"Tamayo, are you willing?"
Muzan's voice was not loud, but it seemed to carry an irresistible magic. Tamayo's beautiful face shifted through a dozen emotions in a single second. For years, the ultimate goal of all her research had been to turn demons back into humans. Now, that very opportunity was being dangled before her like a divine miracle. But if that miracle came from Muzan Kibutsuji, it could only be a poisoned gift. The memory of his past temptations was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. History was repeating itself.
"This is an illusion," Obanai hissed, his mismatched eyes darting around the impossible castle. "We have to break his technique and get out of here, or we're all going to die."
"Damn it," Giyu muttered, his hand tight on his sword. "We've always wanted to kill him, but not like this. Not now."
As three of the Demon Slayer Corps' elite Hashira, their combat experience was immense. Yet, standing before Muzan, they felt an unimaginable dread. The man just stood there, perfectly still, yet the aura flowing from him felt like the end of the world.
"We have to leave, and we have to take them with us," Sanemi snarled, his patience finally snapping.
In an instant, the Wind Hashira transformed into a streak of light, launching himself directly at the high platform. He had heard the stories of the Demon King's power, of how his Twelve Kizuki alone could overwhelm the entire Demon Slayer Corps. But hearing was one thing; seeing was another. He would use his own Nichirin Blade to test just how terrifying this man truly was.
"KILL!"
With an enraged roar, Sanemi's blade unleashed a torrent of light. "Wind Breathing, First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!"
Endless waves of razor-sharp wind surged forward, crashing towards Muzan in a terrifying cyclone of air. A fierce and terrifying killing intent poured from the Wind Hashira. His hatred for demons was absolute, a burning fire that wished to tear every last one of them to shreds. The technique he used was one of his most powerful, an ultimate expression of his rage.
"No!" Tamayo cried out from behind Muzan, her voice filled with panic.
She had once served Muzan and knew him well. He was a coward, a despicable creature who feared death above all else. For such a person to dare to appear so openly, to bring his enemies directly into his fortress... what did it mean?
It meant that everything was under his control. Every possibility was within his grasp. He wasn't negotiating with her; he was merely playing the part. And these Demon Slayers, in their rage, had dared to provoke a monster who held all the cards.
The air fell into an extreme, deathly silence.
Sanemi's tornado of blades reached Muzan, and then, with a sound like shattering glass, it simply stopped. The Wind Hashira's body froze in mid-air. His incredibly sharp Nichirin Blade, forged from the most precious of metals, shattered into a thousand tiny fragments.
The next moment, Sanemi's body, as if its strings had been cut, crashed heavily to the ground. Blood poured from dozens of deep wounds that had appeared all over his body in an instant.
"No... When did he even move?" Giyu whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"This is terrifying," Obanai added, his voice strained. "There was no trace of an attack. Is this Muzan Kibutsuji's true power?"
They rushed to Sanemi's side. The attack had been too fast, too absolute. Sanemi had unleashed his strongest move, and not only had it failed to even touch Muzan, but it had also resulted in his own devastating defeat. If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they would never have believed it was possible.
"Don't touch him," Urokodaki warned, stepping forward. His gaze on Sanemi's broken form was filled with a grim understanding. "Muzan's technique... it didn't just cut his body. It destroyed him from the inside. His connection to his Breathing Style... it's been severed." His voice was low and somber. "All this time, our goal has been to slay all demons, to eradicate Muzan Kibutsuji. But now, he stands right in front of us... and we can't even get close to him."
The unique, sweet scent of Sanemi's Marechi blood filled the air, a scent that could intoxicate lesser demons. But here, it had no effect. Tamayo and Yushiro stared at the scene, completely terrified. The powerful Wind Hashira, one of the nine pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps, had been defeated as easily as a child. If he was nothing to Muzan, what were they?
"Tamayo," Muzan's voice cut through the shocked silence, a hint of impatience in his tone. "My patience... is limited." He gestured to the fallen Sanemi, to the horrified Hashira, and to the whimpering Yushiro. "Right now, your life, Yushiro's life, and the lives of these men are all in your hands."
His tone shifted, becoming heavier, the scale of his words expanding to an unbearable degree.
"In fact, it's not just them. Now, the entire Demon Slayer Corps, the Ubuyashiki family, all of Eastern Japan... their survival is also in your hands."
His voice was not loud, and his tone was perfectly calm, yet the words crashed down on Tamayo like thunder. It wasn't a threat; it was a statement of fact, which made it the most terrifying threat in the world.
Tamayo knew she could not refuse. She dared not refuse. At that moment, any thought of defiance, any hope of playing some small trick, was completely erased.
She could no longer afford to gamble.