In Demon Slayer With Heavenly Insight

Chapter 23: Song of the reaper

Another bad guy.

Ren subconsciously tightened his grip on the Nichirin Blade. Things were spiraling out of control, faster than he could have imagined.

From what Ren understood, demons rarely worked together unless ordered by that person. They thrived on chaos and conflict, their alliances fragile and temporary. Yet, here he was, staring down two lower moons who seemed more than capable of tearing apart even seasoned slayers.

It wasn't his strength he doubted, but Ren worried about returning home injured and raising suspicions in Kanoe's mind. He didn't want to worry anyone, especially her. Every time he returned from a mission, her concerned gaze lingered on him longer than it should. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing her eyes clouded with worry again.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly closed his eyes.

"Wakarube! Why didn't you save me earlier? I'm your superior! You bastard!" Rokuro raged, his voice echoing through the dimly lit room. His tone was filled with frustration and despair, every word dripping with venom.

Wakarube sneered, his lips curling into a mocking grin as he stepped on Rokuro's dissipating head with disdain. "Because once you're gone, I'll be next in line. Hahaha!" His laughter was sharp and cruel, the kind that made Ren's skin crawl.

In the corner, Mukago wept silently, offering no defense for herself. Her frail form trembled under the pressure of the moment, tears streaming down her face.

This was the true nature of demons—they were selfish to the core, willing to betray anyone for personal gain. Rokuro, once a domineering figure, now faced the ultimate betrayal. There was no camaraderie among them, only the cold, calculated instinct to survive at any cost.

As Rokuro's head faded into ash, he glared at Ren with all the hatred he could muster. He couldn't understand why this human hadn't run away but had instead gone straight for his neck.

If it weren't for that Nichirin Blade… If Ren hadn't been there…

But regrets were meaningless now.

Rokuro let out a bitter laugh, his voice filled with mockery and despair. "I'll wait for you in hell!"

His final words left an eerie silence in the room.

Mukago shivered, clearly unsettled. Her sobs grew quieter, yet her eyes darted around nervously, searching for an escape. Wakarube glanced at Ren, his expression darkening as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

Ren, however, stood motionless, his eyes closed. He seemed neither ready to attack nor to flee. His presence was calm, yet the tension in the air was palpable, like a storm waiting to break.

But inside his mind, Ren was operating at full capacity. Time slowed down for him, every movement around him becoming painstakingly clear.

This was bullet time.

Normally, Ren avoided using it due to the toll it took on his mental energy. The world around him moved like a slowed-down reel of film, every frame dissected in perfect clarity. But facing two lower moons simultaneously left him no choice.

Opening his eyes, Ren exhaled deeply, his presence shifting into something darker and more ominous. His grip on the Nichirin Blade tightened, the weapon feeling like an extension of his body.

Wakarube and Mukago exchanged glances, hesitation flickering in their eyes. For a moment, neither moved. Then, as if silently agreeing, they rushed at Ren from opposite directions, their Blood Demon Arts flaring with deadly intent.

But to Ren, they were moving in slow motion.

Every step, every muscle twitch, every angle—they all unfolded like a complex equation before him.

[You discovered a demon. Their dirty tactics disgust you. Observation skipped.]

[You analyzed their body structure. It's vile. Observation skippe.

[You saw a demon crawling toward you. It was pathetic. Observation skipped

[You dodged their attacks, your body adapting to their rhythm. Insight gained: New technique created—Demon Steps!]

[The opponent used the Blood Demon Art: Ghost Mist. You couldn't comprehend it but imitated it. New form created—Bee Breathing: Fourth Form, Song of the Reaper!]

[Observation complete. Nothing else worth analyzing.]

Ren smirked as he stirred his Nichirin Blade. In a burst of speed, he unleashed hundreds of slashes in just two and a half seconds.

There were One hundred and fifty six notes,same amount of tendons and slashes.

The room echoed with the screams of Wakarube and Mukago.

To Ren, this was an art form. His sword was the brush, and the demons were his canvas. Each strike was deliberate, severing bones with surgical precision. His movements were fluid, almost graceful, as if he were performing a deadly dance.

For a full minute, their screams filled the room like a macabre symphony. The sound bounced off the walls, a haunting reminder of the difference between them.

When the blade was finally sheathed, Ren stepped back, leaving a trail of severed bones scattered across the floor.

The demons were reduced to boneless heaps, their limbs unable to support them. Their Blood Demon Arts faltered, dissipating like smoke in the air.

"You... Why are you so strong?!" Mukago wailed, her voice a mix of fear and despair. Her trembling hands clutched at her sides as if trying to hold herself together.

Wakarube remained silent, but his expression revealed the truth—terror. His confident smirk had vanished, replaced by wide eyes and a pale complexion.

If this human could dismantle their bodies with such precision, what stopped him from taking their heads?

The realization left Wakarube in a state of shock. For the first time, he understood the vast chasm between himself and someone of Hashira level.

"Why... Why can't I kill Hashira while they can kill us so easily?!" Wakarube muttered, his voice cracking with frustration. The words felt heavy, almost like a plea for answers.

Ren, now sitting cross-legged on the ground, sighed. The battle had taken its toll, not physically but mentally. He rubbed his temples, his eyes half-closed as if fighting off exhaustion.

"Save your strength," he said, his tone sharp but calm. "If I didn't still need you, you'd already be dead."

He glanced at Mukago, his gaze piercing. "And you, stop crying. It's ugly."

Mukago whimpered but tried to muffle her sobs, her hands trembling as she wiped away tears.

As Ren closed his eyes to rest, a sharp chill ran down his spine.

Before he could react, something cold and sharp pierced his back.

***