Muzan: My daughter can't be that weak!

"Lord Muzan, Lord Doma and the priestess have arrived."

As Nakime's voice echoed in his mind, Muzan was looking down at a still-warm human corpse at his feet.

"We're here, so what? Do you expect me to personally oversee things and do the work for them?"

Why should he constantly pay attention to a mere battle where the upper moons switch positions?

If even this requires his personal supervision to proceed, then these useless people have no reason to exist.

He is in a terrible mood right now.

And the root of this frustration, after going around in circles, eventually returned to the little fool.

Illiterate, illiterate, he's actually illiterate!

Upon reflection, whether she is illiterate or not makes no essential difference to an individual who is a ghost and possesses eternal life.

Strength is the ultimate measure of everything.

A powerful illiterate is far more valuable than a learned but weak person.

But for some reason, every time the image of that idiot looking up and saying "I'm illiterate" popped into his mind, a feeling of frustration would get stuck in his chest and he couldn't shake it off.

How could someone of his blood be a blind man who can't even read properly!

It's simply... a disgrace to him.

However, putting his idea of ​​finding her a teacher into practice only worsened his already bad mood.

He tried several efficient selection methods.

The first method is to directly abduct scholars who are renowned in human society.

The results of it,

Those gentlemen who usually talk big and act dignified are terrified and make a fool of themselves once they see his inhuman nature.

That groveling, begging manner—where is the slightest trace of a teacher's demeanor?

This kind of weak-willed, low-character wretch doesn't even qualify as his food, let alone anything else...

It's a waste of his time, and even more so, a waste of his blood!!

The second approach was to adjust his strategy slightly and shift his focus to those tougher, more resilient individuals.

But the result only made him angrier.

The moment these chosen humans realized he was a demon, their reaction was not fear, but disgust and resistance.

They glared angrily, cursing the ghosts as deserving of death. Before he could say another word, some of them drew their short knives or crashed into beams and pillars, committing suicide on the spot to prove their innocence.

Outdated! Foolish! Incomprehensible!

What he gave was eternal life and power that transcended flesh and blood and broke free from the constraints of time.

But what about them?

Either your dignity is crushed by fear, like this corpse on the ground.

They either cling to their own opinions and are eager to embrace death, as if so-called integrity is more valuable than life itself.

They can't even see this much value, and they don't even have the courage to seize the opportunity...

He's truly beyond redemption...

Isn't it good to be alive?

He doesn't understand, and he's too lazy to understand.

Could it be... that he really has to personally teach that little idiot to read?

"How do you pronounce this word?", "What does that word mean?", and countless other childish and ridiculous questions that may follow.

Just imagining that scene made Muzan feel his patience would evaporate instantly.

……never mind.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

Perhaps, we could just have Nakime find some basic human education books and throw them at her, letting her just look at the pictures and guess what they mean?

Or... simply assign a literate upper-class magistrate to handle this task.

Anyway, there are always those guys who are bored out of their minds.

When Muzan's figure silently appeared on the highest stand, the bloody battle below had already begun.

He stood in the shadows, indifferently looking down at the two figures below.

He had no interest in the battle itself.

The priestess's abilities are decent, but if she could be more pragmatic and run the shrine and amass wealth like she did in human times, she might be of greater value.

As for Douma... the Bliss Cult did provide him with a stable and substantial source of funding, which was its only redeeming quality.

Aside from that, his fake smile and mindless words only made him unpleasant and noisy.

However, in the end, the Twelve Ghost Moons were just a tool for him to search for the Blue Spider Lily.

Whoever is stronger and more useful will stay.

That's it.

The battles below are nothing more than the self-refinement and elimination of tools, and are not worth his further attention.

"Ara ara~"

On the platform below, Doma seemed to sense something, and suddenly glanced quickly upwards, his face instantly breaking into a smile that was almost blinding.

"Lord Muzan has finally come to watch the battle!"

Doma said excitedly as he nimbly dodged a tricky attack.

"How exciting! To be able to let so many friends, and even Lord Muzan, appreciate my dashing figure at this moment..."

What an annoying guy...

At a time like this, he can still put on that fake smile; his mind is full of attention-seeking.

Impatience welled up in the witch's heart. She stopped waiting and couldn't be bothered to listen to any more nonsense.

"Blood Demon Art: Sevenfold Bone Prison"

As soon as he finished speaking, the seven bone rings, as if they had a life of their own, wrapped around Douma's limbs and torso at an astonishing speed, and then tightened suddenly.

Click, click...

"Huh?"

Doma lowered his head, looking curiously at the bone rings that tightly bound him.

"What's this new trick? It looks pretty impressive~ Uh... I see... it's the sound of bones being crushed~"

He felt a shattering pain coming from his body.

An ordinary ghost would probably have lost the ability to move after suffering such a severe injury, but he just tilted his head slightly, savoring the novelty brought by the pain.

"But, Miss Shrine Maiden, my regenerative abilities... are quite strong, you know."

"That alone won't kill me."

"Too verbose."

The witch frowned even more deeply, her fingertips twitching slightly, as if she wanted to urge the bone ring to undergo further changes.

But in that instant, Douma flipped in mid-air, breaking free of his restraints. With a wave of his golden fan, he exclaimed, "Impressive! But this is what makes it interesting. My turn! Blood Demon Art: Manlianhua!"

The ice crystal vines grew wildly, with ice lotuses blooming at their tips, and strangled the witch.

He stood aside, observing the other party's response with great interest.

But the priestess didn't even look at the ice tendrils.

"Blood Demon Art: Breath of Void Eclipse"

She simply stood there, and when the ice vines touched within three feet of her, they hissed.

Strange grayish-white patches appeared on the surface of the ice crystals, then spread rapidly and weathered away.

Wow, that's even more amazing...

"This isn't ordinary corrosion." Doma tilted his head, his eyes flashing with excitement.

The priestess spoke coldly, "You can tell."

"Because I'm very smart. But you can't win with just defense, Blood Demon Art: Crystal Child."

Five ice crystal clones appeared from different directions, each wielding a different colored ice blade and launching an attack.

Doma himself then leaped into the air, his golden fan unfurling:

"Let me see how this elegant shrine maiden will handle attacks from multiple directions at once!"

"Yeah?"

Before she finished speaking, the ground beneath the shrine maiden's feet suddenly began to boil.

Five humanoid skeletons rose from the ground, each clad in a tattered white priestess robe, holding blades that extended from their own bones.

"Blood Demon Art: Bone Imprint," she said softly.

The moment those ice clones came into contact with the skeletal clones, the seeds of decay were planted in them.

The seeds have sprouted.

The next second, it turned into ice crystals.