The storm of battle raged on.
Tanjiro's breath was ragged, blade trembling as Zohakuten emerged, taller and more monstrous than the clones before. Enshrouded by a grotesque wooden dragon-like structure formed from his own flesh, his voice was deeper — soaked in venom.
"You hurt my brothers... You will suffer."
Tanjiro's hand gripped tighter around the hilt of his blade, Nezuko beside him, still burning bright with her demonic flames.
Then—
A loud bang echoed.
A shotgun shell tore through the air, shattering one of Zohakuten's mouths before it could scream.
Genya stepped into the fray.
Blood trickled from the edge of his mouth, his eyes feral, voice hoarse but clear. "You two really can't fight without drawing attention."
Tanjiro blinked. "Genya!?"
But something was off.
Genya's veins were pulsating darkly, his teeth sharper—his body regenerating rapidly.
He was part-demon now, something that made even Zohakuten hesitate.
"I'll keep him busy. Tanjiro, finish what you started with the others!"
Zohakuten growled, "Another cockroach."
Genya raised his gun with a grin. "This cockroach has fangs."
He charged, unloading rounds infused with wisteria and his own blood, while Tanjiro and Nezuko went back for the fractured clones, preventing them from reforming fully.
Elsewhere in the Swordsmith Village…
Mist and rot clashed violently.
Muichiro Tokito, his expression unreadable as always, stood locked in a deadly dance against Gyokko, the Upper Moon Five — a grotesque demon who slithered from one monstrous vase to another.
Gyokko's attacks were erratic — grotesque aquatic creatures sculpted from flesh and porcelain, each exploding or slashing with poisonous water.
Muichiro's blade cut with tranquil efficiency.
"Mist Breathing, Third Form — Scattering Mist Splash!"
He dashed through Gyokko's minions, cutting their twisted forms in a blur of silver-blue mist. But the poison had already begun seeping into his body from a previous wound.
His breathing slowed.
"Not… yet," Muichiro muttered.
Suddenly, Gyokko emerged behind him, attempting a lethal strike. But Muichiro had anticipated it.
"Seventh Form — Obscuring Clouds!"
In an instant, his presence vanished.
The mist thickened, swallowing the demon whole. Then came a single flash.
Gyokko shrieked. One of his vases shattered.
Muichiro dropped to one knee, panting.
"I may be poisoned…" he whispered, "but I'll still carve you down."
The battle was far from over.
Back with Tanjiro, Zohakuten laughed, his wooden dragons coiling.
Nezuko snarled beside her brother.
Genya reloaded.
And Tanjiro's eyes sharpened.
They wouldn't fall here.
Not now. Not ever.