He was annoyed.
Extremely annoyed.
He had only just been able to discover the location of the Kamados. It had been a tiresome process, having Nakime search all over with her Blood Demon Arts, plus having killed many lower demons in his anger when they had been unable to give him information.
But they were only disposable, mere pawns in his plan to become the almighty being, perfect without a single flaw. He had already conquered beheading, the sun was the only blockage left on the road to being truly immortal.
And now, as he stood in the snow, a man clad in the uniform of the Demon Slayer Corps and a strange half-and-half haori before him, hand gripping a Nichirin sword tightly, he had a strong urge to kill him.
Anyone who got in his way.
He turned to the wooden house standing in a clearing ahead.
Instantly the man attacked, sword slashing down in a blur of blue.
Muzan lazily waved a hand, his arms elongating and growing sharp spikes. They whipped around wildly, hitting trees and sending snow spraying up into the air. Surely the man would get diced quickly. He wanted to make short work of him if possible.
"Water Breathing Fourth Form: Striking Tide."
The spikes were knocked away as the man leaped again, moonlight winking off his blade. Muzan attacked once more, spikes managing to graze the stranger's cheek, a few more embedding themselves deep in his appendages. They grit their teeth, yanking the spikes out and keeping up his fight.
"Water Breathing, hm? Your technique is quite refined, are you a Hashira?" Muzan asked quietly.
The other said nothing, slipping between the spikes whipping at him, slashing them and kicking them away so Muzan couldn't regenerate immediately. There were times when the stranger was able to nick Muzan's clothes, landing a few cuts ranging from shallow to quite deep but he couldn't get close enough to cut his head. Not that it would even work on the Demon King. He'd regenerate anyway.
(timeskip as I suck at writing fight scenes)
Muzan was getting increasingly impatient. This guy was taking too much of his precious time.
Also, his suit was ruined.
He shuddered to think that he'd have to tailor another one from scratch.
He'd have to kill this bothersome nuisance.
He reached out, grabbing the slayer hard around the middle so his ribs snapped, dangling him a fair few feet above the ground.
"I have to congratulate you for lasting this long against me. What's your name, slayer?"
The other glared at him, blood dripping out from the corner of his mouth, (broken) sword still clutched tightly in his hand. "Y-you're Kibutsuji Muzan, aren't you?"
Muzan grinned, seeing he knew his name. "Yes, but it's not like you will be alive for much longer, so does it even matter to you?"
Daily updates for now :)