[In Belobog's square, a large crowd of citizens had gathered. Bronya, pushing through physical discomfort, addressed them all about Belobog's rebirth and the sacrifice of a great Guardian.]
[Amid countless cheers, Bronya was crowned as the new Guardian.]
[After the ceremony, Stelle arrived at Qlipoth Fort. Following brief congratulations, the group informed Bronya that Jarilo-VI would not return to normal anytime soon.]
[Contrary to their expectations of disappointment, Bronya showed little sorrow. She believed that without the Stellaron, the planet already had a future. Moreover, she agreed with Mr. Welt's words—she trusted the will of Belobog's people and believed the planet would flourish once more.]
[They would continue waiting for the Trailblazers' return, even if it took another seven hundred years. The children of Belobog would keep gazing at the stars, holding onto hope.]
[Even if the outcome wasn't perfect, it was enough.]
[As they left Qlipoth Fort, March 7th suddenly asked curiously: "Bronya said she'd wait another seven hundred years for us… So, Dan Heng, how long can the longest-lived humans live?"]
[Dan Heng's tone grew solemn, as if recalling something. He sighed: "...Endlessly. But at that point, they can no longer be called human."]
"Oh? Has this Dan Heng encountered our kind before?" Serie remarked with slight surprise.
Elves possessed near-eternal lifespans… This was precisely why demons sought to exterminate them. With endless time to study magic and accumulate experience, elves became exceedingly difficult to kill.
"Lady Serie… I disagree," Sense pondered before speaking. "The universe Stelle and the others inhabit contains countless worlds—different worlds must have different types of humans."
"Perhaps there exists a world where humans have lifespans similar to elves."
"Hmm, that is indeed possible," Serie mused, narrowing her eyes. "But if such long-lived beings truly exist… the peak combatants of that world would likely surpass Seele and Bronya. After all, Belobogians' lives are still far too brief."
"Masterful skills inevitably turn to dust with time…"
Serie recalled Seele's astonishing prowess—across the entire continent, there was likely no warrior who could match her. The thought that such talent was destined to fade still stirred faint ripples in her otherwise tranquil heart.
Meanwhile, in the Demon Slayer world, Muzan was instantly terrified by Dan Heng's words.
Endless life… wasn't that exactly what they were?
And not being considered human fit them perfectly—despite their human-like appearances, they had long diverged from humanity.
Could it be that Dan Heng knew of their world?
In an instant, Muzan's entire body tensed, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His eyes flooded with blood, turning crimson as if countless red spiders were clawing within—
He had no desire to face Dan Heng, Stelle, or the others… especially not Welt and Himeko.
Muzan resolved that if they ever crossed paths, he would abandon all his Upper Moons—even most of his own body—if it meant securing even a sliver of survival!
[After taking commemorative photos with Hook, Clara, and the others, Stelle finally returned to Goethe Hotel for a proper rest.]
[The next moment, the screen shifted rapidly, focusing on Sampo standing at its center. From a distance, he appeared to be chatting animatedly with someone.]
["—Right, it was such a close call! Luckily, ol' Sampo had a flash of inspiration: Hey! Why do I have to play the leading role, huh? Why not just be the masked jester instead?"]
["Turns out, the Astral Express crew is even more interesting than I thought! You like them? Really? Hahaha… what a masterpiece."]
[The perspective shifted, revealing that Sampo wasn't speaking to anyone—instead, he was earnestly conversing with a broken television.]
["…No no, I'm not leaving yet. What? Epsilon? What's so fun about that hedonistic den? 'The greater the joy that reflects human dignity, the higher its quality'—now that's entertainment!"]
["Alright, see ya. Send my regards to the folks at the tavern, and don't forget to tell them—expect ol' Sampo's next act! Time for my curtain call."]
[With that, Sampo suddenly turned and bowed deeply.]
[For a fleeting moment, his green eyes gleamed with a smile.]
[As if piercing through the screen, seeing every person across all worlds, he slightly narrowed his eyes… that trademark grin was displayed for all viewers.]
["This story is dedicated to you, dear audience—I do hope it brought you some small measure of delight?"]
["—If you say no, well… Sampo's heart might just break."]
Those two casual sentences sent chills down countless spines.
Muzan was the first to react—his entire body trembled at a visible frequency, shaking so violently that the other Upper Moons instinctively felt an inexplicable dread.
"M-Muzan-sama…"
Douma took a step forward, about to offer reassurance, when suddenly Muzan's right arm grotesquely swelled into a monstrous tentacle. With a thunderous crack, it swept across the floor before Douma, leaving behind rising wisps of smoke—and the lower half of Douma's body was instantly shredded.
This was pure venting.
Though the attack wouldn't kill Douma, its brutality made the other Upper Moons break into cold sweat.
Veins bulged across Muzan's face as low growls escaped his throat. His tentacles pounded the ground with deafening force: "He's watching us! He's definitely hiding somewhere I don't know… watching us!"
"He's observing… no, he must have some scheme—"
"…Find him! Find him now! I want him found!"
Muzan's screams were hoarse with desperation.
Having never seen their master so unhinged in centuries, the Upper Moons were stunned. Upper Moon Four, Hantengu, had already shrunk into a shivering ball, while Upper Moon Five, Gyokko, though terrified, mustered the courage to ask:
"My lord, what of the Blue Spider Lily…?"
Before he could finish, a tentacle shattered the pot beneath him, coiling around his neck and slowly lifting him out.
The scarlet in Muzan's eyes seemed to deepen.
"…What did you say?"
The tentacle tightened—faint cracks of bone could be heard.
Gyokko trembled violently, but he knew better than to resist or show disrespect, even if his neck were to be crushed. He could only whimper meekly, begging for mercy.
"A-as you command… my lord."