Even after slicing Gyokko apart, Muzan's anger had not subsided. His Black Blood Thorns lashed down, and he only stopped after cutting him into countless fragments.
"I just told you to keep your mouths shut! Do you not have ears?!" Muzan roared at the Upper Ranks, the Black Blood Thorns writhing behind him.
None of the five Upper Ranks dared speak now. All of them lowered their heads in terror.
Even Lord Kokushibo is trembling. Lord Muzan is truly terrifying...
Out of the corner of his eye, Hantengu saw Kokushibo trembling beside him and assumed he was also afraid of the enraged Muzan.
But that was not the real reason.
Yoriichi...
The face in his mind reminded him of the person he had been unable to forget for over a hundred years. Although his memories of being human had grown hazy or vanished entirely, everything about that person remained seared into his mind, impossible to forget.
Although Kokushibo immediately noticed the differences between this person and Yoriichi, that face still inevitably brought Yoriichi to mind, reminding him of the Red Moon Night when he had encountered him for the last time.
The rule that Swordsmen with the Demon Slayer Mark would not live past twenty-five had not held true for Yoriichi. Already in his eighties, he had made Kokushibo feel immense pressure simply by taking his stance.
Kokushibo had also taken his stance, intending to fight Yoriichi, but in the next instant, Yoriichi's blade had already cut across his body. That strike had been every bit as powerful as it was in his prime, not weakened in the slightest by age. If a second strike came, Kokushibo would undoubtedly die there.
Yet no second strike came. After that single blow, Yoriichi stood motionless, his life already gone. That final swing