As he looked down at the two demons kneeling before him,
their faces flushed as they kept licking up his fluids,
Muzan's expression shifted uncertainly.
These two useless fools.
They should be able to adapt to this amount of blood.
Over the past thousand years, Muzan Kibutsuji had personally produced countless pawns.
He understood better than anyone how important talent was.
Not just anyone could become a demon.
Or rather,
even if most people became demons, they would be nothing more than utterly unremarkable trash.
They had no Blood Demon Arts.
Their strength and regeneration were also thoroughly ordinary.
A few samurai who worked well together could hold them off until dawn.
Fewer than one in ten demons could awaken a Blood Demon Art.
And among those, demons capable of reaching the Lower Ranks' level
might not even number one in a hundred man-eating demons.
And aside from their innate talent,
how much of his blood they could withstand was also critically important.
Useless fools with poor talent
could not even accept a single drop of his blood.
Once his noble blood entered their bodies...
their flesh would fail to keep pace with the mutations, causing their cells to collapse completely.
In the end, they would turn into a puddle of rotten flesh.
As for demons whose potential reached the level of the Lower Ranks,
their limit was roughly a dozen or so milliliters.
Any more than that...
and they, too, would be unable to withstand the evolutionary power his blood brought.
On the other hand, seasoned martial artists, samurai, and the swordsmen of the Demon Slayer Corps
often showed considerable adaptability.
After they adapted to his blood and became demons, how many people they ate and how far they developed their Blood Demon Arts
were what determined, among his