Dead silence.
A dead silence more terrifying than death itself.
Muzan Kibutsuji stood on the raised platform without speaking or making so much as an unnecessary movement.
Yet the almost tangible fury and killing intent radiating from him pinned the five Upper Ranks below in place like hundreds of millions of tons of seawater.
Hantengu had already buried his head in the ground, his entire body trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Gyokko had also put away all his morbid artistic sensibilities, not daring to make the slightest sound.
Even the perpetually flippant Doma had his smile freeze completely. He could sense that Lord Muzan's anger this time was unlike any before. This was not simply punishment for a failure, but something... akin to a creator god discovering an incomprehensible blemish that did not belong to him on his own work, and flying into a rage that made him want to tear the entire painting apart.
Akaza clenched his teeth, forcibly suppressing his body's instinctive urge to tremble in fear.
Only Kokushibo remained kneeling at the very front, his six eyes as still as an ancient well, as though this soul-freezing fury had nothing to do with him.
"One hundred and thirteen years."
At last, Muzan spoke.
His voice was soft and flat, yet it pierced every Upper Rank's ears like a red-hot iron spike.
"For one hundred and thirteen full years, my greatest creations, the Upper Rank Moons, have undergone no changes and suffered no losses."
He slowly raised his hand and reached into the air, as though touching the glory that had belonged to him and was now gone.
"I gave you nearly limitless lives. I gave you power beyond mortal bounds. And this is how you repay me?"
He abruptly clenched his fist!
Boom!
An invisible