The Progenitor of Ghosts

"Once you die, all demons will perish, am I right?"

The night wind blew.

It stirred the hair of the Progenitor of Demons.

A thousand years have passed since the distant Heian era, when Kibutsuji Muzan used his own blood to turn humans into immortal demons, igniting a long war between man and demon.

Tonight marks the very first meeting between the leaders of both sides.

Inside a rustic Japanese-style house, Muzan, dressed in a sharp, well-tailored suit and meticulously groomed, finally met the master of the Demon Slayer Corps who had obstructed him for so long: Ubuyashiki Kagaya.

As a demon, Muzan possessed a handsome appearance and a tall stature; as a human, Kagaya's face was marred by hideous scars peeking through his bandages, his eyes devoid of light.

Beneath the pristine, handsome skin lay a rotting heart.

Beneath the rotting, scarred skin lay a resilient and beautiful heart.

This was not a traditional clash of titans.

The disparity in their power was as obvious as a tyrannosaurus compared to a chick, visible to the naked eye.

The man lying on the bed spoke slowly, his voice steady and gentle, enough to bring peace to anyone who heard it.

"The wind has picked up, just as I said."

"Shut up."

Muzan's voice was the polar opposite: cold, ruthless, and devoid of any biological warmth.

"Allow me to say one last thing."

"Although I said earlier that my existence is not particularly important, my death is not without meaning."

"I have been fortunate enough to earn the admiration of those children, which means... if I die..."

"The morale of the Demon Slayer Corps will reach an unprecedented high."

"Are you finished?"

Muzan extended his palm, eerie crimson energy surging beneath his skin, his fingers bared like unsheathed short blades, sharp and lethal.

"Yes... I am finished."

"I didn't expect you to listen to me for so long. Thank you, Muzan."

A content Kagaya leaned against his wife, while his daughters, who had been playing with a ball outside, stopped their movements and watched the room in silence.

The moment before Muzan struck, Kagaya pulled the fuse of the explosives.

Tongues of fire spread rapidly beneath the floorboards, and the flames of the explosion were about to rise.

This was a trap.

He had intentionally exposed the location of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters to let Muzan find him.

To ensure Muzan would not grow suspicious, he had allowed his wife and daughters to stay and face death alongside him.

All of this was done merely to increase the odds of eliminating Muzan.

Is such a sacrifice, one that defies human common sense, worth it?

It is.

Demons survive by eating humans, and Muzan's existence poses too great a threat to humanity, having caused countless tragedies over the past millennium.

Muzan was born from the Ubuyashiki bloodline.

Bound by karma, the Ubuyashiki clan was cursed; its members were frail and sickly from birth, rarely living past the age of thirty.

A thousand years have passed, and the current head is the 96th generation.

Kagaya was a kind and righteous man; even without the family curse, he would have been willing to pay any price to kill the monster that had caused so many tragedies: Muzan!

At any cost!!

However...

In the final moments of his life, Kagaya felt the warmth of his wife and heard the breathing of his daughters outside the door...

I am sorry...

The thousand-year wish of the Ubuyashiki, yet it requires sacrificing you all...

God...

If you truly exist, I truly hope you can protect them...

I truly hope we can still be together...

--

--

BOOM!!

The sound of the explosion tore through the silent night, the blinding firelight like a giant beast devouring everything in its path!

Amidst the flames.

A young man's figure stepped out, his voice a soft murmur.

"I don't quite get the situation. It isn't the usual format for issuing a mission."

"Who am I supposed to save..."

"Forget it, I'll just save everyone."

The youth clapped his hands together, a violent gale erupting from his palms that scattered the encroaching flames, carving out a vacuum zone within the sea of fire!

Wind Style: Gale Palm!

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!

The roar of the explosions echoed in his ears. Yaozai was blind, unable to see the scene before him.

What is happening?

Whose voice was that just now?

After the explosions.

The sound of footsteps treading on wooden floorboards rang out beside Yaozai.

"In this state, I'm really worried you'll die before you finish the loan."

"Who was it you wanted to save? It's my first time on the job, I didn't catch it."

Having arrived in an alternate dimension for the first time, Uchiha Sora kept his Sharingan active the entire time.

He was completely clueless as to how he had traveled here; it felt somewhat like a Reverse Summoning, yet it was also different.

The Sharingan possessed the ability to observe the flow of chakra, and by relying on its powerful insight, it could copy taijutsu and ninjutsu that were not Kekkei Genkai.

Chakra was a special energy formed by the combination of spiritual and physical energy. If he could see chakra, then lower-level energies went without saying.

Uchiha Sora did not recognize the people present; he could only confirm that Yaozai was the borrower.

Among those present, aside from the pale-faced man in the suit who possessed higher physical energy, the others were almost indistinguishable from ordinary people.

Especially this borrower, who looked like he was on the verge of death.

"Are you... a god?"

After a brief moment of daze, Yaozai responded.

Only a god could have heard his final inner thoughts.

Uchiha Sora quickly realized one thing.

This guy didn't have a lending platform in his head like he did.

Am I special...

Well, obviously.

"A god... I wouldn't go that far. I'm just here to issue a loan."

Uchiha Sora met those pale eyes: "Q&A is too much of a hassle. Pardon the intrusion, I have some things to confirm."

Yaozai's body stiffened, feeling as though something had surged into his mind, rifling through his memories.

Against this, he was powerless to resist.

Hypnotizing a ninja of the same level required eye contact as a prerequisite, but for a sickly, ordinary person... he could just pour his ocular power directly in.

Soon, Uchiha Sora filtered out some key intelligence.

He turned his head to look up and down at Kibutsuji Muzan, as if observing some rare species.

"You... how could you possibly have lived for a thousand years?"

With energy levels at most equivalent to a Special Jonin, how could he have survived for so long!

How did this guy manage it!

Muzan finally snapped out of his bewilderment.

He sneered and spoke: "I overestimated you, Kagaya Ubuyashiki."

"I thought you had the resolve to sacrifice your wife and children to oppose me, but when it came down to it, you couldn't help yourself, could you?"

"Is this the Hashira you secretly cultivated? That little trick just now was quite amusing."

"However... calling this brat a god or something..."

"How truly laughable!"

Kagaya suddenly realized with a jolt that not only was he unharmed, but Muzan was also perfectly fine!

Ignoring his frail body, he shouted with all his might: "Run! The opponent is the Progenitor of Demons!!"

Uchiha Sora turned around. He was only eight years old this year; even if children in the ninja world developed quickly, he was only about 1.5 meters tall.

He walked until he was less than half a meter in front of Muzan, looking up at him.

"What's so funny? What exactly is amusing?"

Uh...

Muzan's pupils constricted violently. These familiar words...

A strong sense of déjà vu flooded his consciousness, and the wound left by that man suddenly throbbed with pain.

The corners of Uchiha Sora's mouth curled up, his words filled with absolute arrogance.

"To a lowly demon creature like you..."

"There is no difference between me and a god."

BANG!!

His fist whistled through the air, slamming into Muzan's jaw.

The sound of fine bone cracking mingled with a muffled grunt!

Before Muzan could even react, the fist that had just shattered his chin transformed into a palm, wreathed in flowing flames, and struck out fiercely!

Swish—

The back of his hand carried a sharp gale, slapping heavily against the side of Muzan's face.

Under the immense impact, Muzan's entire demonic body flew backward like a ragdoll, his head spinning seventeen or eighteen times before separating from his neck mid-air.

Thud—

His body crashed into the burning wreckage of the wooden house, twitching a few times.