"No matter how powerful someone is, the human heart is fragile."
"As long as you grasp the weakness of the heart, people are nothing to fear."
Inside the train, the grotesque hand bearing the character for "dream" on its back spoke lightly.
Yuko lay slanted against a nearby seat, her head tilted to the side. The sword hilt hung limply in her hand, the blade resting on the floor.
This woman's terrifying mental strength had indeed exceeded his expectations, but the weakness of the heart was something that could never truly be repaired.
Even though she had nearly completely resisted his Blood Demon Art, with the blood bestowed by Lord Muzan—and with his ability to perceive the weaknesses of the heart—just a single moment of disorientation was enough.
In the end, humans were simply that fragile.
The children Yuko had knocked aside slowly climbed back up from both sides. One girl clutched a sharp implement, gritting her teeth as she approached Yuko.
Another crouched down, attempting to take the Nichirin Blade from her hand.
The hand barked sharply,
"Idiots, stop!"
Everyone froze, their bodies trembling.
"I'm sorry, I just—"
The hand said coldly,
"This woman is beyond your ability. Go destroy the spiritual cores of the others."
"If you do that, I'll let you have pleasant dreams."
"Yes!"
At those words, smiles bloomed across their faces.
After they left, the hand turned its attention back to the sleeping Yuko.
"This woman is troublesome…"
Her mental strength was on a completely different level from other Demon Slayers.
Even a child approaching without any killing intent would likely wake her.
But if she were left like this, her powerful mental resistance meant she would awaken sooner rather than later.
There was no choice—he would have to act personally.
Though it would divert energy from his main body and slow the train's fusion, he couldn't be at ease unless she was dealt with.
Fortunately, her heart was not as strong as her mental power. Just looking at her, one could feel the sorrow spilling from her—it was contagious.
Someone like this had a heart as fragile as glass.
By devoting more energy, he might deceive her sharp perception.
Without direct contact, Enmu could still move freely through the target's dream.
The Blood Demon Art activated, and a thin thread of demonic energy seeped out.
Yuko's long eyelashes fluttered slightly, but she did not stir.
Good. It worked.
...
"Amazing, Yuko! I'm no match for you at all."
Michikatsu, who had been knocked flat on the ground by Yuko, looked disheveled but smiled brightly.
Yuko reached out, pulled him to his feet, and smiled back.
"It wasn't that bad. Elder brother just isn't used to the breathing style I use yet."
"With more practice, you'll be fine."
A voice called out nearby,
"Yuko, come help me take a look—why won't my Thirteenth Form connect properly?"
"Coming."
Outside the courtyard, a young man wearing a black coat and white-lined trousers—his pupils marked with the character for "Lower"—watched everything with a smile.
"Good. Just like this—keep having such happy dreams."
Enmu's lips curled into a sinister grin as he turned and moved farther away.
Yuko suddenly seemed to sense something and turned her head. Beyond the courtyard, a bamboo grove had appeared, and it looked as though a figure had vanished into it.
How strange…
Was there a bamboo forest outside our courtyard before?
Something feels off…
Yoriichi stepped forward, concern in his voice.
"Yuko? Why are you spacing out again?"
Yuko frowned slightly and shook her head.
"It's nothing. It just feels… feels strange."
Michikatsu joined them.
"What feels strange?"
Yuko hesitated.
"It just feels… too happy…"
Father, mother, and elder brother were all too gentle—so gentle that it felt unreal.
Father should have been strict. Michikatsu should have been competitive, full of jealousy…
Michikatsu laughed softly.
"What are you talking about? Isn't happiness a good thing?"
"Is it?"
"Of course it is. The most wonderful thing in the world is for a family to live together happily."
"I suppose so…"
...
After confirming that Yuko had fully sunk into her beautiful dream, Enmu felt considerably more at ease.
Once he found her spiritual core, this Demon Slayer would be rendered useless—killing her would be easy then.
Enmu could sense the location of the spiritual core. He only needed to pass through this bamboo grove—
Suddenly, as Enmu casually glanced toward the forest, his pupils shrank violently, as though he had seen something utterly incomprehensible. The smile on his face collapsed instantly.
A young man dressed in pitch-black robes stood within the grove, a faintly confident smile on his face. At his side stood a beautiful attendant.
"Lord Muzan…"
Enmu almost instinctively dropped to his knees, bowing his head deeply.
What is going on?
Why is Lord Muzan here?
Kibutsuji Muzan spoke, a faint smile on his lips.
"I've lost interest in swordsmen who use Breathing Techniques."
That voice—there was no mistake!
Enmu shuddered violently. Why was Lord Muzan here?
Wasn't this supposed to be that woman's dream?
What in the world is happening?
A voice filled with killing intent rang out from behind.
"Kibutsuji Muzan, your end has come."
Who?!
Who would dare speak to Lord Muzan like that?!
Enmu turned around and saw two towering figures—one red, one purple—faces carved with strange markings.
They were the brats who had been with that woman earlier…
Before Enmu could think further, Muzan's arm transformed into a whip-like mass and lashed out toward them.
The two split left and right, their gazes locked firmly on their enemy.
"Sun Breathing…"
"Moon Breathing…"
Dense slashes of red and purple severed all of Kibutsuji Muzan's tendrils.
As the two swordsmen advanced, Enmu—standing between them—experienced the very terror Muzan had once faced.
A single thought flashed through his mind:
"What do you think life is?"
Enmu's expression nearly collapsed. The overwhelming pressure descended upon him like the sky itself, crushing him until he could barely breathe.
Fortunately, he was not their target.
The immense pressure vanished the moment they passed him. Enmu turned back in horror.
The red figure had already closed the distance, executing sword forms too fast to perceive. In an instant, Muzan was decapitated, forced to drag his severed head with a torn arm.
Facing the combined assault of the two swordsmen, Kibutsuji Muzan had almost no chance to fight back. He immediately exploded into thousands of flesh fragments, attempting to escape.
The red swordsman instinctively swung his blade, instantly cutting down one thousand five hundred pieces.
As the remaining fragments tried to flee, he shouted,
"Brother!"
"Moon Breathing—"
The purple swordsman swung his violet blade, countless crescent-shaped slashes tearing through the air and shredding the remaining three hundred fragments into nothing.
Enmu's eyes trembled violently.
What kind of beautiful dream is this woman having?!
She actually dares to—
—do this to Lord Muzan…
At this moment, in the front section of the train—
Several children sat upright in the narrow aisle. Before them, a grotesque human hand lay palm-down on the floor. The back of the hand was split open, a mouth growing from it, and the characters for "dream" were written across the hand and fingers.
The ugly hand spoke through its mouth:
"Listen carefully. If you want to have pleasant dreams, then do exactly as I tell you later."
Just as the children were about to respond, a terrified voice suddenly rang out behind them.
"Wait, miss! You can't go any further!"
The voice trembled, as if gripped by fear.
Yuko ignored the conductor's attempt to stop her, pushed open the carriage door, swept her gaze across the panicked children, and locked onto the strange human hand on the floor.
A clone?
Seeing there was no stopping her, the conductor collapsed to his knees in despair, his voice shaking as he spoke to the hand.
"I'm terribly sorry. I tried my best to stop her, but she's carrying a sword…"
"Please—no matter what—don't take away my chance to see my wife and daughter."
The hand replied lightly, generously,
"Don't worry. I'm quite reasonable."
"You've done well enough."
The conductor sagged in relief, murmuring numbly,
"Thank you… thank you…"
Yuko frowned slightly, her right hand resting on the hilt of her Nichirin Blade as she walked toward the hand.
The hand jerked upright, its mouth aiming straight at Yuko.
"Now then—go to asleep."
A strange ripple spread outward from its mouth, an invisible wave surging straight toward Yuko's face.
Yuko paused mid-step. Her body merely swayed slightly before she continued forward.
"How is this possible?"
The hand gaped in disbelief, unable to comprehend why its Blood Demon Art had failed.
"Go to asleep!"
It retreated as waves continued to radiate from its mouth.
"Go to asleep!"
Wave after wave crashed against Yuko's mind, yet she didn't slow down even a single step.
Shing—
The sound of a blade sliding along the inside of its scabbard rang through the carriage like a death knell.
"Damn it!" the hand shouted in frustration.
"You! Stop her!"
"If you don't, I won't let you have good dreams anymore!"
At those words, the children—who had stepped back in fear as Yuko slowly drew her blade—gritted their teeth and rushed forward, trying to tackle her to the ground.
Their strength was clearly insufficient.
Even so, they clenched their teeth, forced down their fear, and grabbed onto Yuko, blocking her in the aisle.
They're being controlled?
Yuko scanned them, only to find their eyes clear and lucid, without a trace of confusion or dullness.
These children were fully conscious.
Combined with what the demon had just said, Yuko quickly pieced together the situation.
She casually knocked out the conductor who rushed up from behind, her expression tightening.
"Idiots! No matter how beautiful a dream is, it's still fake. People have to face reality."
A little girl looked up at her with tears in her eyes and shouted,
"What do you know?!"
"How could someone like you ever understand our pain?!"
This won't work. I can't reason with them.
Yuko's brows knit tightly as she looked up at the hand ahead, her pupils contracting slightly.
Taking advantage of Yuko being held back, the hand had somehow leapt high into the air.
It was right in front of her.
The mouth on the back of the hand opened wide.
"Blood Demon Art: Whispers of Ordained Unconscious Mesmerism!"
"Go to asleep!"
A wave several times stronger than before exploded outward, shaking the air itself as it surged toward Yuko's face.
Yuko's clear eyes instantly went unfocused. The powerful impact even forced her head slightly backward.
Seeing Yuko's stiffened body, the hand landed on a nearby table.
"Well now… what terrifying mental strength."
"To be able to resist…"
"Ah!"
The children clinging to Yuko suddenly cried out in shock.
Yuko shoved them away with her left hand, while her right hand raised the Nichirin Blade high overhead.
"Impossible!"
The hand gaped, utterly unable to understand what was happening.
Yuko had no intention of wasting time on a mere clone. Like a streak of black light, her pitch-black blade slashed down toward the hand.
Just as the blade came within inches—about to split it in two—a childish voice sounded behind her without any warning at all.
"Wait, Yuko!"
Who?!
Yuko's heart suddenly tightened, her pulse spiking.
At the same time, a faint pulling force tugged at her from behind. She instinctively turned her head.
Her crimson eyes shrank sharply as her entire body froze in place.
A child dressed in black-and-white training clothes stood in the train aisle, frowning slightly as he tugged at the hem of her clothing.
Forgotten memories burst forth like a spring.
Michi… katsu…
Had she been hit? When?
In a daze, the brightly lit carriage vanished in an instant. Only the child before her emitted a faint glow as the surroundings twisted and warped.
At some point, her line of sight had lowered to the child's level.
At some point, the crisp chirping of birds reached her ears.
Yuko came back to her senses and looked around—she was now standing in a wide courtyard.
Michikatsu, still a child, patted her on the shoulder.
"Yuko, what are you spacing out for?"
"Yoriichi is ready," he said, pointing behind her.
Yoriichi?
Yuko turned around to see a child with a strange mark on his forehead, standing opposite her with a bamboo sword in hand.
When he saw her look over, a small smile curved his lips.
"Yuko, be careful. I'm coming."
Before Yuko could make sense of the situation, Yoriichi rushed at her with the bamboo sword.
Instinctively, Yuko swung her own bamboo sword to block. The swords touched and separated instantly as Yoriichi twisted his body, changing his angle of attack.
Yuko stepped back half a pace, pressed down with her wrist, and in a single motion knocked Yoriichi's bamboo sword flying.
Yoriichi rubbed his wrist and smiled.
"Yuko, you're amazing."
Michikatsu hurried over from behind and patted her shoulder.
"Of course she is. Yuko is our little sister."
"So amazing, Yuko. You defeated me—and even Yoriichi couldn't beat you."
Yuko's expression turned complicated.
This is… my dream?
Seeing the two of them again filled Yuko with complex emotions. Of course, what she couldn't deny was that she felt more happiness than anything else at seeing them again.
Even Michikatsu—who would later become a demon—elicited not a shred of hatred from her heart at this moment.
But…
What is this nonsense?
Yoriichi had been incredibly fast—faster than adults who had trained in martial arts for years. Back then, she would never have been able to defeat him.
Yet just now, she had beaten him with ease.
And Michikatsu would never have been so magnanimous as to praise her like that.
He would've turned sour with jealousy.
Most importantly—who the hell is slandering her?
She never had any obsession with competing or proving herself, okay?
This dream made it seem like she desperately wanted to punch Yoriichi and kick Michikatsu.
Is that reasonable?
It's pure slander!
At the end of the day, this wasn't even a dream she wanted to have.
Yuko's expression darkened further and further…
Suddenly, a gentle voice rang out.
"Everyone, come over and have something to eat."
Yuko stiffened, her breathing quickening slightly as she turned her head rigidly.
A woman dressed in an elegant kimono sat at the edge of the corridor, smiling at them.
Yuko's crimson dual pupils slowly merged.
"Akeno…"
Michikatsu flicked her forehead affectionately.
"Idiot. You should call her Mother."
---
Currently at chapter 519 for advance chapters
https:// ko-fi.com/rabi08
[email protected]/Rabi08