Chapter 83 83: Fierce Battle with Upper Rank Six

Daki stood beneath the night wind, her pale green eyes fixed on the delicate figure before her.

Her words had been sweet, almost playful, but the hunger beneath them was naked.

Asuramaru merely looked back at her.

His expression did not change.

There was no fear. No panic. No instinctive retreat from the demon bearing the mark of an Upper Rank. If anything, the calm in his ruby-red eyes made Daki feel as if she were the one being observed.

A faint urge to laugh rose in Asuramaru's chest.

A beautiful demon, a graceful body, a voice meant to tempt and toy with prey. To an ordinary person, Daki might have been terrifying. To others, perhaps alluring.

To Asuramaru, she was simply a fish that had bitten the hook.

Daki noticed his lack of fear and smiled wider.

"Oh? Still calm?" Her sashes swayed behind her like living serpents. "You're a Demon Slayer, aren't you? You lured me here on purpose."

She tilted her head, studying him with sharp amusement.

"Then there must be others hiding nearby. With that much confidence, did you bring a Hashira?"

Her smile grew cruel.

"It won't help. I've killed seven Hashira myself. I'm not some ordinary demon. I'm a true Upper Rank."

The words had barely left her mouth when a figure appeared on the eaves to Asuramaru's right.

A wooden box was strapped to his back.

A fox mask covered his face.

Tanjirou stood under the moonlight, looking down at the street below. The wind tugged at his haori, and though he said nothing, the aura spilling from him was heavy enough to make the night seem still.

Daki's eyes lifted.

The moment she saw him, her expression shifted.

At first, what she felt was only pressure. The boy's presence was strong, far stronger than she had expected. But that was not what truly chilled her.

It was his clothing.

The box.

The fox mask.

During the gathering in the Infinity Castle, Muzan had forced fragments of memory into every Upper Rank through his blood. A certain Demon Slayer. A certain sword. A certain figure that had to be killed at all costs.

And now, under the cold moonlight, the person before her overlapped almost perfectly with the image branded into her mind.

Daki's earlier arrogance vanished.

Her eyes narrowed.

If this truly was that Demon Slayer, then she could not afford to be careless.

On the street below, Asuramaru looked up.

"Take her down, Tanjirou."

The moment he spoke, his body dissolved into black mist. The smoke streamed backward and merged into the sword at Tanjirou's waist.

Tanjirou's hand closed around the hilt.

He drew Asuramaru.

Then he leapt from the eaves and landed lightly in the street, facing Upper Rank Six head-on.

His thoughts were clear.

Where Asuramaru pointed, he would strike.

Tanjirou gripped the sword with both hands and pushed off the ground without hesitation.

The instant he moved, flames surged along Asuramaru's edge, lighting up the dim street like the first flare of dawn.

Daki's pupils contracted.

That was him.

There was no mistake.

This was the Demon Slayer Muzan wanted dead.

And that meant he was not an opponent she and Gyutaro could handle lightly.

She reacted at once. Several sashes lashed out from behind her, slicing through the air with a sharp whistle. Their speed was enough to carve through flesh and bone before most swordsmen could even blink.

But in Tanjirou's eyes, they were slow.

Far too slow.

He reversed his grip.

"Hinokami Kagura: Burning Bones, Summer Sun!"

His body spun.

The sword swept out in a blazing arc, and fiery spirals bloomed across the street. Every sash that came for him was severed in a flash, cut apart by heat bright enough to make the shadows recoil.

Daki's face twisted.

Pain screamed through her severed sashes.

It was not the clean pain of a normal wound. It burned. It gnawed. The cuts refused to close properly, the flames clinging to the wounds like sunlight.

So the information was true.

This sword, this boy, they were dangerous.

"You little brat!"

Daki raised both arms, ready to send more sashes tearing through him.

But Tanjirou was already in front of her.

His next strike looked almost plain.

No roar of flame. No elaborate movement. Just one clean step, one silent slash, and the two figures passed each other.

Tanjirou landed behind her.

Daki's head dropped neatly into her own hands.

Her body remained standing for half a breath, then collapsed to its knees.

"Wha... what?"

She stared down at the face in her palms, unable to understand why the world had shifted.

"Why is my vision...?"

Only then did the truth catch up with her.

She had been beheaded.

A strangled groan escaped her lips as the pain finally erupted.

Tanjirou slowly turned back, his brows knitting beneath the fox mask.

"Is this really an Upper Rank?" he murmured, more puzzled than proud. "Her strength feels closer to one of Hantengu's clones."

Even so, he did not relax.

Hantengu had taught him better than that.

A demon who survived decapitation was never simple. The fact that Daki's head had not begun to crumble only confirmed his suspicion.

This one might not be the main body.

Tanjirou tightened his grip and asked inwardly, "Asuramaru, can you sense where this demon's real body is?"

Before Asuramaru could answer, Daki's flawless white body split.

Something hideous pushed its way out.

A gaunt demon with dark green hair emerged from her back, his limbs too thin, his posture twisted, his skin marked with sickly patches. He looked like envy and resentment had been carved into flesh and given a voice.

Gyutaro.

The other half of Upper Rank Six.

Tanjirou moved the moment he appeared.

He kicked off the ground and charged, sword wrapped in flame, aiming to cut Gyutaro down before he could fully separate.

Gyutaro's grin warped.

Two blood-red sickles appeared in his hands, and he swung them with vicious speed.

"Blood Demon Art: Flying Blood Sickles!"

A net of blood slashes burst outward.

They were thin as cicada wings and sharp as blades, spinning through the air from every angle. In an instant, Tanjirou's path of retreat was sealed.

Tanjirou had faced demons who weaponized blood before.

He did not panic.

His sword flashed.

One slash after another met the incoming blood blades, cutting them apart until they fell as ordinary droplets across the ground.

Gyutaro watched, eyes narrowing with jealous delight.

"What a sharp sword..." His voice dragged, twisted and bitter. "For Muzan-sama to want you dead this badly, you must be talented. Gifted. Special."

His grin twitched.

"I'm so envious... ah, so envious I can hardly stand it."

The blood slashes that had fallen away suddenly curved midair.

They changed direction.

Like boomerangs, they spun back toward Tanjirou from behind, coiling around him in a deadly web.

So he can control the blood even after releasing it.

Tanjirou's gaze sharpened.

He did not ask Asuramaru for power.

Not this time.

He wanted to defeat an Upper Rank with his own strength.

He wanted to prove that the title of Sun Hashira was not something given to him by chance, nor something he carried only because Asuramaru stood with him.

The blood sickles swept in.

Tanjirou shifted his stance and raised his sword.

At the same time, Daki lifted her severed head and pressed it back onto her neck. Flesh began knitting together slowly, the wound resisting regeneration where Asuramaru's edge had cut.

Her expression was ugly.

Humiliation, pain, and fear tangled together in her eyes.

She was an Upper Rank. She was supposed to be the hunter here. Yet she had been beheaded before she even understood the difference in strength.

Her rage turned toward the other parts of herself.

Through the sashes hidden across the district, she issued a command.

"Eat all the humans. Now. Then return to me immediately!"

Far below Ogimoto House, in the cramped underground chamber, one of Daki's sash clones was just about to devour a trapped human.

The air was thick with dust and fear.

Sashes stretched everywhere like a grotesque web, pinning human bodies in place. Some were barely conscious. Some could no longer even scream. Faces and limbs pressed against the fabric outlines, trapped in a living prison.

At the end of one sash, eyes and a mouth opened.

It had just received Daki's order.

Then the ceiling above cracked.

A wild roar exploded through the underground space.

"Hahahaha! Boar Assault! Boar Assault!"

A boar-headed figure burst into the cavern with two jagged Nichirin swords in hand.

"Remember this! The one who killed you is Lord Inosuke!"

The sash clone recoiled.

"A Demon Slayer? Damn it!"

Daki's main body immediately sensed the intrusion and barked another order through their connection.

"Kill that Demon Slayer quickly! Eat the humans afterward and return to me!"

The sash clone attacked.

Countless bands of cloth snapped forward, cutting through the air from every direction.

Inosuke laughed and met them head-on.

His two swords moved like the claws of a wild beast, tearing through fabric, parrying slashes, and carving open space in the suffocating underground chamber. His movements were crude, unpredictable, and viciously effective.

For a time, neither side could overwhelm the other.

Aboveground, the battle on the outskirts of Yoshiwara grew fiercer.

Tanjirou faced Gyutaro and Daki together, firelight flashing against blood-red sickles and fluttering sashes. Each step scraped across the road. Each clash sent sparks and droplets of blood scattering into the night.

And far away, within the shifting labyrinth of the Infinity Castle, Muzan Kibutsuji sensed the violent surge of emotion from Daki and Gyutaro.

His attention snapped toward them.

Through their eyes, he saw the battle.

Three figures moved in the dark street.

Daki.

Gyutaro.

And the boy with the fox mask.

Muzan's expression darkened.

"They appeared this quickly?"

His voice was low, heavy with suspicion.

"But why there? Why are they fighting Gyutaro and Daki?"

.....

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