Soul Spores
This was the innate ability of Muzan's soul, one that had manifested long ago.
Unlike Doma, who stripped the souls from living beings to bind and control them, Muzan could merge his soul in the form of pure consciousness into every single cell of his body.
This caused the cells themselves to undergo a fundamental transformation, granting them effects similar to Blood Demon Arts—such as assimilation, transmutation, corrosion, or the consumption of matter.
Even a single cell possessed the capacity to replicate endlessly like spores, capable of rapid division and proliferation in an instant.
As long as his soul remained strong enough, Muzan could transform an entire space into his personal domain.
Within this territory, every substance would be invaded, altered, and overtaken by his Soul Spores in cellular form.
For example, long before Doma and the others had even entered the Infinity Castle, Muzan had already left traces of his blood beneath the surface of the floating platforms.
Contained within that blood were dormant cells that, at his slightest thought, would erupt and divide, turning solid stone into living flesh and tissue.
From this flesh, he could further generate bone, organs, or any other biological structure he desired.
Crrrack…
The mass of flesh that had swallowed Doma writhed violently, as if chewing and digesting its prey.
From the edges of its gaping maw, fluids resembling corrosive stomach acid sprayed outward continuously.
But in the blink of an eye, a layer of white frost spread over the surface, instantly freezing the entire mass into a solid block of ice.
A heavy impact followed, shattering the frozen flesh apart and revealing Doma, now covered in slime and fluids, standing unharmed within.
High above, Muzan remained motionless, his eyes narrowing coldly.
The moment Doma emerged, dozens of floating platforms converged upon him from all directions.
As they drew near, each one warped and reshaped into grotesque, malformed masses of living tissue.
The platform directly above him transformed into a colossal eyeball, staring down unblinkingly and tracking every minute movement he made.
From the two platforms ahead and behind Doma, countless sharp spears of bone shot forth, sweeping toward him like a torrential rain.
Other platforms opened wide, vomiting clouds of thick red mist—poisonous mist.
Floating within that haze were "disease cells," transmuted directly from Muzan's Soul Spores. Even the slightest contact would spell serious trouble for Doma.
But naturally, Doma had his own response.
With a single sweep of his iron fan, snow and wind swirled violently outward.
Massive ice crystals and razor‑sharp blades of cold expanded from his position, freezing every immediate threat in place with the sheer power of his Blood Demon Art.
Yet he failed to neutralize Muzan's attacks completely. Before the cold could reach them, the surface of several fleshy constructs suddenly hardened and became covered in thick, white bone—forming armor‑like plating.
This shell not only insulated them from the cold but also shattered the ice blades crashing against them.
"Your Blood Demon Art… derives from my blood," Muzan said.
Doma was secretly shocked. He knew very well that this same technique had effortlessly annihilated the entire Twelve Kizuki only moments earlier in the physical world.
Suddenly, while Doma was distracted, a dark figure materialized right beside him.
It was Muzan.
Or rather, not his true body. It was merely a single cell that had divided at incredible speed, rapidly growing into a perfect physical replica of Muzan himself.
The clone raised its hand, shaped it into a blade, and drove it straight into the back of Doma's head.
"You dare betray me… did you truly believe I was helpless against you?" the doppelgänger hissed with chilling malice.
Struck by a fatal blow, Doma immediately spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes glazing over in shock.
It felt as if the battle had ended far too soon. The gap in power between him and Muzan was vastly greater than he had ever imagined.
Soul Spores… these microscopic units were invisible to the naked eye. This was precisely where the true horror of Muzan's ability lay: the perfect fusion of soul power and Blood Demon Art.
He had already saturated the air with countless numbers of his cells. Within this space, within this domain, his duplicates could manifest anywhere at will, or transform into any lethal biological weapon. If he so wished, every single cell could become an extension of himself.
The only reason this power was not completely invincible was that his soul was not yet strong enough.
His range of influence was limited, and he could only control a finite number of cells at once.
Furthermore, cells separated from his main body would quickly become inert if not actively transmuted.
Otherwise, Doma, Kokushibo, and all the others would never have been worthy of his attention at all.
Next, Doma's stomach began to swell and bulge, while his limbs twisted and distorted grotesquely.
He had unknowingly inhaled Muzan's cells.
All the attacks he had faced until now had merely been distractions. While Doma fought against visible threats, Muzan's cells had entered his body and were growing larger from within, preparing to tear him apart.
Although Kokushibo had long harbored thoughts of rebellion, he would never have dared to act openly without Doma's constant provocation.
Furthermore, Akaza's tragic end had also been Doma's doing. Muzan knew everything.
Normally, Doma could have used his Blood Demon Art to shift his form and escape danger—just as he had done earlier against the Upper Rank, turning his body into snow and ice.
But Muzan knew him too well. Before Doma could even activate his ability, Muzan had already locked onto his true essence with his soul and struck preemptively.
Moreover, Muzan's spiritual pressure was far stronger than Doma's. Under the crushing weight of that mental force, Doma found it nearly impossible to react or defend himself.
Muzan gave him no chance to catch his breath. His determination to execute Doma was absolute and unmistakable.
"Being killed… by Lord Muzan… isn't such a bad way to go…" Doma laughed haltingly, his voice warping and distorted.
There was no trace of fear of death in his expression; if anything, he seemed almost to be enjoying the moment.
Yet his gaze was fixed high above, upon Oboro, who watched everything unfold from his perch.
"However… before I die… I must do something…"
The words that followed sent a sudden, sharp chill running down Muzan's spine, sounding every alarm bell in his mind.
Within Doma's own Sea of Consciousness, the countless "little spirits" he had collected over the years surged forth all at once.
Using the invading clone cells as a medium, they launched a direct assault upon Muzan's true body.
Instantly, Muzan felt an agonizing pain splitting his skull, his vision turning black.
Doma's soul ability was never just simple "separation."
Blood began to flow from Muzan's eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. His usually cold and composed expression twisted into a mask of pure rage, his eyes bloodshot and wild.
In the blink of an eye, his mental control over his cells was disrupted and severed.
Instead of exploding and dying as intended, Doma seized the opportunity to digest and assimilate Muzan's cells inside his own body.
At the same time, he sealed his own breathing completely.
"Lord Muzan… it seems… your soul ability… cannot truly kill me," Doma said, lifting his head and smiling brightly up at him.
BAM!
Enraged beyond reason, the clone violently tore Doma's head apart.
Yet what scattered outward were not shards of bone or flesh, but a cloud of swirling ice crystals.
Immediately, snow began to fall throughout the Infinity Castle, and the temperature plummeted.
A whirlwind of white mist swept across the space, landing upon the platform where Muzan stood and rapidly building up into a massive, towering form nearly ten meters in height.
Blood Demon Art: Frozen Lotus Buddha.
But the face of the divine statue was none other than Doma's own smiling face.
All around Muzan, pure white ice lotuses bloomed into existence.
Resting upon the petals of every flower was the half‑formed figure of a female spirit—bare‑chested and robed in ice and snow.
In perfect unison, every spirit opened its mouth and exhaled freezing mist and biting frost.
And the colossal Buddha that Doma had manifested reached out with both hands, grasping toward Muzan as if to embrace him in a deadly hug.
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