It's 1915, and the Demon Slayer Corps is attempting it's biggest operation yet. Giyuu Tomioka is hell bent on killing Muzan, as he is now the leader of the corps. However, as Giyuu continues his hunt for Muzan, men from different states, customs fro...
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(Just in case this chapter gets confusing)
The demons stood beneath the looming presence of the mansion, their eyes glittering with a fiery intensity. Whether that intensity had manifested from their lust for revenge, or just their simple nature of death and destruction had mattered not to Giyuu. To him, there was only one thing that mattered at the moment.
Survival.
His slayers, all one hundred and fifty of them, had been strategically separated and spread out across each floor of the mansion. Fifty on each of the the floors, the fourth floor laid bare as there was no tactical advantage from it. Their blades were drawn, ready to take down whatever creature would dare cross through the front, although they didn't rush out the mansion. Why would they? The mansion was their advantage, and leaving their only line of defense would mean suicide. Ironically, Giyuu had started to consider dying in the battlefield, an honorable end to a man like him.
No! Giyuu thought to himself. I can't give up now! The lives of Shinobu, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Nezuko, and every single slayer is in my hands!
It had been quite a long time since the demons had engaged. Now they were all just standing there, the bonfire's light blazing at the side. The bodies that have been left over were still laying in the courtyard, unattended to. With the demons standing above them, eerily waiting, it made quite a depressing sight. But nevertheless, the demons were not attacking. Yet.
Giyuu stood atop one of the mansion's balconies -Coincidentally, the one Zenitsu and Nezuko had been on- that jutted out the second floor. The cool nighttime wind was a small comfort that barely calmed his nerves, but Giyuu appreciated it anyway. He had learned from many years of experience that a warrior with a sound mind would forever usurp the warrior with a chaotic mind. Taking a deep breath, he analyzed the demons. As he expected, their faces were monstrous and unforgiving, as if it was taking them all of their strength not to lash out and attack. This meant that there was someone in charge, commanding them to hold back.
You have the ball, Muzan. Giyuu thought. Make the play.
As if to respond to that thought, a demon emerged from the trees. It was a young boy of normal stature, his hair black and spiky, though not nearly as long as Giyuu's. The demons in front of him parted as he advanced closer towards the mansion. It was hard to make out, but Giyuu could barely see a dark symbol etched in the boy's turquoise eyes.
4...
Giyuu's eyes widened. How could he have not anticipated this? When the slayers had killed both Douma and Akaza, it was inevitable that the lower ranks would have taken their places. But he had never seen this boy before. Where could he have come from?
He started to notice more things. On the boy's back hung a Nichirin blade, swinging behind him as he stepped forward. He bore an eerie, almost excited grin. It was as if he had been anticipating this moment for a long time.
