Chapter 92 92: You Have Successfully Infuriated Me!

Kokushibo's six eyes locked onto Asuramaru in Tanjirou's hand.

That sword was the key.

No matter how monstrous Tanjirou's body had become, no matter how far his strength had risen beyond human limits, everything still revolved around that strange weapon. If they could knock it away, if they could separate sword from swordsman, the battle would finally tilt in their favor.

Kokushibo's voice sank.

"Hold him down. I will strike the sword from his hand."

Douma smiled as if he had been asked to pour tea.

"Ah, leave it to me."

He pressed his palms together.

"Blood Demon Art: Frozen Mist, Crystalline Bodhisattva."

Pale mist poured out behind him.

The earth froze white. Frost crawled across the grass and stones. Then, from within the spreading cold, a towering ice Bodhisattva rose from the ground, its body gleaming beneath the moonlight. It stood nearly fifteen meters tall, serene and monstrous at once.

Douma sat upon an ice lotus blooming from its shoulder, folding fan resting in his hand as he gazed down at Tanjirou below.

Cold air rolled off the Bodhisattva in waves.

The surrounding ground turned brittle. Leaves froze in mid-fall. Even the air itself seemed to harden.

Douma raised one hand.

The ice Bodhisattva moved with him.

It had no strange trick this time. No elaborate technique. It simply lifted one massive arm and brought it down in a knife-hand strike.

Tanjirou's instincts screamed.

He threw himself aside.

Boom!

The ground where he had stood caved in. Frozen cracks spread outward like a spiderweb, and shattered earth burst into the air.

Douma's eyes curved with amusement.

"Oh my, you dodged it. Even without that special state, you're still quite terrifying."

Tanjirou had no time to answer.

Kokushibo had already moved.

"Moon Breathing, Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon, Incessant."

Dense slashes surged forward, layered one over another until they seemed to fill the night. Countless crescent moon fragments spun within them, each one carrying lethal sharpness from an impossible angle.

Tanjirou gripped both swords.

Water surged around the edges.

"Water Breathing, Sixth Form: Whirlpool!"

He spun.

The water currents twisted with his body, forming a roaring whirlpool that swallowed the incoming moonlight slashes.

Steel screamed.

Water shattered.

Crescent fragments slipped through the gaps.

When the two sides separated, several shallow wounds had opened across Tanjirou's arms and shoulders. Blood darkened his uniform.

But there was no chance to breathe.

The ice Bodhisattva opened its mouth.

A vast wave of freezing air poured out, rolling toward him with enough force to freeze the entire field.

Tanjirou's eyes sharpened.

Demon Power surged along Asuramaru.

"Getsuga Tensho!"

A black crescent tore out.

Then another.

And another.

The pitch-black slashes carved through the freezing air, splitting the frost wave apart before it could spread.

Kokushibo's expression remained calm, but his gaze deepened.

Douma's smile also thinned.

Even after leaving Demonization, this boy was still not prey they could easily devour.

If Muzan himself were here, perhaps the outcome would be different.

But now, the two of them had no choice except to continue.

The battle grew harsher with every exchange.

No one remembered how long they had been fighting.

Kokushibo's body was now covered in wounds, each one slow to close. Every time Asuramaru cut him, he immediately severed the damaged flesh himself and threw it away, preventing the Demon Curse from spreading deeper.

If he had hesitated even once, he might already have died under Tanjirou's sword.

Douma looked better on the surface, but his condition was far from easy. His Demon Power had been heavily drained. Even the towering ice Bodhisattva had lost one arm, and wounds that refused to heal properly marked his body.

Tanjirou was not unharmed either.

Asuramaru healed him every time he was injured, but his spirit was beginning to falter. His breathing grew rough. His arms felt heavy. Still, he stood in the open field with both swords in hand, refusing to fall.

Behind him, the wooden box had long since been placed behind an inconspicuous rock.

The lid shifted.

Nezuko climbed out.

Her body grew as she ran, changing from a small girl into a beautiful young woman. A demon horn curved from her forehead, and fangs pressed against her lips, but her eyes remained clear.

She had not lost herself.

Her gaze fell on Tanjirou's back, and determination filled her face.

Tanjirou noticed her almost immediately.

"Nezuko, go back!" His voice tightened. "Leave this to me!"

Nezuko ignored him.

She stepped forward and reached for the swords in his hands.

"Nezuko, what are you doing?!"

Tanjirou's eyes widened. He tried to pull back, but she gripped the edges with both hands.

Blood ran down from her palms.

The moment her blood touched the swords, cherry-pink flames erupted.

Tanjirou froze.

"This is... Nezuko's Blood Demon Art."

The flames did not burn him.

They were warm.

Gentle.

They crawled along the swords, wrapping around the steel before merging with the fire of the Hinokami Kagura.

Tanjirou's gaze hardened.

Kokushibo stared at Nezuko without emotion.

"So this is the demon who escaped Muzan's control. She must also be killed."

Douma, on the other hand, looked fascinated.

"Oh? How interesting. A demon who burns demons. How unfair."

But in the end, both Upper Ranks understood the priority.

Tanjirou had to die first.

Tanjirou turned slightly, his voice urgent.

"Nezuko, hide far away. Your brother will be fine."

Then he faced forward again.

Both swords burned now, wrapped in pink flames and the blazing fire of the Hinokami Kagura. The two flames intertwined, and the heat rising from them became sharper and purer.

Douma lifted his fan, still smiling.

"That looks quite hot. I wonder if the god inside that sword can feel heat too."

Kokushibo's pupils contracted.

The swords had changed.

The steel glowed red.

Bright Red Nichirin Swords.

He had awakened the Slayer Mark.

Now he held Bright Red Swords as well.

If he reached the Transparent World next, then this boy might truly begin to resemble Yoriichi.

That possibility could not be allowed.

"Hold him back," Kokushibo said. "His spirit is near its limit. He cannot last much longer."

He stepped back and unleashed wide-range Moon Breathing attacks, forcing Tanjirou to spend more strength defending.

Douma was even more direct.

Ice puppets formed one after another. The Crystalline Bodhisattva struck from above, its remaining arm crashing down again and again, while freezing mist swept across the field.

The battle continued.

One exchange.

Then another.

Then another.

Hours crawled by beneath the moon.

At last, the sky began to pale.

Four o'clock in the morning.

Only one hour remained until sunrise.

Tanjirou's spirit had reached its edge.

And Kokushibo saw it.

"Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon, Evening Palace!"

His sword flashed.

Tanjirou raised both swords to block, but the force drove through his guard and sent him flying backward.

Before he could regain his footing, Douma controlled the ice Bodhisattva to strike.

A massive palm slammed into Tanjirou's body.

He was sent tumbling across the ground.

Asuramaru slipped from his grasp.

The sword spun through the air, then turned on its own and shot toward Tanjirou.

Kokushibo had been waiting for that moment.

He stepped forward and blocked its path.

At the same time, Douma guided the ice Bodhisattva toward Tanjirou, intending to crush him before he could recover.

But a figure lunged out from the shadows.

Nezuko grabbed Tanjirou and fled, sprinting across the field with all her strength.

Inside the sword, Asuramaru's fury finally boiled over.

The plan had failed.

Tanjirou had not awakened the Transparent World.

Worse, they had nearly been caught off guard.

Strictly speaking, Tanjirou was not in true danger. A large amount of residual Demon Power still remained inside his body. Asuramaru could control it to defend or counterattack at any moment.

Killing Tanjirou was nothing but a fantasy.

But that did not make Asuramaru any less angry.

Black mist erupted from the sword.

A Demon Power Avatar formed in midair.

Asuramaru appeared, one hand wrapped around his true form, crimson eyes burning with naked killing intent. His delicate face was calm, but the pressure spilling from him was anything but.

His lips parted.

"You have successfully infuriated me."

Kokushibo stared at him.

"So the true monster has appeared."

His grip tightened around his sword.

All he could do now was stall.

He could only place his hope in Douma.

Asuramaru raised his hand.

Lightning screamed.

"Chidori Sharp Spear!"

.....

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