Chapter 7: The Upper Moon’s Dance of Shadows

The moment Saitama stepped forward, Tanjiro could feel the pressure in the air shift. It wasn't like when Giyu or Rengoku stood their ground — this was something else entirely. It felt like standing next to a boulder that had no intention of moving for anyone.

Kagenami, Upper Moon Six, studied Saitama with those empty, glowing sockets. The demon's body constantly shifted, his skin turning into ribbons of shadow that slithered and reattached themselves every few seconds. His very presence felt wrong, as if reality itself was rejecting him.

"Strange," Kagenami said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have no blade. No Breathing. No Demon Slayer Mark. And yet…"

His shadows rippled in confusion. "You erased Lower Moon Five like you were swatting a fly."

Tanjiro's hand trembled on the hilt of his sword. "Saitama-san, Upper Moons are nothing like Lower Moons! Be careful!"

"Got it." Saitama gave a thumbs-up without turning around. "Hey, Shadow Guy, are you gonna fight or just talk?"

Kagenami's mouth stretched into a thin, unnatural smile. "Arrogance is an amusing flavor."

In an instant, the shadows beneath Saitama's feet sprang to life — dozens of dark tendrils lashing out like spears. They moved faster than most Slayers could react, each one sharp enough to cut stone and steal the light from anything they touched.

Saitama… didn't move.

The tendrils struck his clothes, ripping his sleeve slightly, but his skin — completely unharmed.

"Huh." Saitama inspected his torn sleeve with mild annoyance. "This was my only clean outfit."

Kagenami's smile twitched. Tanjiro, from a distance, saw something terrifying — Kagenami flinched. Upper Moons didn't flinch. They were the ones who made others tremble.

"Water Breathing, Fourth Form — Striking Tide!" Tanjiro leapt into action, slashing through some of the shadow tendrils to clear a path for Saitama.

"Hey kid, you didn't have to do that." Saitama casually stepped over the slashed shadows. "I was about to punch them."

"Please focus, Saitama-san!" Tanjiro's eyes were sharp, sweat forming on his brow. "Upper Moons can regenerate instantly, and their Blood Demon Arts—"

Suddenly, the entire village darkened. Kagenami's body expanded, his form splitting into hundreds of smaller shadow copies — all of them grinning, all armed with jagged blades formed from their own flesh. They moved together, forming a storm of blades and shadows that rushed toward Saitama and Tanjiro.

Tanjiro braced himself, switching to Hinokami Kagura stance — but Saitama stepped in front of him.

"This looks annoying." Saitama rolled his shoulder. "I guess I'll actually try."

Serious Sideways Slap.

He didn't even punch. Saitama simply swung his hand sideways, palm open, like swatting a mosquito. The air itself bent around his hand, creating a shockwave so intense that every single shadow clone was obliterated instantly — their bodies torn apart by sheer force before they could even scream.

The real Kagenami reappeared, staggering backward, half his face missing. His regeneration kicked in, but it was slower than before. Tanjiro realized it — Saitama's attack wasn't just brute strength. It carried something else… a weight that interfered with the demon's very existence.

"You… monster…" Kagenami hissed, voice shaking for the first time in centuries.

"Nah, just a guy who does hero stuff for fun." Saitama cracked his neck again. "You're pretty weak for an Upper Moon."

Kagenami snapped. Shadows erupted from the ground, forming a massive serpent-like creature that swallowed Saitama whole.

"SAITAMA-SAN!" Tanjiro shouted.

For a moment, silence.

Then—

BOOM.

The shadow serpent exploded from the inside, chunks of black matter flying in every direction. Saitama stood in the center, completely unharmed, casually dusting off his cape.

"Your attacks feel like getting hit with a pillow," Saitama said, frowning. "And not even a good pillow."

Kagenami roared, his body unraveling into a swirling tornado of blades and shadows, covering the sky itself. It was a technique no Hashira had ever survived. His voice, filled with hatred and desperation, echoed:

"Dance of Eternal Night: Thousand Cuts Funeral!"

The storm descended toward Saitama like a falling sky — sharp enough to slice even Nichirin blades into dust.

Saitama yawned. "Okay."

He jumped.

Just jumped.

And the shockwave from his takeoff alone shattered the entire storm into harmless mist.

Tanjiro's jaw dropped. Kagenami couldn't even react before Saitama appeared above him, fist raised.

"Serious Punch."

The fist descended.

The earth cracked. The sky shook. Kagenami didn't even have time to scream before he was completely vaporized — body, soul, Blood Demon Art, everything.

The only thing left was a crater, and Saitama standing at the center of it, looking mildly bored.

Tanjiro fell to his knees, both from relief and exhaustion. "That was… Upper Moon Six… gone."

Saitama stretched. "Alright, let's find that grocery store."

Tanjiro, still processing everything, could only nod weakly. "R-Right."

As they walked away, far above them, a small floating eyeball silently observed the battle. Somewhere deep in the Infinity Castle, Muzan Kibutsuji sat in his chamber, fingers steepled, eyes narrowed in thought.

"A human… who can destroy Upper Moons… without a blade."

For the first time in centuries, Muzan felt something new.

Fear.

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End of Chapter 7