Fear etched into the cells

After Father abandoned us, Mother raised me without a word of complaint. Even when she became gravely ill, she did everything she could so I could live a decent life. In the end, she even wanted to kill herself so she would no longer be a burden to me. I finally managed to talk her out of it, but then a demon attacked our village. Mother was brutally murdered, and I was the only survivor...

Mr. Sanemi's family had so many children that simply staying alive was already a struggle. Yet their mother, who was so important to them, became a demon. Only one of his six younger brothers survived, and he had to kill the mother he loved and respected most with his own hands...

And that brother and sister...

Demons kept taking the people we cherished. They treated humans as playthings, delighting in their suffering, their grief, and the destruction of their lives...

They were once human too, weren't they? Why were they like this? Why did creatures like demons exist? How ugly must that man named Muzan Kibutsuji be? How filthy?

Rokuro listened to Chiba Yo, somewhat bewildered, then said dismissively, "What does any of that have to do with me? It's only natural for us demons to kill hum-"

Before Rokuro could finish, he suddenly froze. As he watched Chiba Yo approach him step by step, another voice rang out in his mind.

"What's amusing about this? What's so funny?"

It was another voice suppressing its fury. Along with it, an image appeared in his mind: a man who looked remarkably like the boy before him. He, too, had a strange flame-shaped mark on his forehead, and his long black hair, red at the edges, was tied in a high ponytail. Dressed in red, he stood beneath the moonlight.

These were... Lord Muzan's memories...

Rokuro understood at once, and beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

"You were once human too, weren't you? Why do you slaughter humans?"

Chiba Yo spoke again, and the voice in Rokuro's mind rang out once more.

"Why do you forget?"

Shing-

The Nichirin Blade slid from its sheath, its black blade gradually turning red...

Cold sweat kept pouring down Rokuro's forehead. The cells in his body radiated fear, making him tremble all over.

"Damn you! Die!"

Panicking, Rokuro shook his head, trying to break free of this state, then charged at Chiba Yo with his fist raised.

Swish!

The sound of a blade slicing through flesh rang out, and all four of Rokuro's limbs were severed in an instant. There had been four slashes, but they were so fast that only a single sound could be heard.

"Aah!!!"

Rokuro fell to the ground with a scream.

Chiba Yo walked up to him, Nichirin Blade in hand. Its black blade had turned completely red, becoming identical to the sword held by the man in Rokuro's memories.

"What does life mean to you demons?"

"What do you take life for?"

The two voices rang out together, overlapping. At that moment, Chiba Yo's figure, holding the long red blade, merged perfectly with the figure in Rokuro's mind, and the terror radiating from Rokuro's cells reached its peak.

No... How could I be this terrified of a human? And how could Lord Muzan fear a human? This had to be false. Humans were nothing but feeble creatures. They could never defeat us, who never aged, fell ill, or suffered injuries.

Rokuro desperately tried to shake off his body's fear, but he could not stop trembling.

"Ha... haha, don't think you've beaten me! Your sword touched my body just now, didn't it? I'll destroy it right now. Let's see what you do then. Blood Demon Art: Windlass Rotation!"

Rokuro blustered in a trembling voice, staring at Chiba Yo's sword as he shouted.

The scene suddenly fell silent for a second. Nothing happened.

Chiba Yo slowly raised his scarlet Bright Red Nichirin Blade. His gaze was calm, but the fury buried deep within it was unmistakable.

"Impossible! My Blood Demon Art can make anything I touch rotate however I want! Why is your sword fine?" Rokuro shouted at Chiba Yo in disbelief.

His Blood Demon Art, Windlass Rotation, allowed him to make anything he touched rotate at his will. Unless he was beheaded in a single strike, he could twist a Nichirin Blade into a ring, rendering it useless. If he touched someone's body, his Blood Demon Art could also twist that part until the tissue died. The longer he maintained contact, the longer he could control it, and the stronger that control became.

With this Blood Demon Art, his chances of defeating a demon slayer were almost one hundred percent, as long as the gap in their strength was not too great.

Yet now, his previously infallible Blood Demon Art had no effect at all.

How was that possible? His sword cut off my limbs. My body definitely touched that blade. Why didn't my Blood Demon Art work?

Cold sweat poured from Rokuro's entire body, and his terror kept growing, until he even forgot for a moment to regenerate his severed limbs. But even if he had tried, he would not have been able to. Wounds inflicted by a Bright Red Nichirin Blade were difficult to regenerate even for an Upper Rank or Muzan himself, let alone a mere Lower Rank Two like him.

The Bright Red Nichirin Blade was also why his Blood Demon Art had failed.

Naturally, Chiba Yo would not answer Rokuro's question. Besides, he did not know the answer himself.

Stepping up to Rokuro, Chiba Yo asked his final question. The earlier questions had simply spilled out of his hatred for demons; he had never expected to get answers from one. This last question was what he truly wanted a demon to answer.

"Where is Muzan Kibutsuji?" Chiba Yo asked coldly, looking down at Rokuro on the ground.

Chiba Yo had refrained from using a Breathing Style to sever Rokuro's head in one stroke precisely because he wanted to learn Muzan Kibutsuji's whereabouts. Other demons might have something about them deserving of sympathy, but Muzan Kibutsuji, who kept creating these creatures, made families devour one another, and brought about countless tragedies, deserved none at all.

Looking at the figure before him, godlike beneath the moonlight, Rokuro could find almost nothing in him that matched his previous understanding of humans. He seemed more like a creature that surpassed demons, something even more perfect than they were.

Demons had to eat humans to become strong. They had to abandon the sunlight and emerge only at night. Yet the strength of the person before him defied all reason. He looked barely in his teens, but his speed and strength already far exceeded those of Rokuro, a demon who had eaten countless people.

He was like a god walking the earth. Such immense power seemed only natural for him, as though it had always been a part of him.

"I... I don't know... I don't know..."

Rokuro's eyes were filled with terror as he muttered and dragged himself backward. Half of that fear was of Chiba Yo, and the other half was of Muzan.