"ORAAGH!!"
Moroha's roar was a primal thing, ripping through the gale-force winds atop the mountain. Behind her, the massive, spectral shade of the Great Dog Demon loomed, its phantom blade descending in a vertical arc toward Muzan's head.
"HMPH!!"
Muzan didn't retreat. He transformed his forearms into massive, chitinous bludgeons, raising them to meet the spectral strike head-on.
BOOM!!
The impact was cataclysmic. Muzan's feet were driven deep into the shattered stone, the bedrock beneath him spider-webbing from the sudden, overwhelming pressure.
"Such power!!" Muzan shouted, his voice strained but exultant. "But this energy... it belongs to ME now!"
He hadn't stopped the strike; he had allowed it to catch him. The spectral blade had carved through his shoulder, burying itself deep into his chest cavity. But as the iron bit into his flesh, the Dragon-Man scales rippling across his skin began to glow with a sickly, iridescent light.
Muzan began to drain the energy directly from the source.
SWOOSH!
SHING!
Two blurs of movement closed in from the left and right, their blades flashing in the chaos. Muzan didn't even turn his head.
"Pointless persistence," he sneered. "You're exactly like that pathetic Demon Slayer Corps back in my world."
"You follow me with single-minded obsession, ignoring the reality that you cannot kill me."
"Humanity's greatest flaw is that idiotic stubbornness... regardless of the world you're born into."
He ignored the two Servants entirely. He maintained his focus on the spectral blade in his chest, allowing Akame and Rikuo's swords to slam into the open wound Moroha had created.
CLACK.
The blades didn't sink. It was as if they had struck a solid wall of obsidian nested within the youth's torso. There wasn't a single drop of blood; there wasn't even a scratch.
'Is even his internal tissue reinforced?' Rikuo thought, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He was running low on mana, and the reality of their situation was settling in. He had never encountered a defense so thorough, so layered.
Beside him, Akame shoved her blade forward with all her strength, her jaw set. If she could just draw a single drop of blood, [Murasame]'s curse would end this nightmare. But the final "step" to her goal felt like a mile out of reach.
"Tch!"
"Maintain the pressure, Moroha!"
Moroha had been about to pull back, sensing her energy being siphoned away, but Kikyo's voice cut through the air like a whip.
The girl didn't know what her mother and Aunt Kagome were planning, but she chose to trust them blindly. She leaned into the strike, pouring every ounce of her inherited power into the spectral blade.
"Hmm?"
Muzan noticed the two priestesses in the distance. They were standing side-by-side, their bows drawn in perfect unison.
As a Demon-Youkai, he lacked a natural resistance to spiritual energy. He couldn't simply ignore a purifying blast of that magnitude. But he was in no position to manifest another barrier.
If he could just finish absorbing this gargantuan reservoir of demonic energy from the girl, he would reach a state of absolute divinity. He wouldn't let such an opportunity slip through his fingers.
Muzan rippled his internal tissue, forcing his biological armor to thicken around his chest. He would take the hit. As long as the two Servants were kept at bay, he was safe.
"HAA!!"
A sudden blur of movement from Inuyasha caught him off guard. The half-demon lunged forward, not with his sword, but with his bare hands, seizing the protruding chitinous growths on Muzan's back and pinning him in place.
'Hmph. You'll suffer a flesh wound at most,' Muzan thought. 'A small price for the power I'm about to take.'
As long as he wasn't struck by one of those cursed blades held by the Assassin or the Rider, he could regenerate from anything the others threw at him. This entire group was merely spinning their wheels.
'Please... it has to work...'
Kagome adjusted her aim, her eyes darting from Muzan to an object spinning through the air from above.
"What?"
It was only then that Muzan heard it--a faint, rhythmic whistling sound.
Something was falling.
He glanced upward, spotting a worn, rusted katana tumbling through the air toward the battlefield.
'That's...?'
He looked at Inuyasha's empty hands. He didn't understand. Why would the half-demon throw his only weapon away?
"It's a bit late for second-guessing, isn't it?"
Rikuo spoke up, his blade still locked against Muzan's flank. He was pouring what remained of his ice-demon energy into the wound, acting as a beacon.
"Hmph. That pathetic frost of yours is less annoying than a fly," Muzan grunted, ignoring the ice.
ZZZT!!
A sharp, static discharge of energy made his hair stand on end.
He looked up just as a figure caught the falling sword mid-air.
Sesshomaru landed in a low crouch, his hand gripping the hilt of the weathered blade. In an instant, the rusted iron transformed into a massive fangs-sword that hummed with a violent, unrestrained power.
The [Tessaiga].
'That bastard!'
Muzan realized what had happened. Inuyasha had handed his birthright to the one person capable of wielding it with absolute efficiency.
Sesshomaru's palm began to smoke, the barrier on the [Tessaiga]'s hilt rejecting his demonic aura, but he didn't even flinch. He swung the massive blade in a horizontal sweep, its edge slamming into the crack in Muzan's shoulder.
CRACK!!
Unlike the Servants' blades, the [Tessaiga] bit deep. It carved a wound the length of a man's middle finger into Muzan's "invincible" flesh.
"What?!" Muzan shrieked. He couldn't believe his defense had been breached so easily.
But he quickly forced himself to remain calm. It was just a single cut from the [Tessaiga]. He could heal it in seconds.
His smug expression didn't last. Sesshomaru's eyes were cold as ice, and he made no move to use the [Wind Scar] or the [Adamant Barrage]. Instead, he focused every drop of his own volcanic demon energy into the blade itself.
"[Soryuha]!!"
A massive, cerulean dragon of energy erupted from the point of contact, surging directly into the open wound in Muzan's shoulder.
"Nngh!"
"Are you insane?!"
Muzan's voice was a mix of shock and twisted glee.
His body was a masterpiece designed by Toshu, specifically crafted to absorb and integrate the energy of his enemies. He didn't just drain energy from one point; his entire body acted as a sink, a vessel built to consume all.
By pouring his energy directly into the wound, Sesshomaru was essentially feeding him.
He assumed it was a fatal mistake--a desperate final gamble that had failed. But as the energy continued to pour in, his confusion returned.
'He can see me absorbing it... yet he isn't stopping. He's increasing the output...'
Muzan looked at Sesshomaru, but the Great Demon showed no emotion. He continued the flow of the [Soryuha], his eyes boring into Muzan's as if he were looking at a piece of hollow glass.
"Hey! Sesshomaru!"
Inuyasha shouted as he saw his brother's hand blackening from the [Tessaiga]'s rejection. The blade was never meant for full youkai; it was a weapon of protection, and it was punishing Sesshomaru for every second he held it.
"..."
Sesshomaru didn't answer. He didn't care about the pain. He simply maintained the pressure.
"Hahaha..."
The sheer volume of the power was intoxicating. Muzan felt more powerful than he ever had in his entire multi-century existence.
CRACK.
"...!?"
Suddenly, a massive jet of demonic energy erupted from a fissure in Muzan's back.
"I see!"
"Then eat until you burst, you bastard!!"
Moroha hadn't pulled back her spectral blade. Seeing the overload, she understood her uncle's intent and abandoned all caution, dumping the entirety of her reservoir into the boy.
"Nngh...!!"
Muzan's face twisted in agony. He could feel his internal organs being crushed under the weight of the energy he was consuming. His body was a container, yes--but every container has a limit.
"What staggering demonic energy..."
Rikuo and Akame retreated as the aura began to warp the very space around them.
The volume of power being poured forth was the mark of a Great Demon--a level of strength Rikuo had only ever witnessed in his own grandfather.
Muzan tried to sever the connection, to escape the torrent of energy that was now threatening to dissolve him from the inside out, but Sesshomaru's voice anchored him to the spot, cold and heavy as a tombstone.
"You are a pitiful container."
"How could a piece of filth like you ever hope to hold the pride of our clan?!"
K-BAAAAAM!!!
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]