The morning arrived with a brisk chill in the air, the sky over Ravenscroft still streaked with the last colors of dawn. The village had transformed overnight. People moved in a careful rhythm, gathering their things and preparing for the battle that was inevitably approaching. The Demon Slayers were no exception. Their resolve was firm, and though the weight of the coming fight hung heavily over them, there was no room for hesitation.
Tanjiro stood at the forefront of the group, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the familiar weight grounding him. His body was tense, his thoughts racing with everything they had learned in the past few days. The demons were closer than ever. This was no longer just a series of skirmishes—it was the beginning of something much larger.
"Tanjiro," Kanao called from behind him, her voice steady as always. "Everything's in place. We're ready."
Tanjiro nodded, not turning to face her. His gaze remained focused ahead, but he felt a surge of gratitude for Kanao and the others. They had fought together before, and they would fight together again. But this time, there was more at stake than ever before.
"We won't let them take this village," he said, his voice unwavering.
The group assembled near the village gates, each of them in their battle gear, their expressions grim but determined. Nezuko stood beside him, her stance ready, as fierce and steady as ever. The others were already mounting their steeds or preparing their equipment. Shinobu and Giyu had made sure everything was in order, giving Tanjiro and his companions the final green light.
Inosuke, ever brash, cracked his knuckles and smirked. "I'll show them what a real fight is!"
Zenitsu, still trying to shake the nerves, stood next to him, trying to act braver than he felt. "Right… right! We'll show them the power of the Thunder Breathing!"
Even though their words carried a lightness, the air around them was anything but. Tanjiro couldn't help but feel the heaviness of the moment, the tension coiling in the pit of his stomach. Every fight they'd faced up until now had led to this—this final confrontation that would determine everything.
Giyu approached Tanjiro, his expression neutral but his eyes carrying an unspoken understanding. "Be careful. The demons we face now are unlike any we've encountered before. They are not simply strong; they are strategic, dangerous."
"I know," Tanjiro replied, meeting his gaze. "But we have to end it. For our families, for everyone."
Shinobu, ever calm, stood with them, her usual smile gone, replaced with a rare seriousness. "There is no turning back now. Stay focused and fight with everything you have."
Without another word, the group moved out. The roads were quiet as they traveled through the forest, their pace quickening as they neared the heart of the enemy's territory. Tanjiro's senses were heightened, every sound, every movement alerting him to the world around him. His thoughts kept drifting to his family—his mother, father, and siblings. The demons had stolen everything from him, and now, he had the chance to stop them.
The further they traveled, the more intense the sense of danger became. The air felt thick with the presence of demons, and even the wildlife seemed to grow quieter, as if afraid of what was coming.
They soon reached a clearing, where the forest gave way to an open expanse of land. Tanjiro could see the remnants of villages that had fallen to the demons, their buildings shattered and abandoned, the earth scorched. This was the enemy's territory, and it sent a chill down his spine.
At the far end of the clearing, figures began to emerge from the shadows. Demons, their eyes glowing with an unnatural malice, moved toward them, drawn by the presence of the Demon Slayers.
"Here they come," Tanjiro muttered under his breath.
The battle began with a deafening roar, the demons charging toward them in an unrelenting wave. Tanjiro didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, he unsheathed his sword, the blade flashing as he dove into the fray.
Nezuko was at his side, her movements a blur as she cut through the demons with precision. Together, they were unstoppable. Tanjiro's breath came in quick bursts, his body moving on instinct as he focused on each strike, each movement. The demons were relentless, but Tanjiro was faster, his techniques honed through years of hardship and determination.
Inosuke and Zenitsu fought nearby, their styles contrasting but effective. Inosuke's ferocity was a whirlwind of blades, his boar mask a symbol of his wild nature, while Zenitsu, despite his nerves, unleashed a fury of lightning-fast strikes with his Thunder Breathing techniques.
Kanao fought with grace and speed, her blades cutting through demons with deadly precision. Every movement was a dance, each strike a calculated decision.
As the battle raged on, Tanjiro felt the weight of each demon that fell beneath his blade, but there was no time to savor the victories. More kept coming, and the darkness pressed in around them. It was a test of endurance, of willpower.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, Tanjiro saw it—a figure moving swiftly toward them. A demon unlike the others, its presence overwhelming. It was tall, its skin an unnatural shade of black, and its eyes gleamed with a twisted intelligence.
"Muzan," Tanjiro whispered, his heart pounding in his chest.
The demon lord had arrived.
Muzan Kibutsuji stood at the edge of the battlefield, his power radiating like a storm. The Demon Slayers froze for a moment as they realized who it was. This was the one they had been waiting for, the one who had orchestrated everything.
Tanjiro's grip tightened on his sword, and he met Muzan's gaze, his mind filled with a single thought—this was the moment.
And he would not fail.