Mizuki had a nightmare, dreaming that Michikatsu had still turned into a demon.
Waking up abruptly, she was drenched in sweat.
Mizuki gasped slightly, her throat dry.
She fumbled in the dark for the teacup on the table, and only felt a little relieved after drinking it all.
Truly, what one thinks about during the day, one dreams about at night.
Mizuki let out a long breath, estimating Michikatsu's mission time.
The place where Michikatsu was performing his mission this time was not far, only a two-day journey.
He had been out for a week; if things went smoothly, he should be back by now.
Could it be... Mizuki shook her still hazy head and scoffed at herself.
She was quite good at scaring herself.
She returned to bed, just about to lie down, when a gentle breeze suddenly arrived, and a figure abruptly appeared in the room.
Mizuki's hair stood on end. She propped herself up on the bed, rolled to the corner, and retrieved her blade.
Facing the shadow, Mizuki shouted, "Who's there!"
The shadow ignored her, instead going to the table and lighting the oil lamp.
With the faint light, Mizuki saw the visitor's attire and back; it was Michikatsu.
"Brother, you're going to scare someone to death like this! Trespassing into a girl's room in the middle of the night will get you labeled a pervert!" Mizuki relaxed and complained.
However, just as she was about to put her nichirin blade back on the stand, Michikatsu, holding the oil lamp, turned around. What met Mizuki's eyes was a demon with six eyes.
Mizuki's pupils constricted sharply, and a chill ran through her body, as if she had fallen into an ice cave.
Was she still dreaming?
But why was she so clear-headed now?
After a long silence, Mizuki's jaw trembled slightly, and she squeezed out a few words.
"Why?"
Michikatsu's face was... no, at this moment, his face was covered by six eyes, and no human expression could be seen.
Michikatsu's calm voice rang out, "Mizuki, you should also become a demon. That way, whether it's your lungs..."
"I asked you why!"
Mizuki's angry voice interrupted him, like a mad tiger about to go wild, her hand gripping the blade trembling, almost unable to resist drawing it and attacking.
As a modern person, Mizuki was very open-minded.
Demons like Nezuko, who were forced to become demons, or demons like Tamayo, who, despite having eaten many people after turning into a demon, later awakened and had been atoning for her sins.
Mizuki could understand them and was friendly towards them.
But voluntarily becoming a demon, this point was absolutely unforgivable.
This was different from the struggle between good and evil in wuxia novels; even in the so-called evil factions, there might be people who had never done a single bad deed.
But demons were different; demons would definitely eat people!
This was something no one with normal values could accept!
Looking at Michikatsu's hideous appearance, Mizuki didn't feel fear, but extreme anger.
Following closely was an emotion called heartbreak.
Having been together for over twenty years, did Mizuki truly have no feelings for her family?
Of course she did.
Although Michikatsu was too stubborn in many ways, making Mizuki constantly break down and yell about putting him on some social media platform, he, as an older brother, was not without a kind and gentle side towards his younger sister.
Yoriichi, who was emotionally 鈍, had always regarded Michikatsu as a gentle elder brother.
She had already guided him like that... Mizuki's nose felt a little sore, and sensing the tears about to overflow from her eyes, she bit her lip tightly, forcing them back.
Michikatsu ignored the anger on her face and spoke again, "If you become a demon, you will have endless years to hone your sword skills, and the pain in your lungs will be easily healed."
Clang~
Mizuki slowly drew her nichirin blade, her expression gloomy: "I didn't come into this world to become a demon."
She wanted to... cut off Michikatsu's neck!
Mizuki softly exhaled a white mist, "Snow Breathing, Sixth Form: Snow Drifts Ten Thousand Miles!"
The nichirin blade, held high in her hand, struck down with immense force. A terrifying white sword wave reached Michikatsu's eyes in an instant, as if it would cut him in half the next moment.
Clink~
A crisp clang of swords.
In Michikatsu's hand, a flesh sword covered in eyes and reeking of putrefaction had forcefully stopped Mizuki's nichirin blade.
This was the long sword Michikatsu forged from his own flesh, named cry of emptiness.
The putrid stench from the blade almost made Mizuki faint, and the gloom in her eyes was almost overflowing.
"You! You ate people, didn't you!"
Only demons who had eaten people would have such a scent.
She didn't give Michikatsu a chance to answer.
"Snow Breathing, Fifth Form: Snow Run."
Mizuki's figure vanished into a white streak in the dark night, like residual snow in the wind, scattered by the passing breeze.
Snow Run was not an offensive Sword Form, but a footwork that concealed one's presence.
However, the next moment, Michikatsu, without turning his head, extended cry of emptiness behind him.
Clang!
Mizuki's eyes narrowed slightly, her wrist, striking towards Michikatsu's neck, trembled incessantly, yet she couldn't advance an inch.
Michikatsu gently parried her attack, and the slight shame in his heart dissipated.
He had become stronger.
He could feel it clearly.
Pushed away, Mizuki adjusted her posture in mid-air, landed on both feet, and pushed off forcefully, rocketing towards Michikatsu like a human cannonball.
"Snow Breathing, Seventh Fo—" An itch in her throat from forceful breathing, coupled with intermittent pain in her lungs, caused Mizuki's vision to blacken as if she were anemic. In a daze, she crashed into a nearby table.
"Cough, cough..."
A few drops of blood fell from Mizuki's lips. She had no time to worry, quickly got up, and looked up at Michikatsu.
However, Michikatsu was no longer there. Mizuki was slightly startled and quickly turned her head.
"One day you will understand."
This was the last voice she heard before losing consciousness.
Michikatsu gently tapped her neck, knocking her unconscious.
Mizuki was only twenty-three years old, with three years left until the Demon Slayer Mark's limit. The closer one gets to death, the more one fears death.
Mizuki, with her dream of being the strongest swordsman, would surely choose the same path as him at the brink of life and death.
Yoriichi, I was right... Almost at the very moment Mizuki fell unconscious, Yoriichi, who was on a mission outside, encountered the Demon King in a bamboo forest.
The Demon King was dressed in magnificent attire, followed by a woman with a faint look of sorrow.
Just by meeting him, Yoriichi understood.
Why he was born with talent far surpassing ordinary people—perhaps it was precisely to defeat this so-called progenitor of demons.
The Demon King was filled with tyrannical vitality, like magma erupting from a volcano, boiling and surging, threatening to devour everything.
"I'm no longer interested in swordsmen who use Breathing Techniques." At their first meeting, Demon King Kibutsuji Muzan said with an arrogant smile.
The moment the Demon King's words fell, his arm ripped into a whip and struck towards Yoriichi. The astonishing speed and power instantly severed the bamboo along its path in the blink of an eye.
It was the first time Yoriichi had felt a chill down his spine since he was born.
And almost simultaneously, Yoriichi's eyes saw through Muzan's true nature of having seven hearts and five brains.
The Thirteenth Form of Sun Breathing was completed by Yoriichi, and rampant orange-red flames instantly engulfed Muzan's entire body with terrifying power and speed.
When the flames died down, Muzan supported his severed head, his eyes filled with confusion.
Yoriichi slowly advanced, holding his scarlet blade. There was one question he absolutely had to ask.
"What do you take life for?"
Muzan's cheeks, turned reddish-black with rage, were covered in bulging veins.
Yoriichi suddenly turned his gaze to the girl the Demon King had brought with him. She didn't step forward to help, but instead gazed expectantly at the decapitated Demon King.
Just as Yoriichi was about to deliver the final blow to Muzan, the sound of Muzan grinding his teeth came, and he instantly split into 1,800 pieces of flesh, scattering in all directions.
In haste, Yoriichi subconsciously swung his blade, instantly cutting down 1,500 pieces.
But over 300 pieces, roughly the size of a human head when combined, still escaped.
Due to the sudden situation, Yoriichi stood dazed and disoriented.
The crying sound of the girl beside him brought him back to his senses.
"Just a little more, it was just a little more, and he actually overcame the weakness of his neck."
The girl knelt on the ground, gritting her teeth and speaking, fiercely pulling at her hair.
"Why didn't he die! This filthy man!"
"Kibutsuji Muzan!"
Amidst her grief and indignation, the girl stared blankly at her hands.
"Didn't die? Why didn't I die?"
Perhaps it was because Muzan was weakened, temporarily freeing her from his control.
She was so unlike a demon. Yoriichi comforted the panicked girl named Tamayo.
From her, he learned much information about Muzan.
Furthermore, she said that the progenitor of demons, Kibutsuji Muzan, would likely not reappear until his death.
After making a pact with Tamayo to assist in defeating Muzan, Yoriichi was found by his comrades from the Demon Slayer Corps.
The swordsman of the Rengoku Family, the Flame Hashira, shook Yoriichi's arms: "Michikatsu turned into a demon and killed the Master. Mizuki is still unconscious from fighting him."