Demon Slayer: Muzan, will you dance too?

The demon blood seeping into the body was wantonly destroying the body's cells. Bloodletting to detoxify might have some effect, but slight local mutations still appeared. The flesh at the wound site had begun to twist and deform.

As Kiyokawa Izumi's arm, which was gripping the Nichirin Blade, gradually lost strength, he could clearly see that both his physical strength and reaction speed were far inferior to what they had been a few minutes earlier.

The situation was so bad, or rather, there was never any sign of it getting better.

Facing Muzan in his Demon King form alone, without anyone to cooperate or share the damage... was it ultimately too much for him?

Defeating this person in front of me seemed like an impossible task from the very beginning.

Even without using other abilities or trump cards, these waving tentacles alone are enough to pin him to the spot, making it difficult for him to launch an effective attack.

Kiyokawa Izumi has become acutely aware that this is where his limits lie.

That's the best we can do.

"call--"

A throbbing wound, a body nearing its limit.

Everything seemed to be telling him that he had done his best.

Falling into the Infinite City without warning already sealed their fate of defeat.

If you don't concentrate fully, your vision will become blurry, and it will be difficult to maintain a clear state.

Such a posture is truly pathetic.

How much longer can it last? Half a minute or a minute?

Giving up and waiting to die is not in his nature.

He couldn't accept being killed in such an end.

As his thoughts raced, Kiyokawa Izumi, no longer focusing on defense, chose to charge forward from the front to Muzan.

The attacks came down like a storm, so numerous and varied that they were difficult to see clearly for a moment.

There were several obvious wounds on his chest or arms. The most fatal wound was a gash that ran from his left chest to his lower right abdomen, with blood gushing out and large pieces of flesh being scraped away.

His tattered clothes on his chest were already stained blood red, and the amount of blood loss made his face even paler.

Twenty steps!

Fifteen steps!

Despite paying such a price, the distance between Kiyokawa Izumi and Muzan is rapidly closing.

Even if he couldn't kill the one before him within the range that the Nichirin Blade could cut, Kiyokawa Izumi was determined to teach it a lesson.

It was only a distance of fifteen steps, which was covered in the blink of an eye.

Despite being pulled to such a dangerous distance by a swordsman with high attack but low defense, Muzan showed no fear or tension on his face. He simply stared indifferently at the laughable ant in front of him.

The moment their eyes met, Kiyokawa Izumi knew in his heart that Muzan was not intimidated and seemed to be in control. Was he preparing to reveal other trump cards?

I understand it, but the arrow is already on the bowstring, and I have no choice but to release it.

Now that we've already reached Muzan, it would be rather ridiculous to back down because we're afraid of his trump cards.

Change happens in an instant.

The surrounding wooden floorboards shattered, half an arm flew into the air, and hot blood gushed out. Kiyokawa Izumi, almost belatedly realizing what was happening, was already severely injured in less than a breath.

What exactly happened?

Kiyokawa Izumi, whose pain was palpable and whose facial expression contorted in agony, seemed to have unwittingly fallen into Muzan's trap.

This cunning and treacherous fellow seems to have deliberately let him get close to him.

The leg whip, much faster than the tentacles and hand whip, lashed out. Even though she was prepared, at this distance, Kiyokawa Izumi, whose condition was declining, could not withstand the attack head-on.

The right arm holding the Nichirin Blade was severed almost instantly.

This is not the most dangerous part.

His head was also within the range of Muzan's leg whip attack.

If it weren't for his subconscious reaction that caused him to turn his head, he would probably be a headless corpse by now.

It's certainly a good thing that he didn't die.

But the price he paid for it was too high for him to bear.

The right side of the face that was rubbed looked as if it had been scraped off.

Not only that, his right eye was also affected and could not be saved.

The blood-red Sharingan exploded in an instant, instantly obliterating half of the view in front of the eyes.

"Luring me closer, then suddenly unleashing a faster leg whip... Ha... What a simple and direct tactic."

There's nothing we can do about it.

His opponent's strength was far superior to his, so even with some suspicion and precautions, Kiyokawa Izumi had no choice but to take the risk.

"I wonder who looks more like the demon now..."

Seeing Kiyokawa Izumi bleeding profusely and his face contorted in agony, Muzan couldn't help but mock him.

This guy has no respect for his opponents.

It's normal to be ridiculed or insulted.

"Do you think you've already won?"

Having caught the Nichirin Blade falling from mid-air, Kiyokawa Izumi, with a premonition, swung what might be the last strike of his life while still severely injured.

Like hundreds of overlapping sword strikes, carrying the momentum of a desperate gamble, it slashed wildly towards Muzan.