Oh?
My head... was gone?
I hadn't lost once in hundreds of years, yet I actually lost to this swordsman.
Lord Muzan was watching right now, too.
No, I absolutely couldn't give up the fight this easily.
I'd only lost my head. Maybe...
Maybe I could overcome the weakness of dying from decapitation, just like Lord Muzan?
The headless corpse lay fallen on the ground.
He was still struggling to marshal his Blood Demon Art Energy, struggling to stimulate his flesh.
Unfortunately.
Both his body's own regenerative power and his Blood Demon Art.
Were rapidly slipping away from him.
Wait?
Come to think of it, Lord Muzan... seemed to have already given up on me just now.
No wonder, really.
I lost to a true swordsman...
Ah, right.
Since my opponent was Matsushita Shousha, losing to him seemed perfectly normal.
That did make me a little curious.
Between this swordsman and Lord Kokushibo, who was stronger...?
Even in the final moments of his life.
Doma, or rather, Miyano Makoto, did not, like other demons.
Regain his humanity after escaping Muzan's control.
Even without Muzan's influence, he felt not the slightest regret or distaste.
For the hundreds of years he had spent as a demon.
[Makoto]
Had been a clever, kind child from an early age.
Not only had he saved many pitiful people, but he had also generously granted them happiness.
At least, that was how he saw it.
Because ever since he was old enough to understand, his parents, the Cult Leader and Deputy Cult Leader, had taught him exactly that.
He had been born with oak-white hair and distinctive rainbow-colored eyes.
Which led his parents to regard him as their cult's Holy Son.
The kind who could speak directly with the gods, no less.
And he, simply because