After defeating the enormous snake demon and the swarm of flying creatures, Tanjiro stood amidst the silent ruins, his chest rising and falling slowly. The smell of burnt flesh still lingered in the air. The wind carried the faint echo of his own Reiatsu — a pressure so dense it distorted the ground beneath him.
But inside, a storm brewed.
"What is even happening here?" he muttered, his brows tightening.
Two possibilities circled in his mind. Either Muzan had completely conquered the world, turning it into a kingdom of demons… or he had somehow hidden all the remaining humans somewhere. Because demons couldn't survive without human blood — Muzan wasn't foolish enough to destroy his only food source.
That thought made Tanjiro's heart tighten. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the hilt of his black-bladed Zanpakutō. "If Muzan rules this world now… then where are they? Where are the humans?"
For the first time, Tanjiro decided to travel beyond Japan. Until now, his entire life, his battles, and his memories had been bound within those islands. He had never stepped outside. All he had ever known was that foreign nations had ignored the existence of demons — dismissing them as myths, stories whispered in darkness.
He gathered Reishi beneath his feet, compressed it with his Reiatsu, and launched himself skyward — soaring beyond the mist-shrouded borders of Japan.
As he crossed the invisible line separating the nation from the rest of the world, the landscape below changed. What should have been lush forests and thriving cities had become a dead expanse — an enormous wasteland stretching endlessly. The ground was cracked and dry, barren of even a single blade of grass.
Tanjiro descended slightly, hovering closer to the surface. The further he went, the more he saw — ruins of buildings scattered across the horizon. Once-tall skyscrapers now stood like broken bones piercing the land. Their glass windows were shattered, and vines of rust and decay clung to their iron skeletons.
He landed atop one of the tallest ruins, his feet crunching against the dust of what once was civilization. There, a tattered flag flapped weakly in the dry wind. It was white — with a single red circle in its center.
"This…" Tanjiro's eyes widened. "This is Japan's flag!"
He looked around, confused. "Then… am I still in Japan?"
The silence answered him. The air carried no scent of life — no heartbeat, no breath, no trace of humanity.
He walked down the wide road, surrounded by hollow buildings, until he came upon a massive tower with faded letters engraved on its side. Tanjiro tilted his head, reading carefully. "Hmm… The first symbol is 'Tō' and the next one… 'kyō.' Eastern Capital… Tokyo."
"So this was Tokyo," he whispered, awe mixed with sorrow.
He entered the building. The air inside was thick and stale. Broken toys, torn clothes, and rusted machines were scattered everywhere — signs of chaos, of lives abruptly ended.
"What happened here?" Tanjiro murmured, crouching beside a cracked doll. "Did people once live here?"
Suddenly, a sharp, foul scent hit his nose — familiar and revolting. His muscles tensed instantly.
"That smell… a demon."
A massive figure emerged from the shadows — nearly ten feet tall, with four grotesque arms. Two arms extended forward, while the other two sprouted unnaturally from its back. Its claws were long, metallic, and gleamed like swords. Torn clothes hung loosely over its muscular frame. In its glowing yellow eyes, Tanjiro spotted something carved — the number 42.
"Number forty-two?" Tanjiro frowned. "But… there were only twelve Lower Moons. That means Muzan created more — maybe hundreds."
The demon roared, shaking the ground, its breath stinking of blood. Tanjiro simply sighed, resting a hand on his sword. "Unfortunately… you're too weak."
The demon blinked. The human it saw a second ago vanished into thin air. "What—?"
Before it could react, a voice whispered behind it. "Water Breathing: Eighth Form — Waterfall Basin!"
A clean, swift slash — and the demon's body split vertically in half. Its pieces fell apart, dissolving into mist.
Tanjiro sheathed his sword. "So… sunlight no longer kills them. Yet my blade still purifies their hearts. It seems even this new breed can be slain."
But a deeper concern gnawed at him. "Not one living human yet… Muzan, if you're still out there, come face me yourself."
He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. Then, reaching out with his senses, he manipulated the flow of Reishi. A faint flicker — several life signatures pulsed beneath the surface.
"Living beings…" he whispered. "They're underground."
He raised his hand. "Sorry, but I'll be gentle."
Releasing just ten percent of his Reiatsu, he let the immense pressure crush the floor beneath him. The stone cracked and gave way, revealing an underground passage. Tanjiro descended, sealing his Reiatsu again so it wouldn't harm whoever was below.
The air was cold and damp. Amid the darkness, he saw a faint light — a small figure tied to a chair.
"A human…" Tanjiro breathed.
He stepped forward and cut the ropes with a flick of his blade. "Hey! Are you alright?"
The little girl flinched, terrified. She backed away, trembling. "No! Don't come near me! You have to run — he'll kill you too!"
Tanjiro softened his voice. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be afraid. I killed the demon that was here. You're safe now."
His tone carried the warmth of an older brother. Slowly, the girl's shaking stopped. Her breathing steadied, and tears began to dry on her cheeks.
When Tanjiro felt she had calmed down, he asked gently, "What's your name?"
The girl sniffled. "My name is… Sakura."
Tanjiro smiled faintly. "Sakura, huh? That's a beautiful name." He lifted her carefully into his arms and carried her back up to the surface. The sunlight — or what little light pierced the clouds — touched her face for the first time in days.
He set her down on a dusty table and knelt beside her. "Sakura, where are your parents?"
The question made her eyes darken. "My mom and dad… were killed. By demons."
Tanjiro's chest tightened. He leaned closer. "That day… what happened?"
Sakura's lips quivered. The memory itself seemed to choke her. Tanjiro recognized that look — the same horror he once felt when his own family was slaughtered. He reached out, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"It's alright," he said softly. "You don't have to be afraid anymore. I promise — nothing will happen to you while I'm here. But please, tell me what happened that day."
Sakura hesitated… then looked into his eyes. For a moment, she saw something — a flame she'd seen once before. The calm yet fierce determination that reminded her of another swordsman — a man with black hair and piercing blue eyes. Giyu.
The same unshakable resolve burned in Tanjiro's gaze.
That gave her courage. She took a deep breath and began.
"It was a few weeks ago…"
"I came here with my mom and dad. We were eating noodles together at a restaurant. Everything was normal — we were laughing, like a real family. But then, we heard screams outside. So many voices… crying, shouting. Before we understood what was happening, they came in."
Her voice began to shake.
"The demons. There were so many of them. They broke through the walls and started killing everyone. The police tried to shoot them, but… the bullets didn't work. My dad grabbed me and Mom and tried to run, but one of the demons — a big one, with four arms — jumped in front of us. It… it bit off my father's head."
Her tears started flowing again.
"My mom screamed and pushed me behind her. She threw a chair at the demon and told me to run — to not look back. I didn't want to leave her, but I had to. I ran toward the elevator where people were trying to escape… but before I could reach it, another demon came and tore the elevator apart. Everyone inside… died."
She paused, trembling. Tanjiro's fists clenched silently.
"Then that demon turned to me. I thought I was going to die too. But suddenly… his head flew off! Someone had appeared — a man with black hair. He killed them all with his sword, just like you."
Her eyes lit faintly as she remembered.
"But then that same four-armed demon came back and attacked him. The man shouted for me to run again. I did… I just kept running until everything went dark. And when I woke up… I was here, tied to that chair."
She buried her face in her hands. "I thought everyone was gone…"
Tanjiro listened quietly, his eyes steady but sorrowful. He placed his hand on her head and spoke softly, "You were brave, Sakura. You did nothing wrong. You survived — and that means there's still hope."
The girl looked up at him, her eyes glimmering. "Hope…?"
Tanjiro smiled faintly, though pain flickered beneath it. "Yes. As long as even one human heart beats in this world, it means Muzan hasn't won yet."
He stood, looking toward the distant ruins of the city. The wind blew through the empty streets, carrying the faint echo of lost laughter.
Tanjiro tightened his grip on his sword. "Muzan Kibutsuji… if this truly is the world you've created, then I'll tear it apart with my own hands."
Sakura watched him — a lone swordsman standing in a world drowned by shadows, his black blade gleaming faintly under a dying sun.
And though she didn't fully understand who he was or where he came from, in that moment, Sakura knew one thing for certain — hope had returned.
For the first time in centuries, the world had a protector again.
The last Demon Slayer had come home.