Chapter 258: Poison

Is Kibutsuji Muzan strong?

Yes.

His terrifying regenerative ability is the most formidable Li Mo has ever encountered. Even more frightening is that his regeneration consumes almost no physical energy, making him akin to a perpetual motion machine.

Where does the energy for his regeneration come from?

This is a serious question. If this mystery could be solved, humanity might enter an era of infinite energy. Such a prospect would be beneficial, as human conflicts could then be seen as disputes over energy.

If only Kibutsuji Muzan were an inanimate object. But no, he possesses his own thoughts and desires.

When the eight whip-like tendrils attacked, Li Mo didn't panic. Although his vision barely caught the attack, another sense had already "seen" it.

—To see is to nullify.

「Spell of Thororm」!

Once again, Kibutsuji Muzan's attack was rendered useless.

Magic from another world had delivered a devastating blow to Kibutsuji Muzan. Indeed, the advantage Kibutsuji Muzan held in terms of physicality was despair-inducing. Only sunlight could truly destroy him. But that was all.

Beyond his physical prowess and the Blood Demon Art inherent to demons, Kibutsuji Muzan had nothing else.

The Third Form of Sun Breathing came effortlessly to Li Mo. The Second Form was continuously executed, creating an impenetrable net around him.

"What is that thing of yours?!"

Something incomprehensible had appeared.

The whip-like tendrils emerging from Kibutsuji Muzan's back were part of his body. The tactile sensation of skin was absent from these weapons of mass murder. The moment they touched Li Mo's body, they became powerless.

—Yes, powerless.

A force from somewhere unknown had turned his deadly strikes into harmless feathers. How could this be? How could his attacks become like toys in a child's hands?

The flames on Li Mo's Nichirin blade were closing in. Kibutsuji Muzan stared at this fox yokai, utterly baffled by the means he employed. Could it be the legendary magic? But what kind of magic could render one so powerless?

No, there must be a weakness.

This yokai swordsman's Sun Breathing wasn't particularly strong. It was far weaker than Yoriichi Tsugikuni's from hundreds of years ago. That monstrous swordsman's Third Form of Sun Breathing could have killed him outright.

Li Mo never answered Kibutsuji Muzan's question. He wasn't some answer-giving alien who had to provide explanations.

In fact, the battlefield's dynamics had subtly shifted. Li Mo sensed Kibutsuji Muzan continuously retreating, though the distance between them hadn't changed noticeably.

The Bright Red Blade was steadily intensifying, slowing Muzan's regeneration by a few milliseconds. Was it still far from Yoriichi's level?

Wait, Kibutsuji Muzan's attack frequency seemed to be decreasing. Was he planning to run?

Li Mo's eyes flickered as he spoke, "Kibutsuji Muzan, do you know of the Norse?"

"What does mentioning foreign lands have to do with anything now?"

The thousand-year-old demon king had never left Japan. But with the arrival of the Black Ships, all Japanese had to remove the hands covering their eyes and look at the world.

Europe, he knew of it. But what did Europe have to do with the battle unfolding in Japan?

"In Norse mythology, there was a warrior named Thororm. Legend has it that any weapon that struck him would lose its sharpness.

This is the basis of my spell. But, to my shame, the spell only lasts for three minutes. Tell me, Muzan, can I kill you within three minutes?"

Three minutes. This was the information Li Mo revealed to Kibutsuji Muzan. As the battle raged on, his mind was frantically calculating.

The toughness of Muzan's body, the speed of his regeneration, the lethality of the Bright Red Blade against him. Even the magical output enhancing the "solar attribute" of his Nichirin blade...

All these data points were being computed in his mind. This thousand-year-old demon king had lived for so long, yet his combat skills were laughably crude. Li Mo had reason to suspect that Kibutsuji Muzan's abilities hadn't changed in centuries.

Time had no effect on him. He had never realized the value of time. After nearly being killed by Yoriichi Tsugikuni, why hadn't he strived to improve? With such a powerful demonic physique, why hadn't he trained?

Li Mo thought of Akaza. Many of his martial techniques relied on the superhuman physique of a demon. Analyzing those battles now, as long as one's physical abilities met the standard, those techniques could be mastered.

Sighing—

The Nichirin blade in his hand grew increasingly "sharp."

A gentle breeze continued to swirl around the two combatants, yet none noticed. The breeze was so soft, so light, it could only stir the finest dust.

Under the moonlight, particles in the air became faintly visible. Kibutsuji Muzan noticed them, but dust in the air was normal. The ferocity of his opponent's attacks kept him from realizing that the number of dust particles was unusually high.

Wait!

Why hadn't his tendrils regenerated yet?

Kibutsuji Muzan noticed a detail. Tendrils that would have regenerated instantly minutes ago now took one or two seconds to heal. Moreover, the regeneration was draining his energy.

That colored blade of his!

The flames corroding the tendrils didn't matter, as ordinary flames couldn't harm Kibutsuji Muzan. Only the sun in the sky could destroy him.

But.

But!

Hundreds of years ago, the swordsman named Yoriichi Tsugikuni had inflicted wounds on him that burned like the sun. Even now, those scars still ached.

Could his blade really grow to this level in just a few minutes?!!

Fear had replaced anger. The being known as Kibutsuji Muzan wanted to flee, just as he had centuries ago.

But his opponent was a yokai.

The snow-white tails stood erect. Kibutsuji Muzan had no idea how long a yokai's lifespan could be.

No matter. The world was vast. If necessary, he could leave Japan... Asia was huge. He could go to Europe, to the Americas. Even Africa wasn't out of the question.

In a flash.

Kibutsuji Muzan lost the will to fight.

Then, it was time to split...

At that moment, Kibutsuji Muzan made an unexpected discovery.

—He couldn't split!

"How is this possible?! When did you poison me? Wait... the air!!!"

Kibutsuji Muzan finally noticed the gentle breeze that had been swirling around the battlefield. The breeze should have blown in one direction, never to return. But now, he realized. All the gentle winds here were revolving around him.

A vortex.

No, a whirlwind?

But such a weak breeze couldn't be a whirlwind.

From the moment the battle began, he had been immersed in air filled with poison!!!

Now it was clear why this man had killed Nakime so quickly. It was to prevent him from using her Blood Demon Art to escape.

Had he planned all of this?

In that moment, Kibutsuji Muzan's mind was in chaos. His will to fight had almost completely dissipated.

"Kokushibo!"

The thousand-year-old demon king called for his most trusted subordinate.