No matter how much a demon merges with something enormous, its weakness—the neck—always remains.
And now, that neck had been pierced clean through by the combined strike of Chika and Tanjiro.
The entire Mugen Train echoed with the demon's dying scream.
Mugen Train—Rampage!
Just before their blades tore through his neck, Enmu already knew.
The makeshift layers of flesh he had conjured were useless against the two cunning attackers.
Why… why… WHY?!
He had dreamed of devouring every life aboard the train, gaining power, earning Muzan's favor, and being rewarded with more of his master's blood.
He wanted to challenge an Upper Moon—defeat them—and take their place.
Such a perfect dream… shattered in an instant.
To lose to a Hashira would've been humiliating, yes, but understandable. That would have been a matter of strength.
But this—
To die before even fighting seriously—
To be outplayed by two schemers who stabbed him before he could even show his power—
It was unbearable!
Humiliation twisted into hatred.
Hatred festered into despair.
In that single moment before his neck was severed, Enmu unleashed his final curse.
His wrath rippled through the entire train—
from every wall and ceiling, from every bolt of metal, sprouted hundreds of writhing, grotesque tentacles.
If he couldn't devour the humans, he'd kill them all!
He'd prove that humanity was weak, fragile, and undeserving of survival!
The monstrous limbs tore through the cars, striking toward the sleeping passengers.
But before they could reach—
FWOOSH!
A blazing inferno surged through five of the eight train cars, consuming the tendrils in an instant.
"Flame Breathing, Fourth Form: Blooming Flame Tiger!"
Rengoku Kyojuro exhaled, his crimson blade still blazing.
He would never allow a demon's corruption to reach the innocent.
Meanwhile, in the other cars—Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko were not idle.
Inosuke's wild laughter echoed as he spun his dual blades, carving through every tendril within reach.
"Beast Breathing—Rip and Tear!" he shouted, hacking wildly yet precisely.
Zenitsu, on the other hand, fought with terrifying grace.
Lightning flashed through his car—each streak marking another severed limb.
He fell to one knee as silence followed, his sword sliding smoothly back into its sheath.
So cool.
…It would've been even cooler if his nose weren't bubbling from his sleep-snore.
Yes—Zenitsu was still asleep.
Chika had slapped him awake earlier, of course—
but the boy had grown up under a master who beat him senseless daily.
Her slap was far too mild to rouse him.
And frankly… she decided a sleeping Zenitsu was more reliable than an awake one.
Nezuko, meanwhile, darted from wall to wall, her blade flashing blue as she desperately tried to keep up.
Her Water Breathing was still clumsy, her strikes inconsistent—
she was fighting with heart, not skill.
The tentacles lashed against her arms and shoulders, slicing through skin.
Blood splattered across her sword.
Nezuko hissed softly, glancing down at her wounds.
Then she tore out her bamboo gag, her eyes glowing scarlet.
"Raaagh!" she roared, charging once more.
Then it happened.
A strange, crimson fire erupted from her blade—
not the steady burn of Flame Breathing, nor the ritual heat of the Hinokami Kagura—
but something else. Something alive.
The watery aura around her sword was instantly swallowed by the blaze.
The flames surged—
and the car ignited around her.
"E-EH?!"
Nezuko froze, eyes wide like marbles.
She frantically looked around—panic written across her face.
Then, almost instinctively, she stomped her foot—
and the fire vanished, scattering like wind-blown petals.
No scorch marks.
No burns.
The passengers were completely unharmed.
She exhaled in relief and slumped to the floor, dizzy.
Then, an idea sparked in her mind.
She raised her hand—her wounds already gone.
Nezuko blinked, then bit her lip and nicked her palm, letting a single drop of blood fall onto her sword.
"Exploding Blood!"
With a flare, the blade ignited again—scarlet flames dancing along its edge.
Her mouth opened in a delighted "O."
"Whoa—this is so fun!"
She slashed playfully through the air.
Fwoosh!—ignite.
Pop!—extinguish.
Fwoosh!—ignite again.
Her laughter echoed through the train.
Outside, Enmu's severed head tumbled from the roof, rolling across the ground.
His mind, still conscious, reeled in disbelief.
Failure… total failure.
Even his final act of spite hadn't taken a single human life.
His hatred mixed with regret—his essence unraveling into ash.
He had loved to offer humans a perfect dream… only to drag them into a nightmare afterward.
Now, he longed for that very illusion—
for this to be nothing but a dream.
Even if it was a nightmare.
But it wasn't.
The Lower Moon One, Enmu, disintegrated into nothing.
Without him, the Mugen Train slowed—its power fading along with his life.
The iron wheels screamed one last time before grinding to a stop.
Everyone inside exhaled in relief.
Everyone—except Chika.
Her gaze hardened.
The next opponent wouldn't fall so easily.
Knowing the story's flow had allowed her to defeat Enmu swiftly—
but the next battle couldn't be "skipped."
Running was impossible.
The one coming wasn't here by accident—
he was ordered by Muzan himself to annihilate everyone aboard.
Chika steadied her breathing, forcing her pulse to calm.
The air around her grew still.
She could already feel it—
that monstrous, suffocating presence drawing near through the night.
Upper Moon Three—Akaza.