Demon Slayer : The Silent Journey-Chapter 169: The start of the final war

[3rd POV]

(Infinity Castle)

Nakime's biwa echoed softly through the infinite dimension.

Her fingers, slender and lifeless, plucked the strings with eerie precision. The walls of the Infinity Castle shifted and folded with every note, bending reality as if space itself bowed to her will. Dark corridors twisted endlessly, and rooms appeared and disappeared in an eternal cycle of chaos.

Her gaze, cold and detached, remained fixed on the endless void in front of her. Though her lips never moved, her thoughts reached out beyond the boundaries of her domain.

Her single eye with crimson veins saw beyond what was in front of her. They were seeing through the small demon eyeballs that wandered the human world. She was scouting, searching and finding.

Her single eye stilled, and her pupils enlarged to ridiculous proportion. It was truly a horrifying privilege to look at her.

"I have found it," she said at last.

The words reverberated through the dimension, carried by demonic strings of her biwa so that they stretched infinitely.

"The Butterfly Mansion."

There was a hint of relief and joy in her voice. She had been searching long and hard. The Demon Slayers knew how to detect her technique through the warning of Seiji and also, the Butterfly Mansion was hidden by Lady Tamayo and Yushiro.

It had taken her a long time fo find this single location. She had to attach one of her eyes to the empty socket of one injured Demon Slayer to get a glimpse of the Butterfly Mansion.

But after all the work, she had done it. She completed her mission.

A presence came upon her in an instant. There was silence but even in that silence, the weight of Muzan's malice pressed down on the space around her.

It was stronger than before, no, more refined.

"Are you certain?" His voice sounded needlessly cruel even when he asked a simple question.

Indeed, Muzan had grown bitter over the year. How could he not when the damned humans, specifically the purple swordsman wouldn't stop infuriating him.

The mocking message Seiji would send through the defeated demons was a constant reminder of his disgrace.

"Yes," Nakime murmured softly, her fingers plucking another note. "Their sanctuary... where they mend their broken."

A pause.

And then the most malicious grin spread Muzan's face.

It was time for revenge. They would regret ever earning his ire. Muzna was ready to unleash death amongst the lowly humans.

"Summon them."

The command was absolute, a death sentence whispered into existence.

"Summon the Twelve."

Nakime's fingers moved again, but this time the sound was heavier, darker. Portals began to open across dimensions, reaching out through the shadows to touch those whose presence had long remained hidden.

..

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(The Crimson Arena)

The ground was stained red, the colour of blood and flesh. You could see white dots occasionally amid the redness, they were pieces of bones and teeth.

Akaza stood motionless in the centre of a desolate battlefield. The bodies of countless demons littered the ground around him, reduced to nothing more than ash and gore. Broken limbs. Shattered skulls. The stench of blood and rot was thick in the air.

Another Demon Festival had just ended.

"Not one," Akaza muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand, still dripping with blood, clenched tightly.

"Not one of them... was strong enough."

The Demon Festival was the gathering of demons, all those who sought more power. They were thrown into an arena and made to fight Akaza alone. The ones who impressed him enough received more of Muzan's blood to grow even stronger.

But this festival was a total loss.

These new demons, they were all utter disappointments.

"Pathetic." Akaza's eyes narrowed as he looked at the last demon he had killed, its body reduced to steaming ash.

"Lord Muzan told me to find strength... and all I find is weakness." His voice was cold, filled with frustration. "Where are they? Someone... worthy. Someone who can stand... and fight."

"These demons would never survive more power, they are not strong enough to handle it," Akaza said and slicked back his hair.

How long has it been since he had been doing these? Holding these countless festivals to find strong demons worthy enough.

A year perhaps?

*Bing!!*

A soft plucking of a biwa echoed through the windless arena.

Akaza's head lifted. His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a wicked smile as he stared at the distortion in space

"Right, it's been a year,"

..

..

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(Mount Natagumo)

Deep within a forest where moonlight barely touched the ground, Rui sat atop a thick, gnarled tree, surrounded by his family.

His Mother knelt beside him, gently combing his hair with trembling hands. Her body was frail, her face etched with exhaustion and fear, but she never stopped. Her movements were tired but precise.

"Perfect," Rui whispered softly, his voice filled with a chilling serenity.

"You're doing well, Mother." He leaned into her touch, his crimson eyes half-lidded as if lost in a dream.

Below him, his father stood rigid, his monstrous form towering over the other demons. His face was contorted into a mask of forced patience, but his hands trembled with barely restrained violence.

"Father," Rui's voice was calm but firm.

The towering figure flinched, his head lowering immediately.

"Protect the family. Don't fail me again."

"Y-Yes, Rui-sama..." Father's voice rumbled, thick with suppressed rage.

To Rui's right, brother and sister stood, motionless, their expressions blank. Puppets bound by silk, their eyes empty of life.

"We're all... together." Rui's voice held a twisted sense of contentment.

"A perfect family."

The web around them shimmered in the moonlight, stretching far and wide, trapping anything unfortunate enough to stumble into it. Butterflies struggled against the threads, their fragile wings snapping as the silk constricted tighter.

Rui's lips curled into the most innocent smile, almost childlike.

"They always break..." He whispered softly. "But you, Mother... you never break."

His mother flinched but didn't dare stop combing his hair.

And then, the stillness was shattered.

A single note from a biwa echoed through the air.

Rui's head tilted.

"Oh no, my family moment has been disturbed. But it's Lord Muzan so I can't ignore it," he said in a whining tone like a spoiled child.

"Mom, tell him to stop making me do chores," he asked.

"Mom..please,"

The mother trembled harder, stuck between the fear of Muzan and her so-called son.

"So you won't help your own son because of fear huh....what kind of a mother are you?" Rui asked.

The mother's breath hitched before her head was ripped off by a thread. Too fast, too quick, she had no time to even beg.

"I guess I have no choice," Rui said as he walked towards the door on the ground.

..

..

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(Hakone Tozan Railway)

Enmu lounged lazily atop a speeding train, his body stretched across the roof as the wind whipped through his hair.

"Ah... the sound of mortal hearts..." His ears twitched as he listened to the rhythmic thrum of the passengers' dreams below.

"So many... so many dreams."

A twisted grin curled across his lips as his fingers danced in the air, weaving threads of nightmares into their fragile minds.

"What should I show them tonight?"

His voice was almost playful, but there was an edge of cruelty beneath the surface. "A reunion with their dead loved ones? Or perhaps... the fear of never waking up?"

A muffled scream echoed from within the train.

"Ahhh... that's better."

Enmu chuckled softly, his body shifting as he stretched. He marvelled at the amount of control he had, the amount of power flowing through his limbs was unreal.

Indeed, this was what he always dreamed of.

To be so strong.

But then, a chill rippled through the air.

A familiar vibration echoed through his bones, a sound that stirred something deep within him.

The biwa.

Enmu's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.

"Finally..." His voice was barely a whisper. "I was growing bored."

..

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(An abandoned temple)

Hantengu cowered in the shadows of a ruined temple, his frail form quivering as he clutched his knees to his chest.

"They're coming... they're coming..." His voice was a trembling whisper, eyes darting back and forth, searching for unseen enemies. "They'll find me... they'll hurt me..."

His bony fingers clawed at the ground, scratching deep gouges into the dirt as his fear consumed him.

"No... no... I didn't do anything wrong..."

A low growl echoed from inside his body.

"Coward."

Hantengu flinched.

"You whimper like a dog," Sekido's voice, filled with rage, thundered through his mind. "They'll tear us apart if you keep cowering."

Another voice, smooth and calm, spoke softly. Karaku's amusement laced every word.

"Perhaps... but fear makes things so much more delicious, doesn't it?"

Urogi's laughter echoed next, wild and untamed.

"I say... let them come. Let's see who survives."

Hantengu's eyes darted in all directions, his body trembling harder.

"N-No... no more..."

The different personalities inside him. He hated them, they always brought him trouble, and they always made him the target.

It's not him. He was the victim here, always getting the blame from what these people inside him did.

He never committed those crimes, no.

iT wAsn't Him!!

But then, a sound pierced the madness.

The pluck of a biwa.

The voices went silent.

Hantengu's trembling ceased, his eyes wide with terror.

"Nononononononononononononononono..."

But he had to move towards the portal all the same. He never wanted this, he swore, even with the wide grin in his place.

He was a demon who never stopped blaming.

..

..

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(The Tsumago Village)

The ground cracked and sizzled beneath Daiyo's feet.

The air around him shimmered with heat, and the sky above reflected the burning glow of his rage. Molten veins pulsed through his obsidian-like skin, the glow beneath his flesh resembling rivers of lava coursing through a volcanic mountain.

The village below him was a ruin. Houses melted, and the land was scorched beyond recognition. Ash and embers danced in the air, carried by the wind like messengers of death.

"I felt warmth," he said, "But it was fleeting,"

The warmth of love and heat always had similarities in his mind. He had spent years wandering the world, burning things to feel the warmth he had lost long ago.

The living furnace searched for warmth.

He felt them, at times...

"But they never last."

The flames reflected in his eyes dimmed slightly as he tilted his head upward, sensing something...

A pulse.

A familiar vibration echoed through the air.

Nakime.

"Something else to burn?"

..

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(The Gallery of Masks)

Masks.

Countless masks.

They lined the walls of the chamber where Omburo stood, his fingers tracing their carved expressions with a reverence only he understood.

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Each mask was a face he had claimed, a soul devoured and immortalized through his twisted art.

"Which one... which one shall I wear tonight?" His voice echoed as his masks shifted, morphing and distorting with each passing moment.

One mask grinned wickedly. "Joy."

Another sneered. "Rage."

A third wept silently. "Despair."

As he contemplated, the faint vibration of Nakime's call reached him.

Omburo's masks stilled for a moment.

"Ah... the Butterfly Mansion. I will need to wear my best face," A low chuckle escaped his lips, and his mask began to shift faster.

"But there are so many faces to wear."

..

..

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The Twelve Moon demons had gathered together again after one year - the time limit that Muzan had given them to grow their number and power.

It was the gathering of death.

Disaster approaches, hoping to erase the hope of the Demon Slayer Corp.

Their healing place.

The Butterfly Mansion.

It was the start of the final war.

[IMAGE]

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