"Gah..."
"Cough... cough..."
Muzan tumbled across the ground in a wretched heap, gasping for breath, not daring to stop even for a second.
Even when he sensed fragile human presences up ahead, he chose to avoid them entirely.
'That woman... what was she?!'
He clutched his shoulder. The pain from that arrow still blazed through him, far exceeding anything the Mark-bearing swordsman had ever inflicted.
The priestess in red and white, bow drawn, steady hands.
She terrified him.
In all of Muzan's long existence, the only other being to carve this kind of trauma into his memory was Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the original user of Sun Breathing.
But this woman was different. Her arrow didn't merely cut through his flesh. The impact point and the entire area around it simply ceased to exist. Evaporated. Gone.
It wasn't like being slashed. It was like being erased.
The spiritual power in that arrow was the perfect counter to everything a Demon was. An evil creature couldn't resist it. Forget blocking with a physical body. Even a graze could be fatal.
"That woman could kill an Upper Moon without breaking a sweat."
"If I hadn't split my body apart and fled, I wouldn't have survived."
Power beyond the Demon Slayer Corps.
The realization settled into his chest like a cold stone. Breathing itself felt like a chore.
He was genuinely afraid.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni was supposed to be a once-in-ten-thousand-years anomaly. How could this world be crawling with monsters of comparable caliber?
A yokai who shredded his body with nothing more than the pressure of a sword swing.
A man with an oversized blade who annihilated an entire army of Demons in one strike.
A priestess who could send him to the afterlife with a single arrow.
"What kind of world is this?!"
He ground his teeth, fury and terror warring inside him.
Threats everywhere he turned. How was he supposed to operate like this?
Muzan had never experienced anything like it.
Maybe he should find somewhere dark, curl up, and outlive them all? Wait for the decades to grind them to dust, just like he'd done with Yoriichi? Disappear until every last one of them died of old age.
"But if I do that, the war goes on without me! And that man still holds my Command Spells!"
No. Running from this one was impossible.
As long as he existed as a Servant, he was bound to Naraku and bound to the Dragon Ball conflict.
And besides, his ambition hadn't dimmed. He still dreamed of conquering sunlight here. Giving up wasn't an option.
"Hm?"
"Did you enjoy yourself? Caster."
Naraku stood waiting, as though he'd known the exact moment Muzan would come crawling back. A serene smile on his lips.
"!"
Muzan's pupils contracted. This man had been watching him the entire time.
He'd spent centuries manipulating others. He was the one who pulled strings, the one who controlled. The idea of being on the receiving end made his skin crawl.
"I have a fair understanding of your abilities now."
"Your personal combat strength isn't worth mentioning, but that blood of yours has genuine utility when applied properly. Don't sell yourself short."
Naraku delivered the assessment with absolute indifference, not sparing a single glance at Muzan's simmering rage.
'Here we go again.'
Byakuya stood off to the side, already able to foresee the man's fate.
He would be exploited down to the very last drop of usefulness and squeezed dry of his final molecule of blood before Naraku discarded him.
THUD!
"NARAKU! YOU BASTARD!!"
Before Muzan could respond, Naraku hurled a figure forward. A boy in white clothes, bound in tentacles, thrashing and cursing with unbridled hatred.
"Consider this a token of our Master-Servant friendship."
"He's yours now. A bodyguard. Use your blood."
Naraku didn't acknowledge the boy's fury in the slightest.
Hakudoshi. The incarnation who had conspired with the Infant against him. Already obsolete.
Better to hand him off to Muzan and see what kind of yokai-demon hybrid could be produced.
"Then I accept with gratitude."
Muzan's gaze fell on the bound boy. Slowly, reluctantly, he began to learn something he'd never needed before: tolerance.
He walked over to Hakudoshi. Crouched down. And drove his thumb into the boy's forehead.
"Koga! Hand over your Sacred Jewel shards!!"
"Tch. I don't have time for some outsider, but putting down anything of Naraku's is never a waste of my time."
Moryomaru loomed overhead, glaring down at Koga with open contempt. The response he got was pure disdain.
"Oh, this big guy looks tough. But he doesn't feel like a Servant. A regular yokai? That armor looks serious."
Cu Chulainn studied the massive figure with the gleam of a child who'd just found a new toy.
But Moryomaru wasn't in the mood for banter. He extended his arm, morphing it into a razor-edged blade aimed directly at Koga.
"Hey, hey, hey."
"Ignoring me to go after the Master? That's a little rude, don't you think?"
Cu Chulainn's spear flashed outward. A single precise strike severed the arm at the joint. He spun the lance and planted himself between Moryomaru and Koga.
"What?"
"Who is this?"
Moryomaru stared at the blue-clad Lancer. When had Koga acquired a spearman?
'Forget him. Take the Sacred Jewel shards from Koga's legs. That's what matters for our fight against Naraku. Hakudoshi's been recaptured. We're running out of time!'
Hidden deep within Moryomaru's body, the Infant clutched the Fuyoheki and issued urgent orders.
"Get out of my way!"
The severed stump swelled grotesquely, then erupted into a dozen grasping tendrils that shot forward.
"AAAH!!"
"Run for it!"
Koga's two underlings bolted without hesitation. They'd been through this kind of chaos often enough to know the drill.
"Hmph! You weren't chosen for this war. Stay out of it."
"GORAISHI!!"
Koga swung the Wolf Demon Tribe's sacred relic, and a storm of lightning exploded from his claws.
BOOM!!
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!!
The vine-like tentacles shattered under the assault. Koga didn't spare them a second glance.
"Yo!"
Before Moryomaru could follow up, Cu Chulainn was already airborne, right in his face, thrusting his crimson spear with lethal precision.
But...
CLANG!
The spear tip ground against dark green armor, throwing sparks. It bounced off without leaving a scratch.
"Well now. That's some defense."
Cu Chulainn whistled softly. He hadn't expected that.
"This is the Armor of Meioju! As if the likes of you could pierce it!"
Moryomaru laughed coldly. What an overconfident fool. He lashed out with another wave of tentacles, aiming to ensnare this unknown intruder.
"Big words."
But every tendril that closed around him was sliced clean through. Cu Chulainn spun his lance in midair with a fluidity that bordered on art.
'That speed. That spearwork.'
Moryomaru barely had time to register the threat before Koga vaulted over Cu Chulainn's shoulder, closing the distance in a single bound, fist aimed squarely at his head.
"Your armor doesn't cover your face."
"Idiot!!"
"GORAISHI!!"
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]