The mont Muzan spoke, murderous intent filled the Infinity Castle.
The air turned heavy.
Enmu remained kneeling on the wooden platform, his head lowered, while Muzan Kibutsuji stared down at him with eyes that held neither warmth nor rcy.
"Why are the Lower Moons so weak?"
His voice was quiet, but every word seed to scrape across bone.
"Becoming one of the Twelve Kizuki is only the beginning. The beginning of becoming stronger. The beginning of proving useful to ."
The pressure in the air deepened.
"The Upper Moons have not been replaced for over a century. But the Lower Moons?"
Muzan's gaze sharpened.
"This ti, five of them were killed by a single Demon Slayer."
His fingers curled slightly.
Beneath that flawless composure, in the deepest part of his crimson eyes, a faint trace of fear flickered and vanished.
"Now I believe the Twelve Kizuki only need the Upper Moons."
Muzan looked at Enmu as though he were nothing more than a broken tool.
"Do you have anything to say before you die?"
There was no negotiation in that voice.
Only execution.
A final rcy, perhaps, if one could call giving the condemned a chance to whimper a rcy.
But Enmu was not normal.
Faced with imminent death, he did not tremble. He did not beg. He did not curse his weakness.
Instead, a sick flush spread across his pale face.
His hands lifted slightly, his eyes shining with twisted admiration and satisfaction.
"It's true," Enmu murmured, almost breathless. "This feels like a dream…"
His lips curved.
"To have my life ended by your own hands… I am truly happy."
Muzan paused.
That perverse devotion finally stirred a sliver of interest in him.
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.
The flesh extending from his body twisted and shot forward. Its sharpened tips pierced into Enmu's neck, sinking deep.
Blood surged through the tendrils.
Enmu's body jerked violently.
The next instant, the tendrils withdrew, and he collapsed onto the platform, convulsing. Veins bulged across his face and neck. His limbs spasd as if his entire body were being torn apart from the inside.
Muzan watched him suffer with detached interest.
"I have taken a liking to you."
Enmu twitched on the ground, struggling to breathe.
"I will give you a little more of my blood. Of course, you may fail to endure it and die here."
Muzan's smile remained thin.
"But if you adapt, you will beco stronger."
He paused, then lifted a finger and tapped near his ear.
"Go and kill the Demon Slayer who wears hanafuda earrings. If you succeed, I will give you even more blood."
His order fell.
A biwa sounded from sowhere behind him.
Clang.
Space shifted.
Enmu vanished from the Infinity Castle and was thrown onto a deserted street beneath the night sky.
He lay there on the cold ground, his body still twitching from the blood forced into him. mories and information flowed through that blood: Tanjiro Kamado, the hanafuda earrings, the strange sword, the power that had slaughtered the Lower Moons.
Enmu laughed despite the pain.
No—because of the pain.
"To receive your recognition… and to be ordered to kill that Demon Slayer…"
His face twisted in ecstasy.
"This truly is like a dream."
Back in the Infinity Castle, Muzan did not spare another thought for him.
Once again, he summoned the Upper Moons.
He understood perfectly well that Enmu alone would never be enough to kill that Demon Slayer.
That boy—no, that thing—was suspected to be possessed by the ghost of Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Sending Enmu was rely setting out bait.
If he wanted even the slightest chance of killing that monster, he would need an Upper Moon.
And if even an Upper Moon died?
Muzan's eyes turned cold.
When the string of an instrunt snapped, one only needed to replace it.
As long as he, the one playing the instrunt, still existed, that was enough.
…
Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters.
Butterfly Mansion.
After their battle with Sanemi Shinazugawa, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke returned to the estate and continued training in the courtyard.
Their days had beco simple.
Breathe.
Train.
Collapse.
Get dragged back up.
Repeat.
During one of their breaks, Tanjiro sat on the porch with a rice ball in hand. Three young girls from the mansion sat beside him, their eyes bright with curiosity.
One of them leaned forward and asked in a clear voice, "Tanjiro-san, are you already doing Total Concentration: Constant?"
The other two stared at him just as intently.
Tanjiro glanced down at Asuramaru at his waist, then smiled gently.
"Yes. Thanks to Asuramaru, I can maintain Total Concentration Breathing at all tis now."
"That's amazing…"
The three girls imdiately turned their attention to the sword.
Their curiosity was almost tangible.
One of them suddenly picked up a small gourd and placed it in front of Tanjiro.
"Then, Tanjiro-san, would you like to try blowing into a gourd?"
Tanjiro took another bite of his rice ball and asked with a smile, "Do I need to make it whistle?"
The girl shook her head.
"No. You need to blow into it until it bursts."
Tanjiro paused.
"Burst it?"
He picked up the gourd and tapped it lightly.
Thunk, thunk.
It was much sturdier than it looked.
"That's right," one of the girls said. "The gourds Kanao-san can burst now are even bigger."
The three of them went off together and, after so effort, dragged out a massive gourd.
It was nearly as tall as Tanjiro.
"Do you want to try?"
Tanjiro stared at the gourd.
Then he thought about Kanao, who looked so quiet and slender, sohow bursting sothing like this with her breath alone.
A faint chill ran down his back.
Just as he was considering whether to try, Asuramaru's voice rang in his mind.
"That gourd is no challenge for you. You've already mastered Total Concentration: Constant. What you need now is not lung training, but combat technique."
Tanjiro listened carefully.
"You need to beco proficient with Hinokami Kagura," Asuramaru continued. "After that, learn other Breathing Styles and find a way to integrate everything together. That will be more useful than wasting ti on gourds."
Tanjiro's expression grew serious.
"Thank you for guiding , Asuramaru. I'll work harder."
With that, he stood, walked over to the enormous gourd, and faced the three girls.
"May I give it a try?"
"Of course!"
The three answered together.
Not far away, Zenitsu and Inosuke had been in the middle of training. Hearing the commotion, both of them stopped and looked over.
Tanjiro placed both hands on the gourd, took a deep breath, and adjusted his breathing.
His chest expanded.
His lungs moved with powerful rhythm.
Then he blew.
Crack.
A sharp sound split the air.
The next instant, the giant gourd burst apart.
Fragnts scattered across the porch and courtyard.
Tanjiro imdiately bowed his head in apology.
"I'm sorry! I didn't an to send the pieces flying everywhere!"
The three girls stared with wide eyes.
Zenitsu and Inosuke fell silent.
For once, even Zenitsu forgot to complain.
After a long pause, his face turned pale.
"This is bad…"
His voice trembled.
"It feels like the gap between us has completely opened up!"
Even though he already knew Tanjiro was becoming stronger at a terrifying speed, seeing it happen so plainly still hurt.
Inosuke, however, snorted loudly.
"Hmph! Without that sword helping him, I can do that too!"
He imdiately turned around and threw himself into training with even more ferocity than before.
Zenitsu watched him for a mont, then clenched his teeth.
He wanted to lie down.
He wanted to cry.
He wanted to complain about how life was unfair and training was a cri against humanity.
But in the end, he dragged himself back to his feet.
For the first ti in a while, even Zenitsu suppressed his laziness and focused.
Ti passed like that.
Training. Breathing. Sweat. Exhaustion.
Then morning ca again.
The three of them had only just woken when soone was already standing in their room.
He wore a fla-patterned haori, his posture upright and powerful. His crimson-gold eyes burned with fierce righteousness, and even standing still, he seed to radiate heat.
The Fla Hashira.
Kyojuro Rengoku.
"Young n!" Rengoku declared, voice bright enough to punch through sleep itself. "Co train with ! I will devote myself fully to your growth. Now, follow !"
Tanjiro's nose twitched.
From Rengoku's scent, he felt an overwhelming sense of justice—straightforward, blazing, and without a shred of deceit.
He was unquestionably a good person.
Tanjiro nodded at once.
"Yes!"
Inosuke grabbed his swords imdiately.
"Training? Good! Let's go!"
Zenitsu, however, collapsed back onto the bed and began rolling around in despair.
"Nooo! I don't want to get beaten again! My body... ah... Yate..."
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
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