"Why? Why couldn't we kill him even with that?"
The woman who had stood beside Muzan collapsed to the ground, letting out a wail, her taut emotions unraveling into despair.
"We were so close—so close to killing him! He's even overcome the weakness of his neck?!"
Tamayo clenched her teeth, sobbing bitterly. "You damned monster, why won't you just die?"
Her words stunned Yoriichi Tsugikuni, causing him to hesitate before striking her down.
Both Yoriichi and Ren saw in this woman's eyes a deep-seated hatred for Muzan Kibutsuji.
Tamayo paid no heed to the two swordsmen, sitting slumped on the ground, her gaze vacant, as if all hope in the world had drained away.
"Damn it, we were so close!"
Ren pounded his fists against the earth, his eyes brimming with frustration and self-blame. "Just a little more, and we could have killed him!"
Yoriichi placed a hand on Ren's shoulder. "Don't lose heart. He escaped, but we'll find him again."
"It's no use," Tamayo said, her voice heavy with despair. "Muzan Kibutsuji is extraordinarily cautious. Since you failed to kill him this time, he won't show himself again until you're both dead."
Her words plunged Ren, already wracked with guilt, into deeper anguish.
He lifted his head, trembling. "Master… if I hadn't suggested we split up today, could we have killed Muzan Kibutsuji?"
"Ren!"
Yoriichi's sharp shout snapped Ren's crimson eyes back to a flicker of clarity.
Yoriichi turned to Tamayo. "You seem to know Muzan Kibutsuji well. Can you share what you know about him?"
In Tamayo's eyes, Yoriichi saw an unfeigned hatred for Muzan, a look that couldn't be faked.
Perhaps inspired by the strength of Yoriichi and Ren, Tamayo glimpsed a faint hope for her seemingly impossible dream of destroying Muzan. At Yoriichi's request, she poured out everything she knew about him.
But for Ren, learning of Muzan's caution—that he might not reappear until both he and Yoriichi were dead—shattered him completely.
It would have been easier to bear if there'd been no hope at all. But to have had a chance to kill Muzan and failed—that was the most excruciating pain.
Ren bowed his head, his world plunging into darkness, the last ray of light fading away.
"Ren!"
In a haze, he heard his master's cry, then lost all consciousness.
His injuries were too severe. To kill Muzan, he'd fought recklessly, heedless of his body's limits. But he was only human, frail compared to a demon's terrifying regenerative powers. Even minor wounds could claim his life.
His body had reached its breaking point. He'd clung to consciousness solely through his burning desire to slay Muzan. Now, realizing that dream was unattainable, his spirit, like a tightly wound string, finally snapped.
…
"Brother, you're awake!"
When Ren opened his eyes, he found himself back home, Chitoshi sitting beside him, his face full of concern.
Ren tried to speak, but his throat was painfully hoarse.
"Brother, water!"
Chitoshi hurriedly brought a cup.
Ren reached for it, but for some reason, his arm lacked strength, trembling weakly, spilling most of the water.
"Brother, let me help!"
Chitoshi quickly took the cup, guiding it to Ren's lips.
Ren stared at his wrist, murmuring, "Why?"
Why couldn't this body even hold a cup?
"Brother, your injuries were too grave," Chitoshi said, his lips pursed. Then, forcing a casual tone, he added, "The doctor said you might never wield a sword again. But it's okay—I'm grown now. I can take care of you."
Ren barely heard the rest, his ears ringing with the earlier words.
Never wield a sword?
Those simple words struck like a thunderbolt, reverberating in his mind.
He'd suspected it, but facing the reality head-on brought a visceral wave of grief.
"Chitoshi, where's Master?"
"Master Yoriichi…"
Chitoshi's expression faltered, as if hiding something.
Ren pressed, "What happened to him?"
From Chitoshi, Ren learned what had transpired during his unconscious days. In that time, the Demon Slayer Corps had been turned upside down.
His master's brother, Michikatsu Yagatsu, had attacked the Corps' headquarters as a demon, killing the Oyakata-sama, beheading him, and fleeing.
Yoriichi, as Michikatsu's younger brother, was now at the headquarters facing trial.
Ren's heart sank. Ignoring his injuries, he slipped on his shoes and staggered out.
"Brother!"
Chitoshi called after him, but Ren couldn't stop to explain.
Clenching his teeth, Yoriichi's face flashed in his mind. He couldn't bear the thought of his gentle master enduring accusations and scorn.
He shoved open the courtyard gate and ran toward the headquarters. Passersby turned at the sound, their eyes locking onto him.
Upon recognizing Ren, their gazes were strange.
Once, their looks had held awe. Now, Ren sensed disgust in their eyes, as if he'd committed some unforgivable act.
But he'd done nothing wrong!
Corps members parted as he approached, breathing to avoid him, as if proximity to him would taint them.
Whispers followed, fingers pointing at Ren's figure.
"That's him, isn't it?"
"Yeah, the new ones might not know. He's Yoriichi's apprentice, Ren. He's in league with Yoriichi. They say he let Muzan escape!"
"How can someone like that stay in the Corps?"
"Hmph, who knows? He should just die with Yoriichi!"
Ren halted, turning to the speaker. "What did you say?"
Silence fell, broken only by the sound of their own fear. The man who'd spoken bowed his head, avoiding Ren's gaze, as did the others.
Ren wouldn't stoop to their level. With a cold glance, he turned and continued.
His fists tightened, but his composure was far from steady.
If the townsfolk were talking about it, the rumor had spread far and wide.
What had Yoriichi done to deserve such slander?
And what was that about him letting Muzan escape?