Chapter 230: The Abyss Between Them

Sweat soaked the brows of the four Hashira.

Under such pressure, even Sanemi—who usually hurled himself furiously into the attack the moment he laid eyes on a demon—began, in that instant, to think up a strategy.

"Obanai," Sanemi said in a very low voice, "I’ll take the front, and you cover me with a surprise attack. Let’s take Muzan down together!"

Obanai didn’t answer. His throat was clenched so tight the words wouldn’t come out.

"Muichiro, Mitsuri," Sanemi continued, "you two circle around from behind—focus on Gyokko and Hantengu."

Muichiro nodded, while Mitsuri swallowed hard. "Got it."

Sanemi raised his katana, leveling it at Muzan. His arm trembled—not out of fear, but because the blood was rushing through him so fast it seemed ready to burst from his skin.

"Everyone, this battle—"

Bang!

A sudden gunshot cut Sanemi’s speech short. The sound rang out from behind the four of them.

The one responsible for that first shot was none other than Sanemi’s younger brother!

Genya stood on a rooftop twenty paces away, gripping his shotgun tightly, the barrel still smoking.

Muzan glanced down at his shoulder.

A bullet was pushed out of his flesh.

Then he looked up and gave Genya a sinister smile—Genya, who had fired on instinct, overwhelmed by the sheer pressure.

"Open fire!" With no time left, Sanemi was the first to charge.

Obanai slashed in from the left, bending his blade in a way that slipped past Muzan’s line of sight to stab at the back of his neck from a blind spot.

Muichiro and Mitsuri peeled off the battlefield to either side, throwing themselves at Gyokko and Hantengu.

Muzan didn’t move...

His whips moved on their own.

Four tips crossed in front of him, forming a net. Sanemi’s blade struck against them, throwing off sparks, but the force of the rebound left his hand numb.

Two more whips slammed into the spine of Obanai’s katana before he could finish his cut. The blade was crushed nearly to the ground, and the impact of his knees shattered the tiles beneath his feet.

In an instant, Muzan neutralized both of their assaults. And not only that—he kept enough strength in reserve to fire off two quick strikes at each of them, driving them back.

As for Muichiro and Mitsuri, who were supposed to steer clear of Muzan, they too were caught off guard by several of his whips that suddenly shot out from the sides.

With their advance cut off, they had no choice but to defend, ending up right back where they’d started.

In a single exchange, the Hashira’s attacks had been neutralized.

Eight more whips had sprouted along the sides of Muzan’s legs.

Compared to the ten thicker ones on his back and lower spine, these were longer and more flexible...

Eighteen whips in all made him look like a tentacled monster.

From start to finish, Muzan’s hand never left his cane.

The skin between Sanemi’s thumb and index finger split, and blood ran down the grip of his katana.

As the lead attacker, in that single instant he’d taken the brunt of at least six whips.

Now, with his hand torn open, his grip on the sword was unsteady.

The others kept their eyes wide.

"Is this..." Mitsuri swallowed with difficulty, "...is this Muzan?"

"He’s far stronger than I imagined..." Muichiro’s voice was as flat as ever, but his breathing had turned ragged.

Muzan lowered his head to readjust the angle of his hat, lightly brushing off a nonexistent speck of dust.

"Is that all you’ve got?"

Sanemi wiped his hand against his clothes to clear off the blood and gripped his katana again.

His pupils darted around, searching for some opening on Muzan’s body.

But there wasn’t one... THERE WASN’T A SINGLE ONE!

The arrangement of Muzan’s eighteen whips seemed calculated with precision. It was impossible to find even the slightest gap to attack.

This was Muzan’s true strength.

Even when Tamayo’s drug had aged him nine thousand years... leaving him at the very edge of total annihilation, Muzan proved that the gap between him and everyone else was an abyss.

Without sunlight, even if they had weakened him further and every Hashira had attacked together at the peak of their strength... he would have wiped out the Demon Slayer Corps without a trace.

How were they even supposed to fight now?

"Hold!" Sanemi gritted his teeth. "Hold out until reinforcements arrive—hold out until dawn!"

Mitsuri stared at him, mouth open. "Dawn is... still eight hours away..."

At her reminder, silence enveloped them.

They tightened their grips on their katanas.

"Call him..." Obanai said reluctantly.

"Will it even do any good?" Muichiro murmured in a grim voice. "This isn’t Yoshiwara. Besides, Muzan wants to isolate him."

"If Marcus falls into his hands, then..." Mitsuri bit her lip.

Sanemi stared hard at Muzan, teeth clenched. He didn’t want it to come to this.

But Swordsmith Village could not fall!

"Mitsuri! Call him!"

She hesitated for half a second before putting her hands behind her back and quickly making several gestures with her fingers.

The signs were for Genya, who was trembling behind them.

’Demon Hashira, back mountain, requesting support!’

Genya froze, took in the situation, and lowoked at his brother. Sanemi would never call for reinforcements lightly.

Genya didn’t hesitate—he spun around and broke into a run!

Muzan saw it all with perfect clarity.

Even though they’d spoken in murmurs, he immediately guessed the intent of the shotgun boy. A satisfied smile curved at the corner of his lips.

’Follow that boy and find Marcus.’ His voice echoed in the minds of Gyokko and Hantengu.

Gyokko shuddered and answered submissively as his vase sank into the earth.

Beside him, Hantengu began to stammer. "Mu... Muzan..."

Before he could finish, a look of disgust appeared on Muzan’s face, and four whips coiled around Hantengu’s limbs.

"Ehh?!"

Before the panicked screams and stunned stares of the Hashira... the whips expanded violently, tearing Hantengu into five pieces.

Each piece began to writhe, growing limbs and heads. But Muzan wasn’t satisfied. Before they could react, the whips fused them back together.

The next second...

A young man with five small drums on his back, identical to Hantengu in his youth, emerged: Zohakuten.

Unlike the original, this young man showed no fear at all.

Gripping two curved daggers tightly, he struck a drum.

!

A wooden dragon surged up from the earth, swallowed it, and dove back into the ground.

Only then did Muzan tilt his head with satisfaction and look at the group.

"Now we can have some fun."

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