"Die."
"Blood Demon Art: Flying Blood Scythe."
When Lucien Graves treated Daki so lightly, Gyutaro's rage boiled over. He gripped his twin blood scythes with both hands and swung them fiercely. Two razor-thin, poison-laced arcs of blood shot toward Lucien.
Lucien still held Daki's severed head in his left hand, his body crackling with golden lightning. In an instant, he vanished and reappeared behind Gyutaro. His right foot, hardened and glowing red like molten iron, radiated intense heat.
Gyutaro, with his superhuman senses, realized too late what was happening. Desperate, he unleashed his Blood Demon Art again.
"Insignificant!"
He sent his scythes spinning. They formed a swirling defensive shield around him, cutting through the air to meet Lucien's fiery kick.
Bones cracked as the force struck him. Gyutaro's body arched into a grotesque C shape, his blood spraying wildly as he was launched like a cannonball. He broke through the corridor of Kyogoku-ya and crashed out onto the street. The impact carved a gaping hole in the wall, and terrified screams erupted from nearby onlookers.
"Is he a Hashira?" someone yelled.
Gyutaro glared at Lucien, who strode from the wreckage. A murderous fury blazed in his eyes — his scythes were chipped from the blow, and he realized his opponent's attack had blistering heat. If a demon's cells are hit with enough heat, regeneration falters. Even for a powerful demon, that is dangerous.
Not waiting, Gyutaro attacked again.
"Blood Demon Art: Round Slash Revolve."
His blood scythes flew out with a life of their own, carving through the panicked crowd. In that moment, half the street dissolved into chaos. Some humans screamed and fell, lifeless before they could run.
Lucien stood firm. His amethyst eyes narrowed as he summoned more golden lightning. The air around him roared. Debris and broken stones whirled in a fierce gale.
"Instant Kill!"
True to his words, Lucien burst forward like a lightning bolt across eight meters. He appeared behind Gyutaro in the blink of an eye, catching him off guard.
"Pfft…"
Blood spurted from Gyutaro's waist as Lucien struck, splitting him in two. His organs and viscera spilled out, staining the street crimson. Gyutaro only had a moment to gasp before his body was severed, sliced cleanly through.
But that was not the end.
"Blood Demon Art: Dawn Reversal!"
Gyutaro's disembodied will flared one final time. A circular slash of red blood-qi expanded outward in a devastating wave. In its radius of fifty meters, objects, people, and structures were cleaved in half, leaving ruin in its wake.
Lucien hovered above the crater, watching the devastation. Even so close, Gyutaro's speed had been like lightning — but Lucien had dodged and waited for the perfect moment.
"Meteor."
He flared his power. His body crystallized as if he were made of living crystal, and his right foot blazed like a comet trailing rainbow-tinged lightning. He dropped down with the force of a meteor strike.
The ground exploded under his foot. Stones, wood, and debris exploded outward like a mushroom cloud. Buildings along Flower Street collapsed. Limbs and bodies flew. The air filled with the sickening scent of blood, guts, and shattered lives. The scene looked more like a slaughterhouse than a once-luxurious avenue.
When the chaos settled, Lucien planted his foot firmly in the crater. He bent and picked up Gyutaro's twisted head.
His other hand still gripped Daki's. In that moment, holding both severed heads by their hair, he looked almost calm — as though this grotesque tableau were nothing more than another challenge overcome.
"It's… a bit underwhelming," he said quietly. "Even as an Upper Moon, he's weaker than Akaza."
He studied their expressions, one dead and one terrified, and found less satisfaction than he had expected.
"How could you lose?" Daki screamed, tears in her eyes. "If I hadn't given you half my strength … if I weren't protecting you …"
Gyutaro snorted, his voice cold. "But what if I didn't want to die?"
Daki flinched. "It's all your fault!"
If he expected Gyutaro to answer, he was disappointed. The demon remained silent, impatient, detached.
Daki wailed again, voice breaking. "Please, just let us go!"
Lucien frowned beneath his mask. Despite everything, her cry stirred something in him — pity perhaps, or a strange protective instinct.
"I… cannot." He spoke without hesitation, even though her vulnerability moved him.
She curled into sobs, calling him a pervert again. "You… it's all your fault!"
He sighed. Without waste, he drew his second Nichirin Blade. Thunder Breathing flowed through him, turning the blade a deep crimson. With both hands, he skewered the two heads — "like a shish kebab," he said dryly in his mind — and held them between the blades.
The heat surged. His aura flared so strongly that their demon cells could not regenerate. Within a minute, their bodies began to disintegrate. Ash formed, and then even that blew away in the wind.
He sheathed his Nichirin, surveying the wrecked Flower Street. Ruins crumbled around him, and silence replaced screams. He felt the exhaustion of his power — raising the temperature alone had drained him considerably.
He turned, ready to leave — to find somewhere quiet to recover.
But three figures descended from a rooftop, landing silently in front of him.
"Whoosh! Whoosh!"
Mitsuri stood in the center, dressed in her Demon Slayer uniform, her green eyes shining with pain. On one side of her stood Shinobu Kocho, and on the other, Uzui Tengen. Both gripped the hilts of their Nichirin Blades, their faces filled with anger.
Lucien frowned, his gaze fixed on Mitsuri. He recognized her immediately.
"Mitsuri-san."
Tears glistened in her eyes. "Did you kill Sanemi? Kyojuro? Tanjiro?" she asked, voice trembling with dread and hope.
He didn't flinch. "Yes."
Mitsuri closed her eyes, sadness and longing battling on her face.
In a flash, Shinobu whispered, "Insect Breathing: Dance of the Bee Sting, True Flutter."
Simultaneously, Tengen roared, "Sound Breathing: First Form, Roar."
They attacked without warning.
Lucien braced himself. In each hand, he held a Nichirin Blade. He blocked their swift strikes, his feet rooted to the ground. His pupils, glowing amethyst in the lantern light, remained steady and unflinching, devoid of any regret.
______
Happy New Year!
The number of power stones I get is pretty low lately, which is kind of funny in its own way.
If you'd like to read ahead (about 60 to 90 chapters in advance) you can find early access on my Patreon.
Patreon.com/Zphyr_