with potential to fill that position. But remember—if the one you bring turns out to be another useless creature like Daki, you will share their punishment."
Kokushibo bowed slightly. "Understood."
Akaza finally spoke, his voice edged with excitement. "Muzan-sama, if any foolish Hashira dares to cross my path and I kill them, may the demon I recommend be granted priority for promotion?"
"You may."
Muzan's tone was faint, almost indifferent. "As long as you kill those troublesome Hashira, I will give you anything you desire."
Douma let out a laugh, snapping open his fan. "Then I'll have to look around as well. Perhaps I'll find a fun little demon—someone cute like Daki-chan. I'm sure that would bring some amusement to you, Muzan-sama."
Muzan ignored his mocking tone, his voice suddenly turning sharp and heavy. "There's another matter—the Blue Spider Lily."
Every demon's body stiffened instantly. They all knew Muzan had been searching for the Blue Spider Lily for a thousand years, the key to conquering sunlight.
"I've received information," Muzan continued, his crimson eyes flashing with cold light, "that the Blue Spider Lily may lie hidden deep within the northern mountains. From this day forward, while you hunt the Demon Slayers, you will also dedicate half of your efforts to finding it.
Whoever finds it first will receive more of my blood and gain even greater strength."
"And if… we can't find it?"
Hantengu's trembling voice barely escaped his throat.
Muzan's gaze locked on him instantly. The black mist around his body gathered, pulsing with deadly intent.
"Can't find it?"
His voice was low, filled with killing intent. "If you fail to find it, then you need never return."
Before the echo of his words faded, a jet of black energy burst from his body, slicing through the darkness.
The blast struck toward Douma.
Douma's smile faltered, and he hastily raised his fan to block. But the impact grazed his face—half his skull exploded instantly, black blood splattering across the floor as pale bone showed beneath.
"Douma," Muzan said flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. "That smile of yours… irritates me.
When you stand before me, wipe it from your face. If I see it again, next time I'll destroy your entire head."
Douma covered his mangled face, though his mocking grin barely faded. He bowed low. "I understand, Muzan-sama."
Muzan didn't look at him again. His gaze swept across the entire room.
"I'm giving you three months. In three months' time, I want to see a new Upper Moon Six. I want to hear news of a Hashira's death. And I want the location of the Blue Spider Lily.
If you fail…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Every demon in the chamber already knew—the fate awaiting failure was far worse than death.
"Dismissed."
As Muzan's final word fell, black mist enveloped his body, and he vanished into the shadows.
Only then did the demons dare to lift their heads. The Lower Moons scrambled away, crawling and stumbling as they fled, terrified of provoking even the faintest irritation.
The Upper Moons rose more slowly. Kokushibo gripped his long blade tightly, his gaze growing colder. Akaza clenched his fists, turning toward the exit, his intent clear—he would hunt the Hashira.
Douma's false smile returned, his expression unreadable. Hantengu and Gyokko hunched low, retreating carefully into the darkness.
Only the bloodstains and shredded remains on the floor bore witness to the slaughter that had just occurred.
The darkness of the Infinity Castle remained cold and still, yet with Muzan's orders echoing through its halls, a new storm was already gathering—one that would soon sweep toward the Demon Slayer Corps.