Pfft!
Muzan suddenly coughed up a mouthful of crimson blood.
His slit pupils contracted sharply as he stared at the blood staining his palm in disbelief.
The enormous dose of poison Shinobu had injected was spreading throughout his body.
It seemed to be interfering with his regeneration—or rather, forcing his body to expend an enormous amount of vitality simply to keep healing.
Every beat of his hearts now carried a faint stab of pain.
Even so, the poison was nowhere near enough to kill Muzan.
At most, it made his movements stiffer, slowed his reactions, and weakened his fighting ability.
Yet even that was enough to leave Muzan genuinely shaken.
"You damned woman!"
Muzan glared at Shinobu through gritted teeth.
He wanted nothing more than to tear apart the woman who still wore that cold smile, yet the thorn whips surging wildly from his body had lost much of their former precision and viciousness.
Several thrusts failed to hit Shinobu at all, despite her having lost an arm.
And Shinobu was hardly the only opponent in front of him.
Tanjiro gave Muzan no chance to recover.
Having witnessed Shinobu sacrifice an arm just to poison him, his resolve burned even fiercer.
He tightened both hands around his Nichirin blade as crimson light surged violently along its edge, hotter and brighter than before.
"Hinokami Kagura: Burning Bones, Summer Sun!!!"
A scorching crimson arc tore through the air like the blazing sun itself falling from the heavens and slashed straight toward Muzan.
The heat trailing behind it was so intense that even the surrounding air visibly distorted.
Zenitsu and Inosuke charged alongside Tanjiro at the same moment, golden lightning and silver-white blade light striking from both sides.
Muzan naturally saw all three attacks coming. His instincts told him to defend, but his body reacted a fraction too slowly.
The shield of flesh forming from his arm failed to reach him in time.
Neither did the thorn whips behind him.
Clang!
Inosuke's twin blades tore through the fleshy shield.
Rip!
Zenitsu's golden slash severed the thorn whips trying to intercept them.
Then, directly in front of Muzan, Tanjiro's crimson Nichirin blade came crashing down.
Pshk!
The reddened blade buried itself deep into the flesh of Muzan's neck.
The edges of the wound instantly blackened as though scorched by fire. Muzan's body convulsed violently.
The agony of being struck directly by Sun Breathing dragged the terror of centuries past roaring back into his mind like a tidal wave, almost drowning what remained of his reason.
"AAAAH! GET OFF ME!"
Muzan's thorn whips thrashed madly, trying to tear Tanjiro apart, but Zenitsu and Inosuke desperately intercepted them.
The two fought with everything they had to keep Muzan occupied and preserve the opening for Tanjiro.
Tanjiro refused to waste what his friends had given him.
Both hands clenched around the hilt so tightly it felt as though the handle might fuse into his palms.
With every ounce of strength remaining in his body, he forced the Nichirin blade farther down through Muzan's neck.
"AAAAAAHHH!!!"
"GET OFF!!!"
Tanjiro and Muzan's roars overlapped.
One carried an indomitable will.
The other carried absolute rage—and unmistakable terror.
Boom!
The immense forces colliding between them released a violent shockwave that swept a cloud of dust across the battlefield, swallowing all four figures.
Bang!
Through the obscured vision, a shadow seemed to flash.
When the dust finally cleared enough to see again, one mangled figure came scrambling out of it.
This time, there was no excuse about merely getting away from troublesome insects.
Muzan was simply running.
Truly running.
Without the slightest shred of dignity left.
His figure tore through the ruins at tremendous speed. T
he gash across his neck extended all the way down into his chest, deep enough that two of his writhing hearts could faintly be seen inside.
Yet his expression was even more grotesque than his wounds.
Humiliation, fury, fear, and a sense of collapse that even Muzan himself could not understand churned in his crimson eyes.
He did not know what had happened to him.
But he was genuinely afraid of these humans now.
They were so weak, so fragile.
Why did some of them refuse to fear him? Why would they refuse to submit?
How could creatures so insignificant threaten to kill him when he had finally become the perfect ultimate life-form?
Once Muzan committed himself entirely to escape, his speed became astonishing.
Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke chased with everything they had but could not catch him.
Even Shinobu, the fastest among them, was too badly wounded to keep pace.
Yet just when Muzan believed he could escape, fate seemed to laugh in his face.
He had barely broken free of the ruins before several figures appeared directly ahead.
Sanemi Shinazugawa's emerald-green wind blade was already screaming toward him, carrying violent killing intent as it slashed for his face.
From the side came Giyu Tomioka's water-blue tide, intertwining with Sabito's blade light to form an airtight net of water.
Obanai Iguro's winding serpent strike emerged from the shadows.
And Kyojuro Rengoku's orange-red Flame Tiger descended from above, crashing toward Muzan's head.
"Muzan! DIE!!!"
Five blade lights struck simultaneously, tearing apart the body that had only just managed to regenerate.
Dark-red blood sprayed through the air like rain.
Muzan's body shook violently beneath the barrage. He did not even have time to counterattack before taking every strike head-on.
And then—
He kept running.
'Lunatics! They're all lunatics!'
Muzan screamed inwardly as his ruined body regenerated frantically while he fled.
The speed of that regeneration, however, was far less impressive than before.
Every cell in his body was now locked in a desperate battle with Shinobu's poison, just as fiercely as Muzan himself was fighting for survival.
His growing weakness felt like a death sentence hanging over his head, constantly reminding him how dangerous his situation had become.
After barely breaking through the combined assault of several Hashira, Muzan immediately changed direction and fled at full speed.
The Hashira and other Demon Slayers chased relentlessly behind him.
At that moment, Muzan had never missed Nakime more.
Then he ran into another wall.
A wall made of steel.
At the edge of the ruins, nearly a hundred heavily armed guards stood across the street with rifles raised, their weapons gleaming coldly beneath the morning sun.
Behind their formation stood a young woman in a sharply tailored suit.
The instant Chinatsu saw Muzan, she gave the order without hesitation.
"Fire!"
The guards of the Ryūmori Group, recruited and trained over many years, did not hesitate for even a moment.
Gunfire erupted like strings of firecrackers.
More than a hundred rifles spat flame simultaneously.
Bullets poured toward Muzan like a torrential storm, completely swallowing his figure.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The dense gunfire thundered through the sky.
Countless bullets slammed into Muzan at once, each impact like another invisible hammer crashing into his body.
His flesh shuddered violently beneath the barrage.
The bullets could not kill him outright, but the sheer force of their combined impact nearly tore Muzan apart.
Before long, his body had been reduced to little more than a mangled mass of bloody flesh.
"You… insects!!"
The voice forced through his damaged vocal cords was thick with hatred.
Chinatsu sucked in a sharp breath as she watched the mass of flesh struggling beneath the relentless hail of bullets.
This demon's vitality was absurdly tenacious.
And these were no ordinary rounds.
She had paid an enormous price to have the guards' ammunition specially manufactured using Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand, the same material used in Nichirin blades.
"Keep firing! Don't stop!"
The barrage continued.
Muzan was driven backward step after step, too overwhelmed to notice that he was being forced toward the far end of the street.
And from that direction—
A lone figure was already approaching him.