Within the subterranean refuge of the Demon King: the Infinity Castle.
The remaining Lower Moons of the Twelve Kizuki were gathered in the shifting halls, all groveling before the supreme being standing above them.
The Demon King, Muzan Kibutsuji.
“Have you still not located the rogue demon who devoured Rui?”
Muzan glared down at the kneeling Lower Moons, expecting these glorified tools to deliver at least a shred of useful news.
Yet the trembling demons were about to disappoint him thoroughly.
“R-Report, Lord Muzan!
N-Not…
not yet…”
Muzan’s expression, already sour, turned completely pitch-black with murderous fury.
“Useless trash.
Rui was pathetic for dying, and what have the rest of you accomplished over all these centuries?!
“Whenever demons fall to the Hashira, it is always you pathetic Lower Moons, while the Upper Moons have remained unbroken for hundreds of years!
“And now, you cannot even track down a single rogue demon on the loose!
What possible reason do you have to exist?!”
Muzan’s venomous words made the kneeling Lower Moons shudder in paralyzing dread, scrambling to defend their lives.
“L-Lord Muzan!
We were practically on the verge of cornering him!
It was only because this sudden summons interrupted us that—”
Lower Moon Two’s desperate excuse fell upon deaf, psychopathic ears.
“Are you implying that I am at fault?
That I was mistaken to summon you when you were supposedly close?”
Enraged beyond reason, Muzan sprouted a grotesque, muscular limb, crushing and devouring Lower Moon Two on the spot.
“What right do insects like you have to question my decisions?
To suggest that I made an error?
Have you forgotten your place?
“I am never wrong.
Whatever I decree is absolute truth; if I declare it correct, it is correct.
“The only failure here is your own worthlessness!
Why did you fail to capture him before I summoned you?!
“Why are you Lower Moons so disgustingly frail?
“Why can’t you handle the simplest assignments without daring to question my judgment and claim I am mistaken?!”
Spitting venom, Muzan systematically slaughtered the Lower Moons one after another, sparing only Lower Moon One.
“From this day forth, the Twelve Kizuki has no need for the Lower Moons; the Upper Moons alone are sufficient.
“Do you have any final words before you die?”
Confronted by the tyrant’s suffocating pressure, Lower Moon One, Enmu, flushed with twisted ecstasy.
“Everything you say is absolute perfection.
Being executed by your own hands feels like the sweetest dream.
“Listening to the dying shrieks of my brethren brought me absolute bliss~~
“Because watching others writhe in agony and despair is my favorite pleasure in this world—it feels just like a magnificent dream.
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving me for last.”
Looking like a deranged maiden, Enmu whispered his depraved confessions, only for Muzan’s barbed whip to pierce cleanly through his throat.
A massive surge of demon blood pumped violently into his veins, immediately corroding Enmu’s internal organs.
The searing agony forced Enmu to writhe across the tatami floor like a salted slug, the sheer cellular destruction choking the screams in his throat.
Muzan, however, smirked with cruel satisfaction.
“I appreciate your attitude.
I shall grant you a generous portion of my blood—though if your body cannot endure it, you will simply dissolve and perish.
“However, should you adapt to this power, you will gain strength beyond your imagination.
“Then, you will serve me: hunt down that rogue demon and slaughter him.
“Destroy the demon who escaped my control, and I will reward you with even more of my blood.”
Such was the twisted reward granted by Muzan; Enmu writhed in euphoric worship, basking in the agony.
With a single strum of Nakime’s biwa, Enmu was ejected from the Infinity Castle.
To Muzan, subordinates did not exist; they were disposable tools built to serve his desires, and defective tools deserved to be discarded and replaced.
He felt zero remorse over exterminating the Lower Moons, nor did he mourn Rui’s demise.
(Rui died because he was weak, wasting centuries playing house instead of fulfilling my expectations.
(Yet a Lower Moon was slain not by a Hashira, nor in a Blood Battle for rank, but by a rogue demon free from my control!
(Infuriating!
Unforgivable!
I was the one who elevated you above mere mortals!!
I granted you an immortal, eternal vessel!!
And you dare defy my dominion and raise your blade against me?!!
(Unforgivable!!
Absolutely unforgivable!!!))
“Nakime.
Summon Akaza.”
To Muzan, an uncontrolled demon who grew stronger by cannibalizing other demons was a far more existential threat than all nine Hashira combined.
Such an anomaly had to be purged immediately.
Meanwhile, inside the private bathhouse of the Ubuyashiki estate, completely oblivious to his place on Muzan’s hit list, Horne was relaxing in the steaming water, enjoying the intimate pampering of a noble beauty.
Because Kagaya had formally entrusted Amane into Horne’s care, she was now his woman in everything but official title.
Horne certainly wasn’t going to let an opportunity for pure indulgence slip by.
In his compact energy-saving form, Horne sat on a low wooden stool while Amane used her porcelain-white naked body to gently scrub him clean.
This had been Horne’s explicit request, and Amane had complied without resistance.
“You could have easily refused if you truly hated it, yet to keep me bound to your cause, you willingly offer yourself as my woman.
“I respect that unyielding resolve of yours, and it works like a charm.”
“I am honored by your praise, my lord.”
Even while performing such an intimate service, Amane maintained an unreadable, serene poker face, treating it purely as a sacred duty assigned by her husband.
Horne knew her heart wouldn’t be won overnight, but with such exquisite meat served to his lips, he was definitely going to feast.
Feelings grew over time through shared nights; once she experienced how extraordinary a real man was, she would naturally fall for him.
“My lady, don’t forget to clean down below~”
“Yes, my lord.”
Standing barely five feet tall, Amane possessed the typical petite frame of Taisho-era noblewomen.
Yet she was deliciously endowed in all the right places, boasting the thick, ripe ass unique to a mature mother of five.
A petite frame meant delicate, slender hands; as high-born nobility who had never done a day of hard labor, her skin was infinitely softer and smoother than ordinary women.
Being pampered by such velvety, delicate hands brought Horne immense physical delight.
Though Amane kept her face composed, the faint blush creeping up her cheeks and delicate ears betrayed her inner turmoil.
She had seen muscular male bodies before in her line of duty, but a man’s intimate root was something she had never laid eyes on aside from her sickly husband’s.
As her trembling fingers wrapped around that monstrous, vein-ridged cock that defied his boyish stature…
The sheer length, terrifying girth, throbbing iron hardness, and scorching heat were communicated entirely through her palms.
(…It’s completely different from Kagaya’s…)
Try as she might to suppress the thought, she couldn’t stop herself from contrasting this colossal monster against her husband’s frail, meager member.
Comparison bred awareness, and the sheer disparity was staggering, steadily awakening the dormant, primitive woman buried deep within her.
Not to mention the dense cloud of male pheromones radiating from Horne’s skin—to any woman, it acted as a potent, odorless aphrodisiac.
It chipped away at her noble inhibitions, stoking the wet embers between her thighs.
As she stroked and washed his length, Horne pulled her into a deep, commanding kiss.
His long, prehensile demon tongue slipped past her lips, tangling with her sweet tongue, drinking in her warm saliva as he thoroughly explored the wet cavern of her mouth.
Such an aggressive, domineering kiss was something Amane had never experienced in her sheltered life; the sensation of being completely mastered by a dominant alpha male stirred a thrilling mix of submission and raw pleasure in her chest.
When Horne finally released her swollen lips, her porcelain poker face was thoroughly flushed crimson, panting with breathless desire.
Tonight, the main course on Horne’s menu was this exquisite noble wife.