Thud.
Oboro completely ignored Muzan's roar of bitter resentment. A moment later, the light faded from Muzan's eyes. His body slumped to the ground.
Using the system's abilities, Oboro converted Muzan's bloodline and his Blood Demon Arts into cards, then crushed his very soul into dust with a mere exertion of pressure.
The "Little Tree" — the Will of this world — trembled violently within Oboro's perception. It seemed deeply displeased with his actions.
"Everything you have now was gifted to you by me, a second time over…" Oboro responded through thought alone, gazing at the corpse.
"His greatest value lay in acting as a catalyst to strengthen other seeds. Not in growing alone and absorbing the nourishment meant for others. Do you understand?"
The Little Tree had clearly intended for Muzan to eventually become the ultimate final boss. But in Oboro's view, that path had no meaning for the evolution of this world's power system.
If Oboro were to simply leave things as they were, Muzan, from his perspective, would eventually eliminate all other existing demons, rule supreme, and create a world in his own image.
The problem was, even if Muzan grew that powerful, he would likely still face destruction at the hands of the Demon Slayer Corps. At most, he would merely prolong the conflict.
How was that supposed to drive growth and evolution?
If Muzan had truly won this battle through his own strength alone, it would have proven that both his power and his will had matured sufficiently.
In that case, Oboro wouldn't have minded handing over the reins of this world's future to him.
But previously, Muzan's character had been marked by cowardice and excessive caution. His personal will had been weak.
In such a state, he was absolutely unfit to shoulder the heavy responsibility of elevating the world's overall strength.
Just now, by observing his soul, Oboro had detected that after exhausting his abilities to the limit, Muzan had entertained thoughts of retreating more than once.
Only his fear of Oboro had suppressed those impulses, keeping them hidden.
With such a mindset, even if he had the power to kill either Doma or Gyutaro, his chances of victory would naturally decrease — assuming the Little Tree hadn't secretly intervened to help him.
"His power has grown… but his nature remains largely unchanged," Oboro judged silently.
In this regard, Muzan couldn't even compare to Doma or Kokushibo.
Two Platinum‑Rank cards.
Both originating from Muzan.
One representing his Bloodline, the other his unique Skills.
With a flick of his finger, the two cards vanished.
Oboro then shifted his gaze toward the other battlefield, where the roar of combat never ceased.
Searing slashes and biting frost were tearing everything around them apart. Countless destroyed buildings and debris tumbled down into the abyssal depths beneath the Infinity Castle.
The duel between these two had also reached its climax.
Yet Oboro no longer had the heart to watch. No matter who emerged victorious, this battle would propel them to an entirely new level of existence.
The forces of the Inheritors remained intact; though the first generation was dead, the sects they founded still had chosen successors waiting in the wings, destined to rise sooner or later.
As long as they believed this world was wrong and sick, and as long as the established order held power, the flame of the Inheritors would never be extinguished.
Gyutaro wanted to turn the mortal realm into a living hell.
Doma worshipped Oboro and believed unconditionally in everything Oboro had done to this world…
If he survived, he would most likely mimic Oboro's ways, manipulating events and treating everything as nothing more than a game. In his eyes, humanity was foolish, ridiculous, and utterly disposable.
Therefore… whichever of them won would set the tone for the era to come. Perhaps their raw strength was inferior to Muzan's, but their wills were far stronger.
Someday, perhaps, they too would fall. But until then, new powerful demons would continuously rise to take their place.
"What I have done is for the best. Do not interfere again…" Oboro warned the Little Tree.
"If you continue to guide their destinies according to your own script, the power of this world will grow weak, and eventually, it may vanish entirely. You yourself will degrade… and if the consequences are severe enough, you won't just drop back to being a low‑level world — you risk becoming nothing more than an ordinary, mundane world."
"And do not let the Demon Slayer Corps win," he added sternly.
If the Demon Slayers won, peace would follow. Just like in the original timeline, the arts of breathing, swordsmanship, and demons themselves would eventually disappear from history.
Fortunately, Oboro had already made arrangements to ensure these "powers" seeped deeply into the fabric of society.
Nothing is more complex than the human heart. Wherever there are people, there is conflict.
As long as these powers persist, even if the Demon Slayer Corps dissolves… struggles and strife among humanity will never truly cease.
Conflict remains.
However, Oboro dared not make absolute guarantees. If, in the future, an opportunity arose for the government to restrict and regulate these powers through laws and order, peace would effectively return.
And once conflict diminished, the speed at which abilities evolved and grew would slow drastically.
Unrestricted power and lawless chaos are, and always will be, the most fertile soil for strength to flourish.
After finishing his communication with the Little Tree, Oboro severed the mental link and withdrew his consciousness from the Infinity Castle.
He was gone.
…
Time flew.
In the blink of an eye, decades had passed.
The main storyline had officially begun…
High upon Mount Kumotori, the son of Tanjuro Kamado — the protagonist, Tanjiro — was already making his way down the mountain with a heavy basket on his back, helping his father sell charcoal.
His family had not suffered a demon attack, and Tanjiro had already passed the age when one typically joins the Demon Slayer Corps.
On the side of the Demon Slayer Corps, familiar faces remained alongside many new ones.
Giyu Tomioka, Kyojuro Rengoku, Mitsuri Kanroji, Tengen Uzui, and others were all present.
However, Shinobu Kocho, the future Insect Hashira, was currently merely a attendant to Kanae Kocho, the Flower Hashira, and had not yet risen to the rank of Pillar.
Kanae herself was still alive and well.
Furthermore, there were several new Hashira. Because the Corps had grown vastly in heritage and strength, retired instructors had trained many brilliant talents for the organization.
As a result, the combat strength of the current Corps far exceeded that of the original timeline.
This generation boasted a total of fifteen Hashira.
The leader remained Kagaya Ubuyashiki.
Countless events had deviated from the original course because of Oboro's intervention.
For example, with Muzan's death, the ancient curse plaguing the Ubuyashiki bloodline had vanished completely.
Sensing this change, Kagaya Ubuyashiki knew with absolute certainty that Muzan was dead.
Yet, the calamity of demons still plagued the land.
In fact, things were far worse than when Muzan had been alive.
Standing at the apex of all demonkind now… was that man.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki closed his eyes.
The circumstances surrounding Muzan's death remained a mystery to him.
But looking at the present state of the world, it was almost certainly connected to Gyutaro… though some facts had already become clear to him.
Gyutaro had fallen into utter madness following the death of Daki. For decades, the siblings had been inseparable; their bond was legendary, recorded even in historical texts.
But then, Daki was seemingly killed by Doma — the former Upper Rank Two. That event had changed Gyutaro completely.
Rumors said the two shared a symbiotic existence — that under normal circumstances, it was nearly impossible for Daki to die while Gyutaro lived. This anomaly was likely related to Doma's soul abilities.
Regardless, from that moment onward, combined with the chaos following Muzan's death and the complete loss of control over the Inheritors, the world had undergone a massive upheaval.
Nowadays, Gyutaro's strength defied description. His mind was broken, devoid of all rational thought.
Wherever he appeared, destruction followed. It seemed as if he intended to bring everything to ruin.
He was just one man… yet for decades, the Demon Slayer Corps had been powerless against him. Many Hashira had been devoured by him.
Even the human government had joined forces with the Corps, launching massive, coordinated campaigns to hunt him down — all ending in failure.
But these were merely surface events.
In Kagaya Ubuyashiki's eyes, hidden deep within the shadows behind everything, stood another figure.
A name unknown to the world at large.
Oboro.
Not the widely worshipped deity, Miketake no Kami.
While compiling historical records, Kagaya had realized something crucial.
The sole reason Gyutaro had ever received Oboro's "blessings" was the bond he shared with Daki.
In other words… Oboro had likely foreseen the "disaster" unfolding today long ago. Daki's death might very well have been part of that man's calculations from the start.
Yet Oboro himself had vanished long ago, leaving no trace of his whereabouts.
Sometimes, Kagaya wondered if Oboro had died.
But when he thought about it… even if a man had been dead for decades, the schemes he set in motion and the games he began were still unfolding exactly as he intended.
That thought was terrifying.
Most importantly, Kagaya could not imagine what could possibly cause a being like Oboro to die.
Through generations of accumulated wisdom, the Ubuyashiki family had largely deciphered Oboro's behavioral logic.
He did not seek to plunge the world into chaos or suffering.
His true purpose was to transmit new forms of power, and to force different factions and strengths into collision… turning the entire world into an endless arena of combat.
Only through such struggle could power continue to evolve and endure.
"The Promoter of History."
That was the label Kagaya preferred to give Oboro.
Yet, even understanding his logic, he could never truly grasp Oboro's ultimate goal.
He had never met Oboro, but the Ubuyashiki family kept a portrait of him.
Late at night, Kagaya often found himself gazing deeply into the eyes of the man in the painting.
"The black haori… the black haori… the snowy mountain… the corpse…"
Suddenly, a Kasugai Crow flew frantically into the room, letting out piercing cries.
At the mention of the words "black haori", Kagaya's pupils contracted sharply.
…
Several days later, Kagaya Ubuyashiki led the Demon Slayer Corps' Hashira on foot to the summit of a snow‑capped peak known as Mount Asahi, located in the northernmost reaches of the land.
Upon reaching the summit, the sight before them left everyone stunned.
Leaning against a massive boulder sat a man with his eyes closed, appearing as if he were sleeping peacefully.
He had no breath.
His clothes had long since rotted away, though tattered remnants of black fabric still clung to his frame.
What shocked them most was this: although he had clearly been dead for an incredibly long time, there was not a single wound on his body.
His flesh held no warmth, yet his skin and limbs remained healthy and full, looking almost as if he were merely resting and still alive.
Judging from the condition of his clothing, he must have died ages ago. Even if the body did not decay naturally, it should have withered and shriveled away to nothing by now.
"It's him!"
Before Kagaya could speak, Giyu Tomioka spoke up.
The lineage of the Water Hashira knew the name Oboro better than any other. The legends passed down from their ancestors had never been forgotten.
"Suicide…?" The beautiful Kanae Kocho covered her mouth in shock.
"This is the work of soul abilities, isn't it…" Obanai Iguro smiled coldly.
"This guy sure knew how to run away fast! Even death is so flamboyant! What an arrogant bastard!" Tengen Uzui couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki, however, seemed to realize something profound. He sighed softly.
"He defeated everyone. He was stronger than everyone. Yet, the one thing he could not conquer… was time. To him, this world offered only limited amusement. Once boredom set in, endless monotony made living… far more painful than dying."
"He played with this world as if it were held in the palm of his hand. We never even qualified to stand before him in battle," Giyu Tomioka said, his brows furrowed tight.
His hand clenched into a fist.
…
Meanwhile, in another corner of the world.
In a town reduced to ruins, filled with smoke, flames, and mountains of corpses soaked in blood…
A figure walked aimlessly through the devastation. In his hanging hands, he dragged two long scythes dripping red.
It was Gyutaro.
But now, he resembled nothing more than a walking corpse. His eyes were void of light, and he muttered endlessly to himself.
Suddenly, a dark shadow appeared before him, blocking his path.
Gyutaro lifted his head blankly, mindlessly preparing to kill again.
The newcomer was clearly a demon, and a powerful one at that. Sensing the killing intent radiating from Gyutaro, his face paled instantly, and he spoke hurriedly.
"Mount Kumotori. Your sister is at Mount Kumotori… Ume… she is still alive."
At the sound of that name — Ume — Gyutaro froze completely.
"I'm not lying to you! Her soul has been reincarnated! Her name is Nezuko Kamado now!"
…
Within the formless void of the dimension, the Little Tree — the Will of the World — swayed gently, radiating a distinct sense of joy and satisfaction.
____________________
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