The battlefield was now formally taken over by the four who had arrived.
But—
"Moon Breathing · Sixth Form · Everlasting Lonely Moon — Endless"
Kokushibo moved.
It was a speed that surpassed the limits of human dynamic vision.
The bladed winds seemed as though they had always existed within space itself—manifesting all at once.
"Wind Breathing · Ninth Form · Vaitayan Typhoon!!"
Shinazugawa Sanemi roared, veins bulging across his body. In that instant, the green, pinwheel-shaped mark on his face flared brightly.
He became an inverted green hurricane, crashing down from above, trying to tear through Kokushibo's head.
"Thunder Breathing · Seventh Form · Flaming Thunder God!!"
Agatsuma Zenitsu clenched his teeth until they cracked. Golden lightning exploded around him, a lightning-shaped mark appearing at his neck.
Speed.
Absolute speed.
He turned into a gold-and-crimson lightning dragon skimming the ground, striking straight for Kokushibo's ankles.
"Flame Breathing · Fifth Form · Flame Tiger!!"
Rengoku Kyojuro's blade transformed into a roaring beast, charging head-on.
"Water Breathing · Eleventh Form · Dead Calm."
Tomioka Giyu stood at the very front, deep-blue eyes utterly still. His blade wove an invisible barrier, trying to swallow the sky-filling moon blades.
And yet—
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The scene froze.
"Too slow."
Kokushibo's voice was cold enough to freeze the heart.
He looked like a gardener trimming branches—
and the four swordsmen before him were nothing more than weeds that had grown crooked.
Sanemi's hurricane was cut clean in half by two moon blades. He twisted midair with all his might to avoid being bisected, but a bone-deep gash was carved across his chest.
Zenitsu's lightning dragon was knocked away the instant it brushed Kokushibo's sleeve—deflected by a small blade sprouting from the end of the sword hilt. He rolled dozens of meters away.
Rengoku's Flame Tiger was split apart in a single stroke.
Giyu's Dead Calm shattered. His shoulder was pierced clean through, blood soaking half his haori.
"This level?"
Kokushibo stood where he was, the purple snake-patterned kimono not even wrinkled.
"Crude coordination.
Sword techniques without beauty.
Too weak."
He lost patience.
Those six crimson eyes ignored the four Hashira entirely and locked onto the corner—onto Inosuke, kneeling there in despair while clutching Tanjiro.
Kokushibo took a step forward.
Just one step—and the mountain-like pressure made the four gravely wounded fighters gasp for air.
"DON'T YOU DARE GO OVER THERE!!!"
A thunderous roar forcibly halted Kokushibo's advance.
From the rubble—
Rengoku Kyojuro pushed himself upright, using his sword as support.
His cloak was in tatters. Blood streamed from his brow, blinding his left eye.
Yet his right eye burned hotter than the sun itself.
He saw it—the naked killing intent in Kokushibo's eyes.
And he heard it—the faint, broken cry coming from Inosuke in the corner.
"Ugh…"
That single sound pierced Rengoku's heart like a blade, shredding it apart.
A flood of memories surged before his eyes.
On the Mugen Train, that boy had used his own body to block Akaza's fist to protect his wounded big brother.
In the Entertainment District, that same boy had faced an Upper Rank alone, walking forward through darkness.
At the Swordsmith Village, once again that boy had fought Upper Rank Five by himself, his fate unknown.
And yet, at the Hashira Meeting—
That boy had stood in the courtyard, misunderstood by everyone.
For the first time, loneliness had appeared in those eyes that were always so full of life.
The look of a child abandoned by his family.
"Why…"
Rengoku's grip trembled violently, fingernails digging deep into his palm.
"Why am I always one step too late?!
Why… am I always chasing behind this boy?!"
He was supposed to be the big brother.
He was supposed to be the Flame Hashira.
So why—every single time—was that boy the one shielding them all from the storm?
Why did that boy chase a perfect ending where everyone lived, while they repaid him with doubt, suspicion, and neglect?
"What kind of joke is this?!"
"WHY?!"
Rengoku's hands shook violently, fingernails splitting, blood flowing.
"Why am I always late?!
Why do I always let that child carry everything alone?!"
Regret.
Self-blame.
And a rage that threatened to burn his very soul to ashes.
"Rengoku Kyojuro! What are you doing?!
How many more times will you disappoint him?!
How much more pain will you let him suffer?!
If you let him die here today…
what right do you have to face Mother?!"
BOOM!!!
His heart thundered beyond its limits.
His body temperature shattered the human threshold.
On his left cheek, a deep crimson flame-like mark spread wildly like a living thing, instantly covering half his face.
Mark — Unleashed!
"If I hadn't let you all leave back then…
If I'd been just a little more resolute…
None of this would have happened!!
You wouldn't have had to suffer like this!!!"
"Flame Breathing · Secret Art · Ninth Form · Rengoku — Absolute Void!!"
BOOOOM!!!
This flame was nearly white—
an ultimate heat beyond measure.
"TAKE ONE MORE STEP AND TRY ME!!!"
Rengoku turned into a blazing fire dragon, crossing dozens of meters in an instant, smashing head-on into Kokushibo!
His blade locked violently with Kyōkoku Kamushi, sparks scorching his own eyebrows.
His eyes—demonic, blazing red—glared straight into Upper Rank One.
"You'll have to step over my corpse first…!!!"
In the corner.
The chaos outside felt like it was separated by thick glass.
Inosuke knelt in a pool of blood, holding the unconscious Tanjiro in his arms.
Nearby lay Kaigaku, his chest collapsed, barely breathing—air going out, but not in.
"Cough… cough…"
Tanjiro's body was growing cold.
The blade had pierced his abdomen and damaged his organs—even he couldn't hold on much longer.
Kaigaku's heart seemed to have stopped entirely, only faint nerve twitches remaining.
"What do I do… what do I do…"
Inosuke's mind went into the most frantic overdrive of his life.
He glanced at Rengoku and the others desperately holding Kokushibo back.
Since Zenitsu had returned…
since the Demon Slayer Corps had arrived…
"Mom should be safe now… right?"
A weight lifted from his chest.
And immediately, a far greater despair crushed down.
"But they're going to die!!"
Inosuke looked at his best friend in his arms—and his senior brother on the ground.
They couldn't be saved.
Human medicine couldn't save them.
"There's only one way left."
His hand trembled as he reached into his clothes and took out the final injector.
His gaze flickered between Tanjiro and Kaigaku.
Only one syringe.
Give it to Tanjiro—Kaigaku dies.
Give it to Kaigaku—Tanjiro dies.
No matter who he chose, he would live the rest of his life drowning in regret.
"No."
Inosuke's eyes changed—into something almost unhinged with resolve.
"I want them all."
SHNK!
He raised the syringe and plunged it straight into his own heart.
"AAAAAAAH!!"
The purple liquid surged in—this was the second injection.
Demonification.
Using the drug, he forcibly catalyzed the demon blood within his body, pushing its density and activity to unprecedented levels.
He was going to turn himself—
into the source.
"I'm sorry!!!
I'M SORRY!!!"
Inosuke sobbed uncontrollably as he sliced open his own wrist with his nails.
Scalding black-red blood burst forth.
He pried open Tanjiro's mouth and pressed his wrist to it.
"Tanjiro… drink it…
please… drink it…"
Then Kaigaku.
"You idiot senior brother… don't die…
drink it… drink it!!"
"As long as you live…
there has to be a way, right?!"
Inosuke cried like a child, tears mixing with blood as they fell onto their faces.
"Forgive me… please forgive me…
This is the only way…
Even if you become demons…
I just want you to live!!!"
As if responding to his cries—
Tanjiro and Kaigaku's fingers twitched faintly.
They didn't resist.
The blood slid down their throats.
SZZZZT!!!
A horrifying transformation began.
Their bodies convulsed violently.
Broken bones cracked and rejoined.
Gaping wounds sprouted flesh, rapidly sealing shut.
Their skin turned pale. Their nails sharpened.
Demonic markings spread across their foreheads and cheeks.
They were—
becoming demons.
Watching this, Inosuke's eyes turned completely red.
He had personally turned his closest companions into man-eating monsters.
This sin—
he would bear it.
"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
Inosuke threw his head back and let out a heart-rending scream.
He spun around, refusing to look at them any longer.
"KOKUSHIBO!!!"
Roaring, Inosuke charged toward the figure locked in battle with Rengoku.
At that very instant—
Just as Inosuke burst forward,
just as Rengoku's locked blade was about to be snapped—
BOOOOOOM!!!!
From directly above the Great Hall of the Paradise Cult—its roof already torn away—
An overwhelming killing aura descended from the heavens!
"Who?!"
Kokushibo snapped his head up.
Even the enraged Rengoku and Inosuke froze, stunned by that presence.
From the swirling dust and falling debris, a figure plummeted like a meteor.
Pink hair whipped wildly in the wind.
The tattoos across his body writhed under the moonlight.
Golden eyes burned with rage fierce enough to scorch the sky.
Upper Rank Three — Akaza.
He slammed into the center of the battlefield.
The ground split apart. Shockwaves blasted everyone away—forcing even Kokushibo to step back.
Akaza slowly straightened.
With a single sweep of his golden eyes, he took in the carnage.
He saw—
The blood-soaked Tanjiro, undergoing demonification.
Kaigaku in the rubble, also transforming.
Inosuke, clearly beyond his limits, still gripping his fans and trying to stand.
The child who called him Third Uncle.
The child who gave him money to build a dojo.
Something shattered in Akaza's mind.
A lock broke open.
Memories flooded back—painfully clear.
"Keizo…
Koyuki…
and that night… under the fireworks…"
He remembered everything.
He had once lost everything.
And now—
this place that had finally made him feel warmth again—
was it going to be destroyed too?!
"Again…"
Akaza's voice was low, yet the air trembled.
"Again… you take away what matters to me…"
He lifted his head, staring straight at Kokushibo.
"KOKUSHIBO!!!"
A shriek tore through the heavens—
the declaration of war from an enraged Upper Rank Three.
Akaza assumed that familiar stance.
"Technique Development · Destructive Death · Compass Needle!"
The snowflake formation spread instantly, covering the entire hall.
"COME ON!!!"
Akaza pointed straight at Kokushibo, his face twisted like an Asura.
"POSITION SWAP BLOOD BATTLE!!!
RIGHT HERE!!!
RIGHT NOW!!!
JUST YOU AND ME!!!**"
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