Emmanuel_Capricorn
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DS : Chapter 132
🕑 Added 2025-01-26 16:29:12 +0000 UTC[Seiji's POV}
'How long has this been going on?'
The tendrils were a blur of speed that my eyes could barely see. What had started with one had now become six as they whipped at me with neverending momentum.
It was not just their speed either but also their random pattern that made it extremely difficult to see them. There was no system in the action action, each one moved like it had a mind of its own and I suppose that was true considering Muzan had five brains.
Having five brains meant more than just reducing his weakness. It also allowed him to process information at frightening speed and he was able to control each individual tendril without relying on instinct or muscle memory.
'It has not even been an hour yet it feels like forever,'
The onslaught was straightforward and intense. I always prided myself in my ability to excel in a face-on battle, maybe some might say that I had gotten arrogant. My eyes, my genius and my perfect training had never betrayed me in this regard. If I were struggling with an opponent, it meant that they had tricky abilities or they were exploiting my weakness.
Never had an entity faced me in my strongest front and dominated me quite like the Demon King was doing.
'Maybe I should run now. I'm sure Tanjiro and his family are already safe,'
My thoughts were chopped up. I could barely find time to think of one sentence now and then because he onslaught required all my focus and attention. I didn't have time to come up with strategies, didn't have time to ponder on a plan or even despair at the situation.
Every working part of my brain was focused on the flashing tendrils that were just a blur as I tried my best to stay alive.
It was the first time my eyes had failed me.
'I can't run. He is infinitely faster than me. My only hope is to wait for the sunrise and that's,,,,hours away,'
I didn't even have time to calculate the time.
My arms numbed and the number of attacks I was able to block reduced. I was forced to move back - which proved to be difficult when I couldn't hear. And I dodged as many attacks as I could and stepped out of range from more.
On the other hand, Muzan was fully covered in Demon marks. He was naked but with the lack of private parts - like a titan. He looked absolutely calm as he strode forward with grace and elegance.
He looked like he was merely taking a stroll.
Four tendrils had popped out from his back, the origin and the tip of the tendril had a hard shell made of bones. They were bones sharper than any blade I had ever seen. Muzan also reshaped it every time it was chipped so they remained like a razor.
And those razor ends shot at me with the force and violence of someone swinging a Warhammer. Our clash produced bright sparks like fireworks. I was being pushed back, my feet sank to the ground with the force of each attack.
The difference in our overall power was clear. The gap was unfathomable to me.
But not everything was hopeless because, with the ongoing battle, I believed I had grasped the essence of the Demon King.
I knew him now.
Clearer than I'd ever known him. Because you see, fighting was a conversation and he had told me almost everything.
Muzan Kibutsuji was not a fighter in essence. I guess that was to be expected when you went from a sickly man to the strongest being in the world overnight. There was no skill or experience to be gained on that journey.
Only Yoriichi was the one who could challenge him and look how much that one instance traumatized him. This showed an immense lack of determination and resolve to be considered a warrior. He had never trained before in his life and that was also why he leaned on to using all his brain to control his tendrils, doing things manually.
In warrior terms, Muzan was a baby with the power of a nuclear reactor.
I learned his nature through the battle. He was completely dominating me and yet he never made the effort to end the battle. Instead, he revelled on the superior might he had over me. It was like I reminded him of someone and he was doing this, enjoying the act of dominating me to soothe a wound from long ago.
And yet even with all the power he had over me, he was always far away. It was why I could move out of range from his tendrils. Even with all the power he had over me, he was scared deep down. It was not caution because people do something if they are cautious. He did nothing except prepare himself to run.
I noticed his habit of not moving his right arm while he swung his left when he walked. All of his hearts seemed identical to me but from the way he was protecting his right side, I deduced that those were vital than the rest.
His seven hearts beat together in synch which gave him explosive burst of power. But the flow of blood from that allowed me to predict which part of his body he was going to move next to a certain degree.
His body was perfection. I could not see any weakness or flaws even when he changed his flesh to suit him in battle. But that perfection made it obvious - the flaw in his fighting style. It was like watching a shit driver on a sports car.
The tendrils were his safe means of attack. Each of them seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved manually and not on previous training so that made it hard to predict them. With six of them, that was almost more than a million combinations of attacks so memorizing them was out of the question.
What I did notice though was they were not working as one entity. That meant sometimes three tendrils attacked me all at once, sometimes none at all. Those create openings. So it was giving me openings in exchange for unpredictability.
Unlike what others think, perfection in a fight is predictable. So his unpredictability was due to how far he was from being perfect.
He was perfect in all but body. A golden goblet with urine.
I also took note of the fact that he never aimed for my sword. He always went after the part of my body that was furthest from where my sword covered. He was limiting himself to his area of attack by doing that. But I suppose that was just a by-product of each tendril being controlled individually by a brain.
...
Endless amounts of information brew in my head, making my head throb in pain. I had never focused so hard on a fight before and I was glad that I had no one to protect or think about.
The only problem was that I never got the chance to return the attack. I was given no chance to utilize the information I had.
Fight was more than just raw power so I had a chance no matter the gap. He might overwhelm me in power but I did the same to him in terms of skill.
If fighting was a debate, then Muzan was talking with no time limit. I did not have time to rebut as he talked endlessly. His turn was forever.
What I needed was a moment of respite. I needed even just a few milliseconds of time to think of a plan. I needed a set of movements that was other than defending.
I needed an ally who could divert Muzan's attention from me so that I may have a chance.
'Had Raven found a Hashira? I sent her out way before Muzan came upon us so help should come soon, right?'
But until then, I could do nothing but try to survive the onslaught.
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