Chapter Forty-Three: The Final Battle Begins

“Lord Phantom Feather, thank you for taking care of me during this time.” Hearing these words, Little Chrysanthemum knelt down, her voice filled with respect and gratitude.

After several months together, Little Chrysanthemum had gradually come to understand some of Lord Phantom Feather’s character. Above all, Lord Phantom Feather was a person of unwavering resolve. Once a decision was made, no matter what others said or thought, Lord Phantom Feather would steadfastly follow through with what he deemed necessary.

Thus, Little Chrysanthemum had long foreseen that this day would come. Lord Phantom Feather, a distinguished guest from a foreign land, was also the most powerful individual she had ever encountered. She believed that with Lord Phantom Feather’s presence, the Demon Slayer Corps would surely attain victory.

Therefore, she refrained from uttering the usual words of caution.

“Little Chrysanthemum, thanks to your care these past days, my time here has been pleasant,” Chu Fan said as he looked at her.

“I feel the same way. Meeting you and being able to care for you, Lord Phantom Feather, has been the happiest experience of my life.” Upon hearing this rare praise, Little Chrysanthemum’s eyes grew misty with emotion. Lord Phantom Feather had never praised her before, nor had he ever spoken of rewarding her. Now, hearing these words, she knew their parting was close at hand.

“There’s nothing more to say. This mansion, and all the rewards from the Demon Slayer Corps over the years—after I leave, let them serve as my parting gift to you. I hope they allow you to live a life of happiness.”

Seeing the tears glistening on Little Chrysanthemum’s face, Chu Fan offered his blessing. Even though he did not know whether his slaying of Kibutsuji Muzan would truly change the fate of this world, he still wished to bless this fourteen-year-old girl. May she, after enduring the most difficult period of her life, never again fear the demons’ assault nor worry about survival, and instead live in happiness.

“Lord Phantom Feather, I have but one request in my life. Before you go, could you hold me, just once?” Little Chrysanthemum asked, her head bowed.

Chu Fan’s eyes flickered. After a brief pause, he reached out and drew her into his embrace. For a moment, Little Chrysanthemum froze, but soon her arms wrapped around Chu Fan, feeling for the first time the warmth and strength of a broad chest.

The embrace lasted no more than ten seconds before Little Chrysanthemum gently let go.

“Stay here, and rest assured. By tomorrow at the latest, the demons will be gone,” Chu Fan said, his gaze wavering as he looked at her tear-streaked face. With that, he rose to his feet.

Chu Fan then left the Chrysanthemum House, making his way to the mountain where Kagaya Ubuyashiki resided.

“May Lord Phantom Feather’s path ahead be smooth and safe,” Little Chrysanthemum murmured, watching his departing figure—her words a mingling of prayer and farewell.

※※※※※※

Time quickly slipped from afternoon into night. As darkness fell, a demon arrived outside Kagaya Ubuyashiki’s residence.

“So you’ve come at last, Kibutsuji Muzan,” Kagaya said upon hearing the sound.

“What a pitiful sight, Ubuyashiki,” sneered Kibutsuji Muzan, gazing upon the man wrapped in bandages, reeking of decay.

“You… have finally come to me… At last, Kibutsuji Muzan, you who are the demon our family—the Demon Slayer Corps—has hunted relentlessly for a thousand years…”

Kagaya’s words came in broken gasps, as though he were using the last of his strength to speak. Muzan watched the scene unfold in silence.

“Amane… what does he look like?” Kagaya, now completely blind, turned to his wife.

“He appears to be a man of about twenty-five or thirty, with black hair. But his eyes are the deep red of plum blossoms, and his pupils are narrow, like a cat’s,” Kagaya’s wife, Amane Ubuyashiki, replied calmly despite death looming so near.

“I see… so that’s how he looks… I thought you would come. I expect you hate me—hate the Ubuyashiki family—more than anyone else. Of all people, you would come to kill me yourself…” Kagaya said, painting Muzan’s image in his mind.

“I have no interest in you anymore. Such arrogance. After a thousand years of hindrance, your clan’s leader has ended up in this pathetic state. Despicable, how utterly despicable. You’re already reeking of death, Ubuyashiki.”

Muzan’s eyes were cold as he spoke, his tone laced with pride. This was the arrogance of an immortal demon, for humans were simply too fragile. Even someone as monstrous as Yoriichi Tsugikuni lived only a few decades before succumbing to old age.

Though Muzan’s heart brimmed with the superiority of a higher being over the lowly, he was also keenly sensing the auras within the house. Strangely, only Kagaya and his wife Amane were present—no one else, and there was no feeling of being watched.

“Yes, half a year ago… the doctor said I had only days left… Yet, even so, I have lived on… all for the sake of defeating you, Muzan,” Kagaya declared.

“Ubuyashiki, after living this long, do you still not understand? Something impossible will always remain a delusion,” Muzan said coldly, stepping before Kagaya and reaching out his hand.

With a thunderous boom, a massive cache of explosives detonated, shattering the house. The explosion was so loud it could be heard for miles around, and the blaze lit up the night like a beacon, drawing all the nearby Hashira to the scene.

“Ubuyashiki…” Muzan, now mangled and barely recognizable, let out a venomous cry. Hidden within the explosives were countless traps that struck him, meant only to slow his monstrous regeneration for a single second.

Yet, despite these hindrances, Muzan had already recovered most of his strength within ten seconds—no more than five seconds more, and he would be completely restored.

At that moment, several fleshy orbs appeared nearby and burst open, unleashing a multitude of spikes that pierced Muzan’s body. Muzan reacted almost instantly—within two seconds—choosing to absorb them.

“Tamayo?” he muttered, as a woman appeared before him during his absorption.

“I will perish with you, Kibutsuji Muzan,” Tamayo declared, her voice resolute. “Lord Phantom Feather, I leave the rest to you!”

As Muzan devoured Tamayo’s flesh and blood, a white shadow flashed—the blade of the Nichirin Sword turning to mist as it swept through the air, severing Muzan’s head in a single stroke.