"Little mouse?"
Tamayo froze at Shuya's words. Her first thought was that Yushiro had been spotted. She stood alone in front of the mansion, welcoming Shuya and Mitsuri, but a quiet unease had been gnawing at her for days.
Especially after the crow message from the current head of the Demon Slayer Corps. She didn't know why this man who claimed he could rival Yoriichi Tsugikuni wanted to meet her. She didn't believe anyone in this world could match that monster from four hundred years ago.
No one had back then. No one did now. And no one ever would.
Only she had seen the fight between Yoriichi and Muzan with her own eyes. She knew exactly how terrifying that man had been. Still, after weighing her options, she had agreed to this meeting. The Corps leader vouched for Shuya's strength, so she assumed he was at least Hashira level. She had prepared accordingly—setting the meeting at night in case things went wrong, and having Yushiro hide them both with his Blood Demon Art if needed.
When she heard Shuya speak, her first instinct was that he had found Yushiro.
"Lord Shuya, please wait! He's—"
Before she could finish, a soft sobbing sound echoed through the air. A small, hunched old man appeared, covering his face with both hands as he cried.
Tamayo's eyes widened. She hadn't sensed him at all. If Shuya hadn't spoken, she might never have noticed him.
"Yushiro?!"
A green-haired man materialized nearby, standing protectively in front of Tamayo. He clutched a paper charm marked with an eye symbol, glaring at the crying old man.
"You planning to fight him yourselves?" Shuya asked, releasing Mitsuri from his arms. He looked at Tamayo with a faint smile. "I don't mind, but can you two actually beat an Upper Rank demon?"
Yushiro was strong in his own way, but nowhere near Twelve Kizuki level. His real value was his Blood Demon Art—perfect support abilities like invisibility and shared vision. Shuya had his eye on that power too, but getting it through Equivalent Exchange would be difficult. Yushiro wasn't driven by hatred for Muzan. He had become a demon to survive his illness and now lived only to serve Tamayo. Without offering Tamayo herself in trade, Shuya didn't see an easy path.
"Upper Rank?" Tamayo's hand flew to her mouth. She stared at the hunched figure and finally noticed the characters etched into his eyes through the gaps in his fingers.
Upper Rank Four.
Upper Moons were monsters. Since Yoriichi's death, none had been killed by the Corps outside of internal rank battles. Each one had slaughtered double-digit numbers of Hashira. Tamayo knew this better than anyone.
She finally understood where her unease had been coming from.
Yushiro stepped forward. "Lady Tamayo, I'll hold him off as long as I can. You need to run!"
"It's useless," Tamayo said, shaking her head. Yushiro wouldn't last more than a few seconds against an Upper Rank.
She turned to Shuya. "Let's work together. Yushiro and I have support-type abilities. We can assist you."
That was the best plan she could think of—drag the fight until sunrise and use the sun to force the demon back.
"Team up? No need," Shuya said casually. "It's just one little rat. Perfect timing, actually. I'll use him to show you what I can do."
Tamayo's chest tightened. Exactly what she had feared. This man was so arrogant he thought he could handle an Upper Rank alone. He didn't even consider cooperating.
"Lord Shuya, you may not understand how strong the Twelve Kizuki are, but—"
"Doesn't matter. I'll handle it."
Shuya waved her off and turned his full attention to the crying demon. They had been talking for a minute or two, yet Hantengu still hadn't attacked. He just kept sobbing with his face covered.
What a scheming bastard. He wanted someone else to strike first so he could split, play the victim, and accuse them of bullying the weak. Classic move.
Shuya wasn't falling for it.
He raised his hand. Pieces of scarlet iron sand flew out from his pockets and gathered in the air. Instead of forming a Nichirin Blade, they shaped into a long, blood-red chain.
The chain slithered toward Hantengu like a living snake and wrapped around his entire body. The demon didn't resist.
Tamayo stared in shock. "He's bound?"
"Not quite," Shuya said, shaking his head. He hadn't even started putting real power into it yet. He was only using basic Manipulation to shape the metal.
Hantengu's lack of resistance told him everything. The demon was arrogant despite his cowardly appearance.
Shuya yanked the chain. It tightened violently around Hantengu's body. Crimson flames ignited along the links like blooming lotuses.
"Red Blade?!"
Tamayo's eyes went wide. The aura felt exactly like the technique Yoriichi had used against Muzan centuries ago.
If Shuya could use something like this, maybe his confidence wasn't completely baseless. Still, many swordsmen had wielded Red Blades during the Sengoku period. Only Yoriichi had ever truly threatened Muzan.
At least this meant they might be able to stall until dawn.
Shuya let the flames burn just long enough to make Hantengu scream in agony. When he extinguished them, the demon's body was already regenerating, but the pain remained.
Hantengu looked at Shuya with genuine fear in his eyes.
Shuya could have burned him to ash. He chose not to. He needed the demon's Blood Demon Art intact.
He walked over and kicked Hantengu hard. "You can split into stronger clones, right? Why aren't you using them?"
"Or does your ability only work after your body gets cut apart?"
"Fine. I'll help you with that."
The chains around Hantengu's limbs pulled tight.
"AAAGH!"
All four of his limbs were severed at once and dropped to the ground. Tamayo frowned slightly at the brutality, but she felt no sympathy for an Upper Rank.
The severed limbs began to swell and reshape. Moments later, four younger versions of Hantengu stood there, each holding a different weapon and bearing the Upper Rank mark in their eyes.
One of them—the embodiment of anger—stepped forward, staff raised.
"Let him go!"