Chapter 20: Are You Worthy?
"Kokushibo…"
Akira murmured, "Lord Muzan, I don't question your judgment. But I believe the ranking of the Upper Moons is flawed. The Twelve Kizuki is your personal army—shouldn't it be composed only of the strongest? Otherwise, how can it inspire fear and respect?"
Muzan's eyes narrowed. "Akira, are you suggesting you should challenge Kokushibo?"
The implication in Akira's words was clear. Muzan, of course, understood immediately.
"Yes," Akira replied calmly. "Since we have the Twelve Kizuki, let strength determine our positions."
"Hmph… Very well. If that's what you desire, I'll grant it."
Muzan typically loathed infighting among her demons. To her, they were merely tools, and when they destroyed each other, it was a waste of her assets. But Akira and Kokushibo were different. Muzan tolerated more from capable subordinates—especially ones who could help her shoulder burdens. Their loyalty and power gave her more patience than usual.
And truth be told, she was also curious.
Although Akira was a demon she personally created and therefore under her absolute control, even she didn't fully understand his true strength.
This duel would be the perfect opportunity.
Muzan turned her gaze to the side. The screen was drawn back, revealing a man seated with an air of indifference.
He had six fearsome eyes on his face, a katana resting before him. His expression was utterly calm, like a man untouched by worldly concerns.
Kokushibo, the former Demon Slayer swordsman. Elder brother to Tsugikuni Yoriichi. A relic of another era.
The moment Akira saw him, his expression shifted slightly.
"Kokushibo," Muzan said. "Did you hear Akira's challenge?"
"I understand. When does it begin?"
Kokushibo's voice was low and emotionless.
Muzan turned to Akira. His ambition burned clearly now—he was not one to wait.
"Then let it begin now."
The chosen battleground was a desolate mountain—abandoned by humans, haunted by beasts. A perfect place for demons to settle things.
Muzan stood between them. "The outcome will be decided by me. Or, if one of you yields before that, the duel ends. Understood?"
"Yes," they replied in unison.
"Begin."
---
Neither Akira nor Kokushibo moved right away.
"It's been a long time, Uncle Master," Akira said, his eyes turbulent beneath his calm surface. "You betrayed the Demon Slayer Corps. You assassinated Ubuyashiki. Why didn't you finish the job and eliminate all the Hashira?"
Kokushibo remained silent. He couldn't grasp where Akira was going with this.
"I have nothing to do with the affairs of humans anymore."
"That's a convenient excuse."
Akira's voice was cold. "If I had been the first to become a demon, the Corps would've hunted me down instantly."
Kokushibo narrowed all six eyes, focusing on him.
"You don't deserve your rank," Akira said quietly.
He reached for the crow perched on his shoulder. Its beak opened—and from its belly, a sword handle emerged.
Akira grasped the hilt and slowly drew a long, terrifying blade from the crow's body.
The katana's entire blade was a deep, ominous red. Jagged, living spikes ran along its edge—twisting, pulsing, as if they had minds of their own. The weapon breathed hatred.
For the first time, Kokushibo's gaze shifted to the blade. A gust of wind tore through the mountains, tossing his long black hair like waves.
But even the storm couldn't compete with what came next.
"Crow Breathing: Blood Crow - Mirror Petal Dance."
Akira's quiet incantation seemed to halt time.
A crimson burst exploded before Kokushibo's eyes. Countless blood-red crows surged forth, blotting out the sky, flapping their wings in unison. Light vanished. Vision failed. Even with six eyes, Kokushibo saw only red.
A storm of wings and rage swallowed him whole.
But Kokushibo reacted. Muscles coiled, sword raised.
"Moon Breathing, First Form: Dark Moon – Evening Palace!"
Two monsters—both once human swordsmen, now demons—clashed with blades, not Blood Demon Arts.
The clash split the sky. Red crows scattered in every direction. Yet Kokushibo's face held no emotion. No hate. No joy. Only stillness.
"Moon Breathing, Second Form: Pearl Flower Moongaze!"
Twin slashes flew at Akira. Countless tiny crescent blades spiraled around the strikes—each one chaotic and unpredictable. That was the essence of Moon Breathing: a flurry of erratic cuts that overwhelmed opponents with precision and disarray.
It was the perfect counter to Akira's Blood Crows.
But Akira didn't dodge.
He stood firm, allowing the crescent blades to strike him head-on.
Muzan frowned.
Demons had monstrous regeneration. But unless the sun rose, neither Akira nor Kokushibo could truly kill the other. That's why she would decide the outcome herself. The duel would not last until dawn.
Yet Akira's strange choice unsettled her.
Why wasn't he fighting back?
What Muzan didn't know was—Akira had planned this.
Kokushibo… once Tsugikuni Michikatsu. Elder brother of Yoriichi. Akira's former master. The one he once revered.
But it was Kokushibo who killed Ubuyashiki. That act had triggered a chain of tragedies. Akira's lover, Akito, had died in the aftermath. Everything that mattered was lost.
Over the years, Akira's hatred had evolved.
He no longer hated Kokushibo for his betrayal. No—he despised him for his failure.
Why stop at Ubuyashiki? Why leave the other Hashira alive?
If Kokushibo had killed them all, Akito might have lived.
That failure cost Akira everything.
And yet this man still stood at the top.
"You're not worthy."