Kyojuro Rengoku and his father, Shinjuro, stood side by side in the flickering light of the Infinity Castle's twisted corridors. Opposite them stood two newly risen Upper Moons: a towering man with a scarred face, jittering with anticipation, and a woman with coiling tendrils of black hair that swayed like living serpents. Their presence exuded malice, suffocating the air around them.
The scarred man spoke first, his voice gravelly but filled with unbridled excitement. "Rengoku. I've heard of you—both of you. A family of Hashira. How quaint. Killing you will be... so satisfying." He grinned, shadows writhing at his feet like eager hounds.
The woman tilted her head, her eerie smile widening. "Oh, but don't take it personally. It's just our nature to destroy... And your kind is so fragile, so fun to break." Her voice dripped with mockery, her tendrils curling and uncurling lazily as though she was toying with her prey.
Kyojuro tightened his grip on his katana, the familiar weight of it grounding him. "Fragile? Perhaps. But we stand firm, no matter how many times we're struck. That's the human spirit."
Shinjuro snorted, stepping forward. "Less talking, more fighting. You Demons love your arrogance, but it's all bark. Time to put you down."
With a roar, father and son launched into battle.
Father fights like a storm—wild and overwhelming. I need to complement him, strike with precision and cover his blind spots. Together, we'll burn them to ash.
The boy's grown strong. I'll never say it out loud, but he's surpassed me. Still, I'm not going to let him have all the glory. Kanae, I hope you're watching—these bastards will pay for what they've done to us.
Kyojuro's flaming blade clashed with the scarred man's shadowy appendages, the flames crackling as they burned through the darkness. Shinjuro took on the woman, her hallucinatory mists swirling around him. She giggled as Shinjuro stumbled momentarily, but his fiery aura flared, burning away her illusions.
"You'll need more than cheap tricks to take me down!" Shinjuro bellowed, his strikes growing fiercer.
Shinobu, Giyuu, and Kanao arrived in a grand chamber filled with shattered ice sculptures and the unmistakable scent of blood. Sitting atop a throne of frozen corpses was Douma, his pale face illuminated by the eerie glow of his warfans.
"Ah, my lovely guests have arrived," Douma chimed, his tone light and cheerful. "I've been so lonely without anyone to entertain me. Won't you join me for a little... game?" He gestured at the frozen bodies around him. "They didn't last very long, but I'm sure you'll do better."
Shinobu's brow twitched, her usual calm demeanor cracking slightly. "You really are vile, aren't you?" She stepped forward, her blade gleaming. "Kanae's death will not go unanswered."
Douma's smile faltered momentarily, his eyes narrowing. "Oh, Kanae? She was delightful. Sweet and strong. Such a shame she wasn't strong enough. But you, Shinobu... You're such a tiny thing. Are you sure you want to do this?"
Kanao's grip on her blade tightened, her gaze icy. Mistress Shinobu... I won't let you fight him alone.
Giyuu remained silent, his expression unreadable. Douma... You represent everything we stand against. I'll cut you down, no matter what.
Douma's playful tone vanished, and his warfans unfurled with a sharp metallic clang. "Let's see if you can back up all that hatred. Shall we dance?"
Bell, Gyomei, and Tanjiro landed in a vast, dark chamber, the oppressive air heavy with foreboding. Before them stood Kokushibo, the Upper Moon One, his six golden eyes scanning them with dispassionate focus.
Bell stepped forward, raising a hand to halt his companions. "Spread out. Muzan's goons are everywhere. We need to take out as many as possible."
Gyomei frowned, his grip tightening on his chained weapon. "Are you certain you can handle this alone, Bell?"
"Yeah," Bell said, his voice calm but laced with excitement. "I've been waiting for a real fight. This guy? He'll do just fine."
Tanjiro hesitated but nodded, his trust in Bell absolute. "We'll come back for you."
As Gyomei and Tanjiro disappeared into the labyrinth, Kokushibo tilted his head, studying Bell. "Sun Breathing... You wield it well for one so young. But do you truly believe you can defeat me?"
Bell's grin was wolfish, his blade igniting with golden flames. "Defeat you? Nah. I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart."
The battle began with an explosion of energy, Bell's blazing strikes meeting Kokushibo's intricate Moon Breathing forms.
This is it. A real challenge. Let's see if the so-called strongest Upper Moon can keep up.
Elsewhere, Zenitsu sprinted through the castle, a bolt of golden lightning. His ears rang with a familiar sound—the voice of betrayal.
Kaigaku.
Memories of his master's death flooded Zenitsu's mind, rage and sorrow clashing within him. He betrayed us. He betrayed Gramps. And now... now he has to pay.
Kaigaku's mocking laughter echoed through the corridors. "Zenitsu, my old friend! I was wondering when you'd show up. Ready to lose again?"
Zenitsu didn't respond. His face was a mask of calm determination as he unsheathed his blade. Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash.
Muichiro, Mitsuri, Obanai, Tengen, Sanemi, Genya, and Inosuke arrived in a grand hall where Nakime sat serenely, her biwa resting on her lap.
"Welcome," she said softly. "Shall we begin?"
The room twisted violently, walls shifting and folding as her Blood Demon Art transformed the space into an endless maze.
We've got this. Together, we're unstoppable. No matter how many tricks she has, love will conquer all!
I'll carve through this damn maze and her along with it. No Demon can outlast me.
As the Slayers fought to close the distance, Nakime plucked her biwa, sending massive spikes and crushing walls their way. But determination burned in their hearts—this was their final stand, and nothing would stop them.