“Blade Prison: Molten Blade Flame!”

  With a resounding clang, the rust-colored wings on Kawagishi’s back unfurled, emanating an aura of cold steel and martial lethality. Soon thereafter, deep gray flames erupted along those same rust-colored wings. At Kawagishi’s command of his will, the wings quivered ever so slightly, and bursts of flame detached themselves, lashing onto the Nichirin Blade.

  Within the depths of the gray fire, the entire blade of the Nichirin Blade began to twist and dissolve continuously, gradually weakening. It seemed that this flame possessed a peculiar ability—it was exceedingly effective at melting metal.

  Kawagishi reached out and touched it, yet felt no heat. It appeared that the Molten Blade Flame of Blade Prison could only affect weapons and was not intended as a direct offensive technique.

  “This isn’t logical at all…” he murmured.

  “Capable of melting even the toughest metal, yet unable to harm a human—how absurd.”

  “Well, when demons themselves exist, what is there truly to be scientific about?”

  Since his transformation into a demon, Kawagishi’s worldview had been constantly challenged and reshaped.

  “Begin!”

  After nearly half an hour of melting, the Nichirin Blade had turned into a glob of liquid roughly the size of a clenched fist.

  At that moment, Kawagishi again focused his will and activated the second aspect of Blade Prison’s power.

  “Blade Prison: Forge Blade!”

  In his mind’s eye, a massive axe, about 1.7 meters in length, gradually materialized from thin air. A 1.7-meter axe was nothing short of a giant battle-axe—the most brutal and ferocious axe that Kawagishi could wield.

  Yet it appeared somewhat ethereal at first, not entirely real.

  Under Kawagishi’s mental control, the metallic liquid that had been the transformed Nichirin Blade slowly spread over the newly formed axe, especially covering the axe head with a layer of liquid tamahagane.

  Moments later, the giant axe solidified completely, shedding its illusory quality to become a tangible weapon.

  This axe was undeniably a weapon of slaughter—it exuded an aura of overwhelming dominance, enough to send a chill down any onlooker’s spine. The cold, hard gray metal of the axe’s shaft culminated at its tip in a razor-sharp axe head with dual blades along its sides.

  On the left side, a curved blade with a broad edge promised to easily sever a demon’s head.

  On the right side, a straight blade set at a 45-degree angle to the shaft, its inner edge sharpened and ending with a small curve, was designed to hook onto a demon’s neck and cleave it apart.

  Moreover, both the tip and the tail of the axe’s shaft were fitted with glistening, cold-edged blades.

  “Perfect—this is exactly the kind of weapon I desire,” Kawagishi murmured.

  “The Nichirin Blade pales in comparison,” he thought, already envisioning how he would use this axe to sever Muzan Kibutsuji’s head…

  “Bang!”

  Suddenly, Kawagishi clutched the axe’s shaft with both hands, raised it high, and brought it down with a mighty swing. The curved axe head plunged into the ground, shaking it with a tremendous impact.

  Satisfied as he weighed the massive axe in his hand, Kawagishi felt a surge of joy.

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  The only shortcoming was that the axe felt somewhat light.

  Though it looked enormous and imposing, it had been formed solely by the condensation of a single Nichirin Blade through Blade Prison. Even with the augmentation of Blade Prison, it remained rather light—so light that for a demon’s might, it felt almost insubstantial.

  “Not the best feel… but once I find more Nichirin Blades, I can continue to reinforce it,” he mused.

  “Someday, Muzan Kibutsuji—I will split you apart, flesh and bone!”

  Kawagishi played with his new weapon like a child with a new toy, practicing tirelessly. This axe was forged to his heart’s desire; aside from its insufficient weight, every aspect pleased him immensely.

  Yet, something still felt missing…

  “It can’t be that I simply refer to it as an axe—I must give it a proper name.”

  Kawagishi struggled; naming had always been his weak point.

  “Your predecessor was a Nichirin Blade—so why not call you a ‘Nichirin Axe’?”

  “Nichirin Axe, Nichirin Axe… Nichirin… Axe?”

  The Nichirin Blade was so elegant—a symbol of power and grace—yet ‘Nichirin Axe’ sounded too crude.

  Then, suddenly, a spark of inspiration burst within him:

  “Black Cutter—the Black Cutter!”

  Kawagishi’s eyes lit up as he imagined it. The name evoked depth and strength, with a splendid meaning: a cutter of darkness, a slasher of demons.

  “Black Cutter, to cut through darkness, to sever demons.”

  “Thank you, Black Wolf Fang, for your gift.”

  “Received!”

  The Black Cutter was massive—so large that it was cumbersome to wield compared to a Nichirin Blade. However, thanks to the spatial dimension provided by Blade Prison, Kawagishi no longer had to carry it physically.

  The Black Cutter transformed into a surge of blood-red energy that flowed into Kawagishi’s rust-colored wings. He could feel it lying silently within the Blade Prison space, awaiting his summons—ready to join him in decapitating demons.

  Retracting his rust-colored wings, Kawagishi lifted his head.

  “It’s time to leave…”

  “Shinobu Kocho, I wonder if we shall ever meet again—hopefully, by then, we won’t be enemies.”

  Those eyes of Shinobu Kocho had left an indelible impression on Kawagishi, one he would never forget.

  ……

  Akaza stood atop a sturdy Chinese fir outside Shiqiao Town, his gaze fixed on the quiet town beneath the night sky, his brows gently furrowing.

  Being the fastest among them, Akaza had reached Shiqiao Town a while ago. Yet he had not made a move—instead, he remained perched in the tree, watching the silent town, waiting calmly. Meanwhile, the other four demons were still on their way here, and it wouldn’t be long before they arrived.

  “Weaklings… mere ants that can be crushed with a single squeeze. I have no desire to strike them down; bullying the weak yields nothing,” Akaza mused.

  “But the master’s orders must be obeyed,” one subordinate muttered.

  “Still, clashing with the Demon Slayer Corps is far more interesting,” Akaza continued.

  Akaza revered strength—he was awed by Muzan Kibutsuji’s might—but while he admired the strong, he despised the weak and refused to battle those he considered feeble. What he craved was combat against worthy opponents to hone his skills, to continuously gain new power and become ever stronger. Becoming stronger was his obsession.

  Moreover, despite being a demon, Akaza never killed or devoured women—this was his principle, one he boldly defended even before Muzan Kibutsuji. After all, Muzan is ruthlessly severe with any demon who defies him.

  A mysterious gleam flashed in Akaza’s golden pupils as he decided not to intervene himself; instead, he entrusted the destruction of the town to the four other demons. “Leave these weaklings to you,” he commanded.

  Although the four were not particularly impressive, they were dedicated to killing. They could easily wipe out an entire town of common folk—especially since that deformed demon known as Wuguo, a centennial aberration, had a body so tough that Akaza could feel it through the impact of a single punch.

  “They four should handle it well. When it comes to slaughter, these ordinary townsfolk might not even provide enough challenge,” he observed.

  “However, I’ve instructed them not to harm any women. I wonder if they’ll comply—after all, I lack the restraint of our master…”

  Akaza’s worry was not that the task might fail, but that some demon might disobey his orders and slay the town’s women.

  “You’d best not make me angry…” he warned ominously.