Ubuyashiki Kagaya was still reeling from the shock of witnessing a resurrection when he felt someone tap him gently on the shoulder.
He turned — and found Anthony smiling at him. For just an instant, having witnessed everything that had just transpired, Ubuyashiki Kagaya felt the figure before him recede — growing distant, even unfathomable.
"Just wait a little while."
Anthony spoke with perfect calm. "We'll be back soon."
"Wait — you're going now?"
Ubuyashiki Kagaya blinked, and Anthony answered with a smile:
"That's right. The three of us are enough. And then..."
"All you need to do is wait for Muzan's head to be delivered."
[Lord of the White Holy Throne: Let's move — teleporting straight into the Infinity Castle. We're going to give Muzan the jumpscare of his life.]
[Strictest Father of the Demon King: Understood.]
After quickly passing his Points to Yoriichi Tsugikuni and Jonathan, Anthony activated the World Traversal function.
Then he manually locked in the target.
[Lord of the White Holy Throne: @Founder of the Golden Spirit — as per the plan, we deal with Nakime first. We can't afford any surprises.]
[Lord of the White Holy Throne: As for you, @Strictest Father of the Demon King — your landing point is your choice. The demons inside the Infinity Castle are your domain. I trust you can handle that. Right?]
[Strictest Father of the Demon King: Mm... understood.]
[World Traversal in progress.]
[Please select a landing point.]
Having finished typing in the group chat, Yoriichi Tsugikuni looked at the lines of text appearing before him and fell into thought.
So... I have truly been brought back to life.
Whatever else could be said — now was the time to kill Muzan.
This visit would purge the Infinity Castle entirely.
The greatest obstacles, as Anthony had explained, would be handled by him and Jonathan. That left only one thing for Yoriichi himself to think about: how to kill Muzan.
But...
There would be many demons at Muzan's side, wouldn't there?
The thought made Yoriichi furrow his brow.
He thought of his brother — Kokushibo — who had, in the end, pledged himself to Muzan and become a demon.
If he went straight for Muzan first, Muzan would have time to summon reinforcements to stall for him. Combined with Muzan's ability to flee, killing him would become considerably more troublesome.
So... the right approach was to not tip his hand — to deal with the reinforcements first.
Yoriichi took a deep breath, then entered a name.
[Landing point selected: Kokushibo]
[Unable to locate landing point — landing point automatically updated: Kokushibo]
Seeing that name, Yoriichi paused for a moment — then remembered, and exhaled a helpless sigh.
And so, in the next instant, a tremendous force seemed to act upon him. He looked up — Anthony and Jonathan had already vanished at the speed of light.
Yoriichi closed his eyes.
Then — let us go.
The wind seemed to fall silent all at once.
Ubuyashiki Kagaya watched as all three figures simply disappeared. He stood motionless, unable to form a coherent thought.
In his heart, only one question remained — the last and the greatest of all.
Just... who were these people?!
——————————
Deep within the Infinity Castle.
His swordsmanship was sharp as winter steel, his movements as graceful as a crane in flight.
After some time — how long, he could not say — Kokushibo finished the sequence and settled back into a seated position on the ground, brow furrowed, lost in thought.
As it had been for the past four centuries, this session too had yielded no remarkable breakthrough. Every time, it was the same — nothing but the slow, grinding work of wearing down a wall one grain of stone at a time.
"Four hundred years... already."
Kokushibo murmured under his breath.
His eyes fell. His hands tightened. Four fingers pressed crescents into his own palms.
He had fantasized about it countless times — that one training session would bring a sudden flash of enlightenment, a great leap forward. But no matter which attempt it was, every single one had ended in failure.
He was not the one born with the most perfect gift.
The one with the most perfect gift had already died long ago.
And yet... and yet — how could anyone ever be content with that?!
He clenched his jaw and began to replay the battle with Yoriichi in his mind — but barely halfway through, he forced himself to stop.
Enough!
The silent cry tore through him.
He had replayed it so many times. Each time, he had tried to extract something from it — some refinement, some improvement to wring from the memory. But every single time, what he ultimately saw was only the gap between himself and his younger brother — a gap a thousand times over, measured in nothing but raw, absolute... talent.
He tightened his grip around the old flute held to his chest, as if he might finally crush it — but in the end, his grip only slackened, his arm going limp. Slowly, he steadied his breathing, and let the storm inside him settle back to stillness.
In four hundred years, this had happened more times than he could count.
He was used to it by now. Steady himself for a while, then return to the sword. Whatever came — he would not give up.
He had spent his entire life in pursuit of this.
So he would spend whatever life remained in pursuit of it as well.
One day — I will surpass Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
Carrying that thought within him, Kokushibo opened his eyes once more — and in that very instant, felt the presence of another. A presence both familiar and utterly strange.
He spun around — and saw a face he knew all too well. A face written over with a thousand complex emotions, with grief he had never quite been able to put into words.
"Brother..."
Yoriichi looked at Kokushibo. His expression was impossible to read — and in the end, everything he felt collapsed into a single, quiet sigh.
Then he drew the blade at his side — an ordinary Nichirin Blade — and in an instant, it blazed crimson.
"It has been a long time."
In that instant, Kokushibo was struck completely still. Words failed him entirely. He raised one hand on instinct, pointing at Yoriichi — his mind a perfect blank.
No — this is not a hallucination.
And yet...
"Why are you here?!"
He cried out, his voice pitched so sharp he barely recognized it as his own:
"Shouldn't you be dead already?! I watched it — that was something I saw with my own eyes!"
And more than that — why did he look as though he had returned to his youth?!
Why. Why. Why. Why. WHY?!
An endless flood of questions crashed through Kokushibo in that moment — and in the end, all he received was a tired, mournful downward gaze from his younger brother:
"Because I came back to life, brother."
Spoken as though it were nothing at all.
I came back to life — said so lightly. So casually.
Just as it had been four hundred years ago, when Kokushibo had watched with his own eyes as Yoriichi Tsugikuni lived past the age of eighty.
As if to say: Look — even a Ripple swordsman could live that long. So then —
— why did you ever need to become a demon?
"No... you — how is this possible?"
"I — I cannot accept this!!!"
In an instant, Kokushibo roared and swung his blade at Yoriichi with all his force. Yoriichi lowered his gaze and exhaled softly — then settled into his familiar, unhurried stance.
"And so, brother..."
In the end, with a thread of pity woven through his quiet voice, he said:
"How pitiable."
____
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