Demon Slayer: Great Swordmaster System at the Start, My Master is Tsugikuni Chapter 48

With a thud, she knelt on the ground and then shouted loudly.

"No, no, I'm not going!"

Tamayo's voice abruptly stopped.

Her entire body, like a puppet with its strings cut, crashed towards the ground.

With a flash, the Scribe appeared beside Tamayo just in time, steadying her.

Although he was also very curious as to why this had happened, he had already understood a lot from Tamayo's words.

Tamayo's behavior just now was like an employee refusing their superior out of disgust.

And there was only one person who could give orders to demons.

Kibutsuji Muzan had issued a certain command to demons indiscriminately.

The scope and depth of this command were so wide and profound that it even affected Tamayo.

It seemed he needed to find a suitable time to completely free Tamayo from Muzan's control.

After helping Tamayo onto the bed, the Scribe sat by the bedside, quietly contemplating.

For the past sixty years, due to his pursuit, Muzan had not had much time to recover from his injuries.

As a result, his control over Tamayo had reached a negligible level.

Yet, even at this level, this command had caused Tamayo to react as she had.

Muzan, what kind of major move are you planning?

Glancing at the moon outside, the Scribe touched the Nichirin Blade resting on his lap.

No matter what scheme Muzan was up to, he would use Sun Breathing and the Nichirin Blade in his hand to shatter it all.

While the Scribe was pondering Muzan's thoughts, in a distant mountain, Muzan slowly opened his eyes.

"Master, is it over?"

Kokushibo, who was on guard duty, asked as Muzan woke up.

Nodding, Muzan indicated that he had issued the command.

He stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes.

Even though there was no one in front of him, Muzan still spoke coldly.

"Has the Demon Slayer Corps' base been confirmed?"

As soon as the words fell, the ground trembled, and a large hole appeared two meters in front of Muzan.

A strangely shaped demon emerged from the hole.

This demon had claws on its arms, strong and powerful thighs, and a short tail behind it.

Its eye sockets were sunken, and the area around its eyes was black, as if it hadn't slept for years.

The demon looked like a groundhog.

After emerging, the groundhog demon bowed to Muzan and Kokushibo, then grinned.

"Of course, I've found it."

Nodding, Muzan seemed satisfied with the groundhog demon's efficiency.

"Very good, Rat-Earth, you will be responsible for leading the way."

With that, Muzan waved his hand, signaling the other party to withdraw.

Lowering its head, Rat-Earth turned and dug a hole to leave.

After Rat-Earth left, the excitement on Muzan's face could no longer be suppressed.

Kokushibo, standing beside him, also excitedly ran his fingers along the Demon Blade at his waist.

Since Yoriichi brought Breathing Techniques to the Demon Slayer Corps, the demons' range of activity had been greatly restricted over the decades.

And now, the most important base of the demon slayers had been found by them.

How could they not be excited about such a great opportunity to capture them all in one fell swoop?

What Muzan had just done was to use his ability as the Progenitor of Demons to gather a large number of demons to serve as combat power.

Before long, strange sounds could be heard from the sky, the ground, and even the depths of the earth.

As the sounds grew closer, pairs of scarlet eyes emerged from the darkness.

The demons, who would normally fight each other for food, now acted like obedient sheep under Muzan's command.

They stood there, without any chaos or crowding.

As time passed, more and more demons appeared before Muzan and Kokushibo.

The stench emanating from the gathered demons was almost enough to make one faint.

A dense mass, roughly estimated to be two to three hundred strong.

Looking at the demons before him, Muzan revealed a cruel smile.

It's time to lead them to eliminate the Demon Slayer Corps.

Chapter 57: Swordsmen Die in Succession, the Scribe Takes Action

Huh? How am I in bed?

Slowly opening her eyes, Tamayo sat up, clutching her forehead.

Her consciousness was still a bit hazy, and she couldn't quite recall what had happened before.

She vaguely remembered hearing that man's cold and cruel command echoing in her mind.

Acting on instinct, she had refused.

Immediately after, her mind went blank, and all she remembered was the Scribe rushing towards her.

Wait, the Scribe?

Tamayo quickly looked around, but she couldn't find the man from her memory.

Only on a piece of paper by the desk did a trace of his aura remain.

After a few glances at the paper, Tamayo understood where the Scribe had gone.

Essentially, he wanted to investigate Muzan's scheme and told her not to worry about him.

Secondly, the Scribe was worried that she might be controlled again due to close contact with Muzan, so he wouldn't be taking her with him this time.

A warm feeling spread through her heart, and Tamayo smiled gently.

She had lived much longer than the Scribe, yet in front of him, she still felt like a child, always being taken care of.

Getting up, Tamayo walked to the window and looked up at the sky, where the sun was already showing a hint of light.

Scribe, you must be careful. I'll be right here, waiting for you to return.

Meanwhile, after leaving the Nen'yūki town, the Scribe kept adjusting his direction based on a feeling in his heart.

Although he didn't know if this feeling was real or reliable, it was much easier than wandering around aimlessly.

In the afternoon, he stopped when he passed by a forest.

On the outskirts of the forest, a major tree-felling incident had occurred.

Fortunately, the incident seemed to have happened at night, so no one was injured.

Naturally, no one knew the details of what happened.

However, the Scribe was drawn to the state of the fallen trees.

The dozen or so fallen trees weren't intertwined randomly; instead, seven or eight trees on each side had fallen in a fan shape.

It felt as if a giant ape had pushed them over.

His eyes narrowed, and while the surrounding onlookers weren't paying attention, the Scribe snuck closer to the fallen trees.

After a brief inspection, he indeed discovered some suspicious spots.

On the fallen trees on both sides, a few bore a massive handprint, and a footprint was revealed in the muddy pit on the ground.

Comparing it with his own foot, the Scribe deduced that this bipedal creature must be at least five meters tall.

A height of five meters in this era could only belong to one type of creature.

An Evil Demon with a powerful Blood Demon Art!

Judging by the direction of the footprints, there were no densely populated towns in the vicinity in that direction.

This meant that the creature hadn't left due to a lack of food.

Combining this with Tamayo's previous situation, the Scribe had figured out Muzan's plan.

Muzan was gathering a large number of Demons for some unknown purpose.

And for Muzan to be so overt, even using other Demons, his objective must be extraordinary.

With the power of the Progenitor of Demons, this army of Evil Demons would be enough to sweep through town after town.

Even powerful Samurai and organized military corps would not be their match at night.

Except for one organization: the Demon Slayer Corps.

Thinking this, the Scribe's mind pieced together Muzan's plan.

He intended to completely annihilate the Demon Slayer Corps during the period after Tsugikuni Yoriichi's death!

In this way, there would no longer be organized Demon Slayers, only scattered and disorganized individuals.

A brilliant strategy of striking at the heart of the enemy.

His gaze turned cold, and the Scribe didn't hesitate, running towards the direction indicated by the footprints.

He hadn't forgiven the Demon Slayer Corps for what they did to him and Yoriichi back then, but in the current era, their existence was still necessary.

Relying solely on himself to search would take too much time. If Muzan was determined not to show himself, it might take hundreds of years just to find him.

Moreover, Yoriichi had told him before his death.

If the Demon Slayer Corps encountered a major crisis they couldn't overcome, he could offer them appropriate assistance.

Since the master said so, it wouldn't be right for him to just stand by and do nothing.

Moreover, the Scribe had a feeling that the mission he had been waiting for was about to arrive.

Following the trail of the demons, the Scribe ran until dusk.

As night fell, he finally caught up to the owner of the footprints.

Looking into the distance, the small town ahead had already become a sea of fire.

The masses wailed in the flames, while the evil demons laughed maniacally.

Occasionally, someone, fueled by rage, would attempt to resist, only to be effortlessly killed by a demon.

Only a few strange swordsmen, clad in demon-slaying uniforms and armed with weapons, could put up a fight against these evil demons.

But even they could, at best, only manage a one-on-one duel with an evil demon.

A dozen swordsmen facing dozens of evil demons were simply fodder.

One, two, three.

The swordsmen holding their blades fell one after another, becoming a delicious meal for the grinning demons.

The remaining swordsmen backed into each other, seemingly seeking courage and strength from one another for a final struggle.

But in the face of true, raw power, these were all empty words.

A swordsman, who had lost an eye and had his left arm severed, finally couldn't bear the immense pressure. He dropped his Nichirin Blade and ran outside like a madman.

However, he hadn't taken more than a few steps before a dog-headed demon bit into his throat.

He desperately thrashed his limbs against the demon, his voice muffled as he cried for help.

But to the demons, these were merely pre-meal amusements.