Demon Slayer : Breath of The Forest

In the dimly lit room, Douma, dressed in the robes of the Eternal Paradise Cult's leader, sat obediently like a well-behaved child, his faint smile still lingering on his face.

The Eternal Paradise Cult, though small in number of followers, had three locations, with its members scattered across them.

Not long ago, the Osaka branch of the cult had been destroyed in the aftermath of a battle, forcing Douma to relocate to the current Saitama branch.

To him, it made no difference—it was merely a change of scenery where he could continue listening to the foolish prayers of his equally foolish devotees.

However, the figure standing before Douma now was not one of those incomprehensible, idiotic followers.

Instead, it was a sharp and imposing silhouette.

A patterned waistcoat, a white top hat, neatly pressed trousers and slightly curled black hair.

"You're saying there are two unfamiliar Demons? Ones with strength comparable to the Upper Moons?" A cold, indifferent voice rang out as an overwhelmingly terrifying aura slowly gathered in the dim room.

Yet, Douma seemed entirely unaffected by the suffocating pressure.

Instead, his body began to sway slightly with delight.

'Ah~ It's been so, so long since I last saw Muzan-sama~ He remains as magnificent as ever~' Douma thought to himself.

At the same time, he spoke in a playful tone.

"That's right~ One of the Demons even became a Hashira in the Demon Slayer Corps. I originally planned to capture this peculiar little thing and present him to you, Muzan-sama~ But then another strange Demon suddenly appeared~ Quite powerful, too—almost on par with Akaza~ With dawn approaching, I had no choice but to retreat regretfully~"

As he spoke, Douma lowered himself further, grinning.

"I'm so useless~ Please punish me, Muzan-sama~ Hmm, you could even cut off my head if you'd like~"

Swish!

The figure before him swiftly turned around, revealing crimson vertical pupils that resembled those of the most fearsome dark lord.

An aura of dread, enough to make any Demon tremble, radiated from his entire being.

His cold face bore only deep frost and his gaze, looking down at all living things was as if they were mere lower lifeforms.

"Your head? Do I have any need for it?" Muzan Kibutsuji voice was icy, his eyes filled with disdain as he regarded Douma.

He had never liked Douma demeanor, nor his hollow emotions.

Slash!

No sooner had he spoken, several fleshy tendrils erupted from Muzan's body, lashing out like lightning toward Douma.

Naturally, Douma noticed this, but he remained motionless, allowing the tendrils to pierce his body—even his temples.

Squelch!

Whether the tendril had penetrated deep into Douma brain was unclear, but Douma let out a soft moan as the tendril wriggled inside his skull.

Soon, images began to reflect in Muzan crimson pupils.

When he saw Shinichi in his Demon form, Muzan frowned.

Unlike Shinichi, who harbored deep hatred for Muzan, the latter had no recollection of Shinichi whatsoever.

Over a thousand years, the number of humans who had died by Muzan's hands was beyond counting.

Yet, the familiar aura emanating from Shinichi stirred something in Muzan memory.

A figure from centuries ago gradually overlapped with Shinichi's image.

"Moriki? That infuriating brat!" Muzan spat with disgust.

Centuries ago, he had sensed by chance that a demon could survive in sunlight.

At that time, Muzan was nearly driven mad with excitement—if he could devour that demon named Shunichi Moriki, why bother expending effort to search for the Blue Spider Lily?

But when Muzan finally found Shunichi Moriki and eagerly devoured half of him, he was stunned to discover that the so-called "sunlight survival" merely involved shedding most of his demonic power like a cloak draped over himself, while his true form remained as weak as a frail human.

It was like expecting a delicious bite of cake, only to taste a cow dung instead.

What enraged Muzan even more was that the little bastard Shunichi Moriki had managed to slip from his grasp.

This was utterly unacceptable.

Now, sensing that familiar presence again, Muzan could hardly contain his fury.

But when the 'Martial' Demon surfaced in Douma memories, Muzan pupils constricted, his tone shifting from anger to disdain and revulsion.

"Has the sewer rat finally shown its tail? Heh, Maito, after hiding for a thousand years, you couldn't resist anymore, could you?"

Meanwhile, Douma—pierced through by the tendrils—still wore a smile on his face.

As the tendrils churned in his skull, he recalled many long-forgotten memories.

"Mmm~ Kotoha-chan, such a familiar name. Ah, I remember now—a very cute but foolish woman~"

...

Demon Slayer Corps Headquarters.

Three months after the disappearance of The Forest Hashira Shinichi Moriki, the sorrow within the Corps had gradually faded.

After all, sacrifice had always been the Corps' defining theme.

Every day, swordsmen gave their lives to slay demons and over the centuries, countless Hashira had fallen.

Inside the Butterfly Mansion, Kanae Kocho delicate brows furrowed as she watched the small figure in the room with concern.

"Shinobu, are you really alright? If something's troubling you, you can talk to your sister. Don't torment yourself like this" Kanae said gently.

Thanks to the timely arrival of the Wind Hashira Sanemi Shinazugawa and the Wave Hashira Sabito, Kanae had been saved.

Though she bore many lingering injuries that weakened her combat ability, her life was no longer in danger.

After two months of recovery, she could once again wield her Nichirin Blade.

Upon waking and learning of Shinichi's possible death in battle, Kanae was devastated—especially upon hearing that he had sacrificed himself to cover Shinobu and her own escape while she was gravely injured.

The guilt weighed heavily on her.

But what pained Kanae even more was how deeply Shinichi's presumed death had affected her younger sister, Shinobu.

After returning to the Corps, Shinobu had locked herself in a dark room for an entire month.

When she finally emerged, everyone who knew her was stunned.

The once impulsive and fiery Shinobu seemed to have had her soul replaced.

Now, she wore a gentle smile at all times, her tone soft and soothing, devoid of its former sharpness.

Draped in her butterfly-patterned haori, the Demon Slayers almost mistook her for a miniature version of Kanae Kocho.

Logically speaking, such a change wasn't a bad thing.

Shinobu Kocho seemed to have matured, showing concern for the injured at Butterfly Mansion and taking special care of other team members during missions.

Her efficiency in slaying demons had become exceptionally high.

However, in the eyes of her closest sister Kanae, the seemingly calm and gentle Shinobu appeared to be suppressing an overwhelming amount of negative emotions deep within her heart.

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