The shattered remains of the Infinity Castle trembled under the weight of Muzan's malevolent aura. His grotesque form loomed over the battlefield, a nightmarish blend of sinew and malice. Around him, the remaining Demon Slayer Corps rallied, their battered ranks forming a crescent of resolve. Each member clutched their Nichirin blades with trembling hands, their faces a mix of terror and defiance.
From a distant perch, the Hashira, Bell, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Kanao, and Shinjuro observed the scene. Their weapons remained sheathed, their eyes sharp as they analyzed Muzan's movements.
One of the braver slayers shouted, raising his sword high. "For humanity! For the fallen!" His rallying cry spurred the others forward, and the air filled with the sound of war cries and the metallic clash of blades.
Muzan watched them approach, his crimson eyes glowing with contempt. "Insects," he hissed. His body shifted grotesquely, the mouths on his limbs snapping and drooling as they prepared to tear through the onslaught. The slayers surged forward, their synchronized attacks aimed at his limbs and head, hoping to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
The first wave of slayers closed in, their blades cutting through the air in a dazzling display of coordinated Breathing techniques. Flames, water, wind, and stone crashed down on Muzan like a tempest.
Muzan moved.
In the blink of an eye, Muzan's grotesque limbs lashed out, their speed and precision impossible to follow. His mouths snapped and tore through the slayers, their blades clanging uselessly against his flesh. One by one, they fell, their bodies flung aside like broken dolls.
From his perch, Bell's crimson eyes narrowed. "He's not just fast—he's unpredictable. His body adapts mid-movement to counter their attacks."
Tanjiro clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "He's not leaving any openings. It's like he can read their minds."
Gyomei, his massive frame still, turned his head slightly toward Bell. "And yet, you hold us back?"
Bell smirked, leaning casually against a fractured column. "Rushing in without understanding his limits would be... boring. Let the fodder test the waters."
Tanjiro flinched at the callous words but said nothing.
Among the chaos, a small group of slayers managed to close the distance, their blades slicing into Muzan's limbs. The demon's flesh hissed and bubbled where the Nichirin steel made contact, but his regeneration was instantaneous. He turned his attention to the attackers, and with a flick of his claws, their efforts were rendered futile.
From above, Mitsuri's voice carried, her usual warmth replaced by cold calculation. "His regeneration... it's faster than any demon we've faced. Even Kokushibo's couldn't keep up with this pace."
Obanai, crouched beside her, hissed, "And he's toying with them. He hasn't even started using his full strength."
Kanao, her violet eyes focused intently, murmured, "If we don't figure out his weaknesses soon, we'll lose everyone before we even begin."
The remaining slayers regrouped, their formations tightening as they prepared another assault. Muzan tilted his head, his crimson eyes narrowing. "You struggle in vain," he said, his voice resonating with a bone-chilling calm. "Allow me to show you the futility of your existence."
He raised an arm, and the mouths lining his flesh expanded grotesquely. From each one, streams of dark, acidic liquid spewed forth, covering the battlefield in a corrosive rain. The slayers screamed as the acid burned through their armor and flesh, their once-coordinated movements dissolving into chaos.
Sanemi growled from the sidelines, his fists clenched. "We're just sitting here while they're getting slaughtered?"
Bell raised a hand, silencing him. "Not yet. Watch closely."
Amid the carnage, a handful of slayers persisted. A woman wielding Thunder Breathing zigzagged through the battlefield, her strikes aiming for Muzan's head. Beside her, a man with Mist Breathing created a veil of obscurity, providing cover for their comrades.
Muzan's eyes flickered with mild irritation as he swatted the mist away with a single sweep of his arm. The Thunder Breather lunged, her blade inches from his neck, but Muzan caught it mid-swing with a clawed hand.
"You amuse me," he said before crushing her blade and tossing her aside like a ragdoll.
Yet even as she fell, another slayer took her place, then another, their relentless determination driving them forward despite the impossible odds.
Back on the perch, Zenitsu's fists trembled as he watched the slaughter. "We're just letting them die," he muttered, his voice cracking. "We should be out there helping them!"
Inosuke, uncharacteristically silent, gripped his blades tightly, his beast-like instincts warring with Bell's command. "When's it our turn?" he growled.
Bell finally stood, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Soon. The more desperate he gets, the more careless he becomes. For now, every move he makes gives us more insight."
Shinjuro, his eyes burning with renewed purpose, added, "And every second they buy brings us closer to victory."
Tanjiro, his jaw set in grim determination, nodded. "Their sacrifices won't be in vain."
As the battle raged on, one of the slayers—a man wielding Sun Breathing—managed to land a strike directly on Muzan's torso. The blade bit deep, and for a fleeting moment, Muzan's regeneration faltered. His crimson eyes widened in shock as a faint sizzling sound emanated from the wound.
From above, Mitsuri gasped. "Did you see that? He hesitated."
Obanai leaned forward, his mismatched eyes narrowing. "That's it. He's not invincible. There's a limit to his regeneration."
Bell's smirk widened. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Muzan roared, his voice shaking the very walls of the Infinity Castle. His grotesque form shifted further, the mouths on his limbs elongating into tentacle-like appendages that lashed out in every direction. The surviving slayers were flung backward, their bodies battered and broken.
As the remaining slayers regrouped once more, their leader—a woman with Wind Breathing—stepped forward, her blade glinting with determination. "We can't give up," she shouted. "If we fall here, humanity falls with us!"
Her words ignited a spark of hope in the others. They raised their blades once more, their battered bodies moving with a renewed sense of purpose.
From the sidelines, Bell clapped slowly, his expression one of mocking approval. "Well, they've got guts, I'll give them that."
Tanjiro, his hands trembling with barely contained anger, glared at Bell. "They're fighting for their lives. For all of our lives."
Bell's smile faded slightly as he turned to Tanjiro. "And they're showing us the cracks in his armor. Remember that."
Muzan's patience had run thin. With a roar of pure rage, he unleashed a wave of dark energy that sent the remaining slayers sprawling. Their formations crumbled, and silence fell over the battlefield.
He turned his gaze toward the observers, his crimson eyes burning with hatred. "Hiding in the shadows won't save you," he hissed. "When I'm done with them, you'll be next."
Bell stepped forward, his smirk returning. "Finally. I was wondering when you'd notice us."
The other Hashira readied their weapons, their bodies tense as they prepared for the next phase of the battle. The air was thick with anticipation as Muzan shifted his focus, his grotesque form exuding an aura of unstoppable power.
The final confrontation was about to begin.