In the shadowed recesses of an enormous, dimly lit chamber, the Upper Moons gathered, their forms encased in pools of darkness and flickering light. Silence weighed heavily, only broken by a steady, echoing tap of footsteps that heralded Muzan's arrival. As she entered, every demon felt a chilling wave of reverence and fear. Muzan, in her true, beautiful, and terrifying form, strode to the center. Tall and commanding, she wore a flowing black kimono that accentuated her hourglass figure, her long, midnight hair cascading to her thighs. Her blood-red eyes held a hypnotic, almost predatory allure, her gaze sweeping over her assembled followers with a detached yet dangerous elegance.
She stopped, letting the quiet stretch before speaking, her voice low and cold, but laced with a dark promise. "The failure of Upper Six and Upper Three," she began, each syllable weighed down by anger, "has forced me to consider replacements worthy of bearing my blood. They fell to mere mortals." Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "But that will not happen again."
At this, her gaze moved over the newly reshuffled ranks, beginning with the two shadowed figures. "You two—soon, you will prove yourselves worthy of the title. Your Blood Demon Arts are formidable, and I expect nothing less than absolute dedication."
The newcomers bowed deeply. One of them, a towering man with a scarred face and piercing yellow eyes, seemed almost jittery with eagerness. His blood demon art allowed him to manipulate shadows and transform them into deadly, blade-like appendages. Beside him, his partner was a woman with dark, coiling tendrils of hair, and an eerie smile. Her own blood demon art dealt in hallucinatory mists, able to drive enemies mad with just a breath. They were predators, ruthless even as humans.
Muzan's focus then fell to Gyokko, the now-promoted Upper Four, his grotesque figure huddled into a pool of writhing mouths and eyes that gleamed with newfound satisfaction. "Gyokko," she ordered, "you told me that you've located the hidden Swordsmith Village. You will go there with Upper Three, Hantengu, and lay waste to everything. The Swordsmiths are integral to the Demon Slayer Corps, and their destruction will cripple their strength."
Gyokko grinned, his eyes filled with twisted pleasure. "I shall make a masterpiece of it, Muzan-sama. I promise—"
"Do not promise me. Do it," Muzan cut him off, her voice like a lash, red lips curving in faint amusement. "Your reward will be... my blood." Her tone was both commanding and sensual, each word seeping into the demons' very core. "Drink it, and you will grow even more powerful. Fail me, and you'll receive far worse than a simple punishment."
Even Hantengu, cold and brooding as he was, shivered slightly. Muzan's promise was more than alluring; it was hypnotic, a promise laced with seduction and menace. Her pale, perfect face turned, her gaze landing on each of them in turn. Her presence filled the room, suffocating and enthralling. No one in that chamber could resist her; her beauty was lethal, her command absolute.
"Now go," she said softly, her tone a quiet storm, "and do not return until the task is complete."
Meanwhile, in the Swordsmith Village…
Tanjiro and Bell stepped into the village's main square, greeted by the Village Chief, an elderly, stooped figure with hands gnarled from years of forging. He smiled warmly, bowing slightly to them.
"Welcome, brave demon slayers," the elder said. "I understand your journey was long. Please, you must relax and recuperate. This village owes you a debt of gratitude."
Both slayers returned his bow with respect, grateful for the peaceful atmosphere. The chief gestured towards the nearby hot springs, adding, "Our springs will revive you, I promise."
With a nod of thanks, they headed toward the steamy onsen, only to be met by a familiar figure—Mitsuri Kanroji, who looked every bit as vibrant as the village itself. She had just emerged from the springs, her cheeks flushed from the heat, and upon seeing them, her face lit up.
She hurried toward them, her expression a mixture of excitement and an odd dismay. "Oh, Bell! Tanjiro! I'm so glad you're here! You won't believe it though, while I was in the springs and enjoying the hot waters,a mean guy completely ignored me earlier." She sighed, rubbing her arms as if feeling the sting of rejection. "Am I... not appealing enough?"
Bell chuckled and took a step closer, meeting her gaze with warmth. "Not appealing enough? Mitsuri, you're as radiant as the sun," he said smoothly, flashing a smile. "Any man who ignores you clearly has no taste." He leaned in, giving her an encouraging look. "Why don't we have a meal together tonight? Forget that guy."
The compliment seemed to have exactly the effect he intended; Mitsuri's face turned bright pink, a mix of surprise and joy. "Really? I'd love that, Bell!" she said, her voice shy but eager.
Tanjiro, stifling a grin, waved as the two headed off toward a nearby restaurant. With an approving nod, he took his leave and made his way to the hot springs, knowing a well-earned rest awaited him.
As night fell, Mitsuri and Bell settled in for dinner at a cozy inn overlooking the village. The soft glow of lanterns cast warm shadows over them as they ate, each bite a chance to exchange smiles and glances. Mitsuri's initial nervousness faded under Bell's easy charm, and she relaxed, laughing and chatting freely. For the first time in a long while, she felt seen and appreciated beyond her title as a Hashira.
Bell, noticing her blush deepen whenever he complimented her, leaned in closer. "You know, Mitsuri, anyone would be lucky to spend time with you. You deserve to be treated like a queen."
Her cheeks flared with renewed color, and she gave a small, shy laugh. "Thank you, Bell… you've really made me feel special tonight." After a pause, she seemed to gather her courage and mentioned, "I heard rumors about a weapon—one hidden within the mountains. They say it's a powerful relic, one that could turn the tide in a fight."
Bell's eyes glinted with interest, a smirk crossing his lips. "A powerful weapon, huh? Sounds like something I should check out tomorrow." As they stepped out into the cool night, he leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, murmuring, "Goodnight, Mitsuri. Thank you for this beautiful dinner tonight."
Her hand touched the spot on her cheek where his lips had brushed, and her heart pounded, a beaming smile breaking across her face as she watched him walk away.