"Master!"
Seeing her husband cough up blood sent a sharp pang of heartache through Amane. The marriage between the Ubuyashiki and Kanzaki families was a tradition stretching back centuries, a mutual choice made by both houses. Many knew of the Ubuyashiki family's vast influence and wealth, but they also knew of the curse that guaranteed its men a short life.
Amane had known this when she chose to marry Kagaya, a decision she had never once regretted. For years, as the Nine Hashira finally assembled, she had allowed herself to believe the prophecy was coming true—that their generation would be the one to finally see the end of Muzan Kibutsuji.
But now, with every move Tsukihiko made, that hope was being torn apart. His schemes were twisting their world into something unrecognizable. The great and ancient Ubuyashiki family, and the Demon Slayer Corps they led, were beginning to crumble under the weight of his relentless plotting. The destruction of the Final Selection on Mount Fujikasane was not just an attack on the Corps; it was the murder of their children, the next generation of slayers.
Amane had always buried that pain deep in her heart, clinging to the belief that Muzan would ultimately be defeated. But seeing Kagaya so weak and frail now, the grief she had suppressed for so long felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside.
"It's alright, don't worry," Kagaya whispered, wiping the blood from his lips. The weakness on his face was undeniable, but his voice was steady. "We must have faith. Have faith in our Nine Hashira, and have faith in Kanzaki Jubei, who is about to make his move."
He looked at her, his gaze firm. "As long as they are fighting for us, Muzan's conspiracy can't succeed. The final victory will be ours."
Hearing his words, Amane felt a renewed strength flow through her. She clasped his hand tightly, her expression shifting from sorrow back to serene resolve. A warm, determined light returned to her purple eyes.
...
Meanwhile, on the other three battlefields, the remaining six Hashira had managed to break through the encirclement by the government's official enforcement teams. However, none of them had escaped unharmed. Their opponents had come prepared, attacking with a barrage of both cold steel and modern firepower. Even for warriors of their caliber, dodging masterfully wielded swords while under a hail of gunfire and cannon blasts was nearly impossible.
Fortunately, it seemed their attackers' goal had been to capture them alive rather than kill them outright. That hesitation had given them the opening they needed to escape. But now, severely injured, the thought of rescuing their three captured comrades seemed like an impossible dream.
"Retreat isn't an option for a Demon Slayer," one of them said, gritting their teeth against the pain.
"Exactly," another agreed, their voice strained but firm. "Our mission has just begun. We have to see this through to the end."
"Anyone who stands in our way is just another obstacle to be cut down."
With their resolve hardened, the six injured Hashira ignored their wounds and charged toward their respective targets.
...
At the same time, back in the Cabinet building in Tokyo, the tables had turned completely. With the sudden appearance of the masters from Japan's most renowned sword fighting schools, the situation was instantly reversed. Tsukihiko and his subordinate, who had held absolute control just moments before, now found themselves surrounded.
"I never thought… the information Ubuyashiki gave us was true," Prime Minister Kametaro muttered, a wave of relief washing over him. He stared intently at the two demons. "Could Muzan Kibutsuji really have lived for nearly a thousand years?"
Compared to the handsome, modern-looking Tsukihiko, the demon named Kokushibo, with his six eyes and traditional samurai attire, radiated a much more demonic aura. Yet neither of them looked like the mindless monsters that hunted in the night. There were no fangs or claws, no monstrous roars; there was only a chilling calm and composure, as if they were completely disconnected from the chaos around them.
...
"There is a lot you don't know," Tsukihiko suddenly said, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "But none of it will matter to you for much longer. To have all the masters of Japan's sword schools gathered in one place… this is excellent."
He smiled, a look of genuine pleasure on his face. "Otherwise, I would have had to waste time hunting each of you down individually. Now, we can skip that tedious process."
His words struck the room like a physical blow. The Prime Minister and the assembled grandmasters stared at him, their faces masks of fury.
Arrogant. He was simply too arrogant.
Even if this man was the legendary Demon King, he was still only one man. How could he possibly stand against the combined might of Japan's greatest martial artists? Any one of the men in this room was a legend in their own right. Where did Muzan Kibutsuji get the confidence to be so dismissive? It was clear he didn't see them as a threat at all.
...
"In that case… attack!"
Countless thoughts raced through Prime Minister Kametaro's mind, but he suppressed them all. This demon was cunning and powerful, and more terrifyingly, he might truly be ancient. Ordinary methods wouldn't be enough to kill him. But there was no time to prepare another plan; they had to act now.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
The moment the Prime Minister gave the order, the sword masters exploded into action. The air in the Cabinet room was instantly filled with the shriek of steel as a storm of blades descended. Terrifying sword energy and blinding light engulfed everything.
Yagyu Shinkage-ryu.
Shinto Munen-ryu.
Hokushin Itto-ryu.
Niten Ichi-ryu.
The most powerful and deadly killing techniques from every major sword school in Japan, honed over centuries, were unleashed at once. The mastery contained in these strikes was of a different nature than that of the Hashira's Breathing Styles, rooted in ancient principles of 'momentum' and 'the Way' that carried their own terrifying depth.
In an instant, the endless storm of blade light and sword shadows completely enveloped both Tsukihiko and Kokushibo.
However, to the utter astonishment of everyone present, the six-eyed demon swordsman made no move to defend himself. He didn't even reach for the hilt of the sword at his waist.
Had he already resigned himself to death?
------------------------
For Advance chapters visit : patreon.com/Mythic_Muse