While Soma stood frozen, staring blankly at the fallen swordsman's corpse, Muzan Kibutsuji and the demons under his command had already begun their massacre of the Demon Slayer Corps swordsmen.
The gap in power was insurmountable. No matter how desperately the swordsmen fought, no matter how hard they pushed themselves, they could not close it.
Even when a Hashira or an ordinary swordsman managed to wound Muzan Kibutsuji with a Nichirin Sword, the injury meant nothing. With his overwhelming regenerative ability, the wound closed almost instantly.
There was no hope of victory.
It was a one-sided slaughter.
A sacrifice without meaning.
In such a situation, even swordsmen with the firmest hearts began to fall into despair.
Gradually, some swordsmen started to flee.
It was not because they feared death. If risking their lives could kill Muzan Kibutsuji, every one of them would gladly do so.
But even if they died, it had no effect. It had no meaning.
It was only a futile waste of their lives.
If things continued like this, who would be willing to throw their life away in a battle that changed nothing?
As the swordsmen fell into panic, Soma bent down and gently closed the wide, unseeing eyes of the swordsman who had died before him. In his mind, the look of expectation in that swordsman's eyes still lingered.
In that instant, it was as if Soma saw the swordsman's past.
He had once had a happy family, only for demons to come in the dead of night. Beneath the scent of blood, the happiness that belonged to him was destroyed. He watched helplessly as the person he cared about most was treated as food by a demon. And so, he joined the Demon Slayer Corps and became a demon slayer.
A scene like this had happened to almost every swordsman of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Nearly every swordsman had once had their own happiness destroyed by demons.
After closing the dead swordsman's eyes, Soma gripped the hilt of his blade and walked forward. As he advanced, the strong flesh of his upper body began to writhe.
Rip!
His shirt tore apart as his muscles swelled. The flesh on his back grew wildly, and eight arms slowly sprouted from his back.
This was an ability he had obtained by devouring the Hand Demon.
He walked to a corner, opened a tightly packed bundle, and pulled out several weapons: a long sword, a massive axe, and a spiked club. Eight arms now held the various weapons behind him as he continued forward.
Soma did not move quickly, yet each step carried him several meters. Though his pace looked unhurried, his speed was astonishing.
...
Bang!
A towering figure crashed to the ground, smashing a large pit into the earth in front of Soma. Broken stones scattered, and dust billowed upward.
When the dust dispersed, Gyomei Himejima's massive body lay on the ground. A clear Demon Slayer Mark had appeared on his forehead. His entire body was covered in wounds, and through some of them, the writhing flesh inside could even be seen.
As the man who had trained his body to the limit among the Demon Slayer Corps, Gyomei Himejima's flesh had already reached the peak of humanity. The strength of his body also gave him astonishing recovery.
But in the end, he could not escape the limits of being human.
He could not compare with a demon.
With the wounds he had suffered now, he could not even stand.
And it was not only the Stone Hashira. Kyojuro Rengoku and Sanemi Shinazugawa were the same. Their bodies were covered in countless wounds.
Gyomei Himejima gritted his teeth, wanting to rise and fight once more, but his injuries gradually robbed him of strength.
I must not fall here. As long as I can live for even one more moment, I must fight until the very end.
Gyomei Himejima struggled to stand, a roar forcing its way from his throat.
But just as he barely rose to his feet, his Mind's Eye sensed a familiar figure beside him.
Or rather, a figure that had once been familiar.
Under Soma's leadership, they had killed Upper Rank Two, Doma, and Upper Rank Six, Gyutaro and Daki, one after another. Because of that, Gyomei Himejima had greatly respected Soma. He had always believed Soma would become his closest battle companion in the future, someone he could trust enough to entrust his back to.
However…
After learning that Soma was a demon, Gyomei Himejima's feelings became complicated.
Gyomei Himejima was not gentle like Kanae Kocho. He had never held the wish to save demons. To him, demons were beings that should be hunted down.
All this time, Gyomei Himejima had believed that as long as he was alive, as long as his heart continued to beat, as long as he still remembered the feeling of his fists striking a demon's body, he would continue hunting demons until the moment his heart stopped.
He had simply never imagined that someone he respected would turn out to be a demon.
He could not believe it.
He did not want to believe it.
But…
This was the truth.
"Step back, Mr. Himejima." Soma spoke calmly.
Through his Mind's Eye, Gyomei Himejima sensed the terrifying form standing before him, and his expression grew complex.
He hated every demon. He liked the feeling of smashing his fists, his spiked flail, into the bodies of those evil demons.
But now, if he were asked to use his fists or his spiked flail against Soma, against this demon before him…
he could no longer treat him the same way he treated other demons.
"I will deal with Muzan. Mr. Himejima, go deal with the other demons. Do not let more swordsmen die at their hands."
Those calm words fell beside Gyomei Himejima's ears.
Gyomei Himejima found it difficult to imagine such words coming from the mouth of a demon.
"You… are truly a demon?"
In the end, Gyomei Himejima could not stop himself from asking.
Soma was completely different from every demon he had ever seen.
Back when the Master accepted Tamayo, Gyomei had found it difficult to accept as well. But he trusted the Master, so he chose to accept it. Even so, deep down, Gyomei Himejima had never trusted any demon. He had hated every last one of them.
But the demon before him seemed truly different.
"As you can see, Mr. Himejima." Soma's voice remained calm.
"Namu Amida Butsu."
Gyomei Himejima did not know what to say. He only pressed his palms together and silently recited the Buddhist prayer.
Soma walked forward, stopping the swordsmen who were trying to throw their lives away against Muzan Kibutsuji. He also called back every swordsman who wanted to sacrifice themselves just to leave even a single wound on Muzan's body.
Soon, the swordsmen who had been clinging to Muzan Kibutsuji like stubborn gum gradually cleared away.
"A Blood Demon Art that increases your arms?"
Muzan Kibutsuji licked his lips as he looked at Soma.
"No matter what, we are both demons. Why must you stand on the other side? Why stand with these lives that are as brief as fireflies?"
Muzan Kibutsuji could not understand.
Humans were such short-lived creatures. Such frail beings.
Was Soma truly going to oppose him for the sake of fragile creatures like that?
Looking at Muzan Kibutsuji before him and feeling the terrifying aura radiating from this demon, Soma knew very well how difficult he would be to deal with. He could not help giving a wry smile.
"This really does not seem like me."
Taking such a great risk and stepping forward like this, facing such a terrifying creature.
He had never been the kind of person to stand up for others. Apart from the few people he cared about, he had never cared much about anyone else's life.
Yet now, he had stepped forward.
And for these demon-hunting swordsmen, no less.
Perhaps even for people who might want to kill him.
It felt foolish.
"It seems… I may be a little too kind."
He mocked himself softly, then quietly looked at Muzan Kibutsuji.
"It feels thankless and exhausting. But now that I have actually stepped forward, it unexpectedly does not feel bad."
He sensed some of the swordsmen's gazes gradually changing.
He felt a few people beginning to trust him again.
To respect him.
In truth, aside from a small handful of people, he did not care that much about the rest.
Even so, it still felt rather good.
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