"Damn it!"
"You two bastards! I'm going to kill you!"
In an open wilderness clearing, two figures clashed in a deadly dance of violence. The night air crackled with tension as their battle raged on, each strike carrying lethal intent.
One of them roared with unbridled fury, his voice echoing across the desolate landscape.
The other figure wielded a blood-red sickle with supernatural grace; its blade cut through the darkness, carving intricate patterns of destruction. Light and shadow intertwined into a storm of razor-sharp, spiderweb-like projectiles, each carrying enough force to cleave stone.
Akaza and Gyutaro!
Muzan had dispatched them with a singular mission: locate the elusive Oboro. However, their quarry proved to be frustratingly difficult to pin down, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands. To get results quickly, the most efficient strategy was to capture Gyutaro first.
This demon seemed to have a significant connection to Oboro that could be exploited.
Gyutaro had spent years hunting the Twelve Demon Moons, leaving a trail of demon corpses in his wake. Even Gyokko, who had once held the prestigious rank of Upper Six, had fallen to this relentless hunter. The demon was practically obsessed with eliminating upper-rank demons, which made their job laughably simple. They didn't need to waste time searching for him; all they had to do was reveal themselves, and Gyutaro would inevitably come straight to them.
But Akaza had never anticipated finding himself in this humiliating predicament!
He was fighting Gyutaro and Daki simultaneously—two against one—in a battle that should have been beneath his dignity.
His earlier furious shout hadn't been directed at the brother-and-sister duo before him but at Kokushibo and Doma, who were lurking in the shadows like cowardly spectators instead of joining the fight.
Akaza could sense their presence nearby; their demon aura was unmistakable to his heightened senses.
This was completely different from their original agreement, and it made his blood boil with indignation.
Akaza despised the idea of others interfering in his battles, considering such assistance a grave insult to his martial prowess, yet he was supremely confident in his abilities. He could handle Gyutaro in single combat without breaking a sweat.
However, this mission came directly from Muzan, and failure wasn't an option. Fighting Gyutaro alone would have been manageable, but Daki's presence complicated everything exponentially. While Daki's attacks couldn't seriously harm him, they distracted him, disrupting his focus and creating openings for Gyutaro to exploit.
Even more troubling, Gyutaro proved to be far more formidable than Akaza had initially anticipated.
Akaza's fist shot forward at superhuman speed, shattering the crimson projectile streaking toward his face. The impact sent shockwaves through the air, dispersing the bloody fragments like deadly confetti.
"Kehehe."
Gyutaro leaped high into the air above Akaza, his disturbing laughter echoing through the night as his arm, wielding a sickle, became a blur of motion. He was utilizing his Blood Demon Art to its fullest potential, launching his blood sickles in a devastating long-range assault.
This technique allowed him to turn his blood into razor-sharp projectiles that could slice through almost anything. There was no need for direct physical contact; he could rain death from above while maintaining a safe distance.
This strategy was particularly effective against Akaza, whose Blood Demon Arts and close-combat fighting style made him nearly unstoppable in hand-to-hand encounters. If Gyutaro had made the mistake of engaging Akaza directly, he might have ended up scattered into pieces.
Therefore, his method of maintaining distance while unleashing a relentless barrage of attacks proved devastatingly effective against the Upper Three demon.
Akaza forced himself to suppress his mounting rage, deliberately ignoring the inexplicable absence of Doma and Kokushibo. He crossed his muscular arms to form a defensive shield and intercepted a potentially fatal flying sickle with practiced precision.
A tangible aura of fighting spirit flowed around his body like liquid armor, shimmering with barely contained power.
The blood projectile exploded against his guard but left no visible wounds. Most of its lethality was absorbed and dispersed by the protective airflow surrounding him.
His Blood Demon Art was essentially a sophisticated martial arts system powered by pure fighting spirit. Rather than relying on flashy transformations or elaborate techniques, it pursued the ultimate expression of combat mastery through relentless refinement.
Even after Muzan injected him with fresh demon blood to enhance his power and strengthen his abilities, Akaza didn't develop entirely new techniques like Doma did. Instead, his existing fighting spirit simply became more concentrated and devastating.
Whoosh!
Akaza spotted an opening and seized it without hesitation.
He lowered his defensive stance, and the earth beneath his feet exploded from the sheer force of his launch. With incredible power, he rocketed straight toward Gyutaro, who was beginning his descent from his aerial position.
Just as Akaza closed the distance to deliver a crushing blow, several razor-sharp silk ribbons lashed out like whips. They cut off his attack route with deadly precision.
Akaza was forced to abort his assault and leap backward to avoid being shredded.
The ribbons struck the ground where he had been standing with tremendous force, sending dirt and debris flying in all directions.
With a cold, contemptuous expression and eyes full of disdain, Daki positioned herself protectively beside Gyutaro, glaring at Akaza with undisguised mockery.
"Put away your pathetic delusions and laughable techniques," she sneered, her voice dripping with condescension. "Being killed by us is the only destiny that awaits you."
The woman's cruel laughter rang out across the battlefield.
This taunt made the veins on Akaza's forehead bulge with barely controlled fury. How dare such a weakling mock him! It was beyond insulting!
Early in the fight, he had recognized that, compared to Gyutaro, this woman was pathetically weak, hardly worth his attention under normal circumstances. However, Gyutaro fiercely protected his sister, thwarting every attempt Akaza made to eliminate the easier target first.
Gyutaro's Blood Demon Art was well-suited to counter Akaza's aggressive fighting style. Worse yet, Gyutaro could unleash it with devastating frequency.
The aerial slashing technique required significant amounts of blood to power each swing while maintaining lethal force. This type of Blood Demon Art was clearly a self-consuming ability that should have quickly exhausted its user. Yet, even after this extended battle, Gyutaro showed no signs of fatigue or diminished power.
Akaza took a deep breath, finally recognizing the true nature of his opponent's skill: "His footwork and movement techniques are incredibly sophisticated."
Throughout the fight, Akaza had managed to close the distance to Gyutaro several times, fully confident in his ability to end the battle with decisive strikes. But even under the influence of his Blood Demon Art, "Destructive Death: Compass Needle," which should have made evasion nearly impossible, Gyutaro not only survived but also continued to effectively counterattack.
He did so through body movement and footwork that seemed almost supernatural in their precision.
Gyutaro's fighting tactics were undeniably skillful, but they weren't based on any martial arts system Akaza recognized. Instead, they possessed a raw, instinctive quality, like a wild animal that had learned to fight out of necessity for survival.
"Do you really think you can defeat us with that pathetic expression?" Gyutaro asked, his voice filled with manic glee. He pressed one hand against his scarred cheek, his fingernails digging into the flesh.
"As long as my sister and I fight together, we are absolutely invincible."
"You're really starting to irritate me. Why are you so confident?"
Where exactly do you get this sense of superiority?"
I want to destroy you completely, not just devour you like the others. You're such an eyesore that it makes me sick."
Gyutaro's voice took on a distinctly unhinged quality as he spoke; his mental state was clearly deteriorating into something dangerous and unpredictable.
After delivering his disturbing monologue, he immediately returned to his previous assault pattern.
With the same twisted smile stretching across his face, he began wildly and seemingly randomly swinging his sickles. Within mere seconds, countless dense blood blades erupted from his weapons, forming a storm of crimson death that tore toward Akaza with overwhelming force.
"Destructive Death: Air Type!"
Akaza's eyes sharpened with deadly focus, and the fighting spirit surrounding his body pulsed with renewed intensity.
In response, he unleashed a barrage of fist strikes so rapid that they created multiple afterimages; each punch carried enough force to shatter stone. The frequent slashes were systematically destroyed, exploding into harmless mist upon impact.
While the intense battle raged in the clearing, two figures observed from the shadows beyond the immediate combat zone.
Kokushibo and Doma stood strategically positioned, one slightly ahead of the other. Their forms were concealed by the darkness of the surrounding forest.
Both demons carefully analyzed the fierce conflict unfolding before them, sensing every surge of power and shift in momentum.
Kokushibo remained characteristically silent, his six eyes taking in every detail with calculating precision.
Doma, however, wore his typical cheerful smile as he commented with obvious amusement, "Akaza seems to be having quite a difficult time with this fight."
No wonder Gyutaro was able to kill Gyokko. He's definitely not someone to underestimate. His skill level is exactly what we should have expected from someone associated with Oboro."
Doma glanced sideways at Kokushibo; his words carried subtle implications that hung in the air between them.
"You're thinking the same thing I am, aren't you?"
When Kokushibo continued to ignore him, Doma pressed on without any sign of embarrassment or frustration.
"Tell me, if Lord Muzan and Oboro were to meet in battle, who do you think would emerge victorious?"
Doma leaned closer to Kokushibo, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he posed the dangerous question.
Both demons carried vivid memories of their previous encounters with Oboro, experiences that had left them thoroughly educated in the meaning of true power and utterly defeated.
However, they had never shared the full details of those humiliating encounters with Muzan, only providing the most general information about their failures.
Regardless of what Kokushibo might be thinking, from Doma's perspective, their master didn't truly understand Oboro's full capabilities.
The mere memory of him was enough to make even Doma's perpetual smile falter slightly.