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'Compared to that white-haired hunter—that man was the real monster.'
Yoriichi Tsugikuni's image surfaced in Muzan's consciousness. Unbearable memories flooded back.
The more he remembered, the greater his fury. He lashed out with renewed aggression.
Tanjiro sensed the shift immediately. 'His attacks are weakening. The scars are becoming impossible to hide or repair. Muzan really is deteriorating! This is our chance!'
'Everyone... everyone will recover soon! Just hold on a little longer!'
But Muzan had reached a different conclusion. Without understanding the full extent of Tamayo's assault, he'd already decided—escape was the only option.
He didn't know how many drugs that witch had injected through her severed arm. But his body's accelerating decay was undeniable.
'Aging...?? It has to be an aging compound! If that's true, Tamayo injected me nearly five hours ago in the explosion. Add three more hours fighting from the Castle collapse until now...'
His mind calculated with mounting horror.
'I've aged... at least nine thousand years!'
"That witch Tamayo! I'll never forgive her!"
"Sun Breathing, Fifth Form: Setting Sun Transformation!"
As Tanjiro's strike descended, Muzan vanished—reappearing behind him before accelerating into a full sprint.
"He's running?? Iguro-san—Muzan's escaping!" Tanjiro gave chase, shouting.
"Running??" Obanai pursued immediately, his thoughts racing. 'Of course. Muzan isn't some prideful samurai or emotion-driven human. He's a creature defined solely by survival instinct. With dawn approaching and his life threatened, he'll flee without hesitation.'
Corpses of fallen Corps members littered Muzan's escape route. He trampled over them without a second thought—focused entirely on survival.
Witnessing this desecration ignited Tanjiro's fury. 'He's trampling the dead! UNFORGIVABLE!'
He bit down on his blade, grabbed fallen swords from the ground, and hurled them.
Muzan glanced back—whips obliterating every projectile—
In that split second of distraction, he failed to notice the figure materializing directly ahead.
"GET BACK HERE!"
CRACK!!
Kaido's full-force kick connected with Muzan's face, snapping his head three-hundred-sixty degrees.
A second kick hammered into his torso—launching the Demon King backward.
Bandages wrapped Kaido's arms and legs. His right hand was bound to the Longsword, the blade secured with cloth strips.
He'd taken a shortcut after seeing Muzan flee. Tanjiro's distraction had created the perfect opening.
The others arrived moments later—originals and clones, all recovering from treatment.
Gyomei's group converged from another direction. Kaido's earlier Eleventh Form technique had generated shockwaves powerful enough to reopen their wounds—knocking them unconscious briefly.
"FULL POWER—DON'T LET MUZAN ESCAPE!"
"RIGHT!"
Surrounded once more by over twenty Hashira-level combatants plus Tanjiro, Muzan felt something alien—despair.
'All of you humans should DIE!'
But regardless of emotion, survival demanded action. He would carve an escape route through their corpses if necessary.
"Dragon Breathing, Eighth Form: Wandering Dragon Assault!"
Kaido charged first—driving straight toward Muzan. The Demon King deployed every whip simultaneously.
In his calculation, eliminating either Kaido or Tanjiro would create a breakthrough. Once he escaped this encirclement, the rest couldn't stop him.
He targeted Kaido—closest proximity.
Beautiful theory. Brutal reality.
Kaido ignored his wounds, ignored the blood seeping through his abdominal bandages—focusing solely on deflecting whip strikes with the Longsword, creating openings for his comrades.
The others raised their weapons and attacked as one.
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After running for what felt like eternity, Nezuko—still not fully human—finally reached the urban district.
Staring at the destruction, memories flooded back. Tears streamed freely.
She stumbled down the rural path leading into the city, exhausted beyond measure. Images of her family's slaughter replayed endlessly.
'Nezuko, run!'
'Run, sister—RUN!'
'Just this little blood and she can't handle it. Creating a demon that conquers sunlight won't be easy.'
The cascade of memory ignited both grief and rage.
'Nezuko, don't worry—your brother will save you!'
'Nezuko, humans are your family. Protect them. Never let demons harm them.'
'Tanjiro, your sister isn't ugly—she's beautiful!'
'So you're Nezuko?'
'I hope everyone can accept Tanjiro and Nezuko.'
'Nezuko, thank you for showing me the truth. I need to apologize to the Master.'
'Ara, Nezuko-chan is so adorable!'
'Want to see the goldfish, Nezuko?'
'I acknowledge you both—Kamado boy, Nezuko!'
'I flamboyantly accept you!'
Each memory painted itself across her consciousness. Tears fell like rain.
"Nezuko, no matter what happens—your brother will always protect you."
Her head snapped up, eyes finding the moon.
Everything returned. Every memory restored.
"That's right... my name is... Kamado Nezuko. My family... was killed by demons."
In that moment, the last vestiges of her demonic transformation vanished. She was human again—completely.
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"CAW! TWENTY MINUTES UNTIL DAWN!"
The crow's announcement triggered immediate realization in Kaido—the clones' time was almost up.
After prolonged combat, victory seemed within reach. The scales were finally tipping in their favor.
But if the clones disappeared, they'd lose half their fighting force. He hadn't seen the original story's ending—didn't know if all the Hashira had survived.
What he knew now: without the clones, eleven Hashira plus Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Kanao, and Genya might not be enough to contain Muzan until sunrise.
Kaido's clone seemed to read the original's thoughts. Knowing he'd vanish minutes before the others, his decision crystallized.
Gripping his greatsword one-handed, he charged Muzan through his mangled body.
The other clones understood instantly. They raised their weapons and followed.
Their logic was simple—if they could inflict critical damage on Muzan, create more opportunities for the originals, perhaps he could be destroyed before dawn.
Even if they disappeared in the attempt, it didn't matter. They were duplicates with expiration dates anyway.
Better to fade while accomplishing something meaningful than simply timing out. If they couldn't kill him, at least they'd weaken him further. After that, everything depended on the originals.
"NO! You'll die!"
Kanae grabbed her clone's wrist desperately. The duplicate smiled gently. "This is the last thing we can do. Live well."
She pulled free and charged Muzan.
Kaido understood. Even as duplicates, they'd fought together—which made them comrades.
Suppressing the pain in his heart, he followed his clone forward.
The others did likewise. Destroying Muzan had always been their mission. Now it also carried the clones' final wish.
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