I am only going to say this once: These chapters are going to be LONG. No more 3000-word long chapter crap. I'm done with that! We've had three interludes, now we are getting back on track. Now, because of school starting up, Upload frequency will dip—that's a given. However, because of how long these chapters will be, that frequency will dip even more.

We've reached 100K+ words now, so there is no turning back. I want to give you guys some JUICY material to bite into between pauses of uploading. Not to mention I will have even less time to write over the summer since I'm getting a job.

Also, the name of this arc is deliberate. You'll see why soon enough.

No more funny talk, no more stupid business, let's just jump head-first into this mess.

Tommy's laboured breaths echoed throughout the small training ground that Kyojuro had built for them. His chest raised and lowered as he took in each breath, doing so in a manner to control it- to harness it. Total Concentration Breathing was difficult to obtain, however, his teacher—Sensei as they were called here—said he was a natural.

He hadn't known why he was a natural at it. Rengoku said it was because of the honed breathing skills that he had already possessed, but Tommy had absolutely NO idea what he had meant by that. Apparently he just… breathed good.

He still had no idea what that meant, but back then, he was more arrogant about it. More "in your face" about it. Yet, even so, that wasn't him now. The new version of himself was different, especially after all that training Kyojirou had put him through.

All of his hard work and determination built up to this very moment. He had trained to use Total Concentration Breathing fluently as if it came as natural. Practiced all of the forms of Flame Breathing, sans the ninth form, and right here, right now. He was going to prove to Rengoku that all of his training was worth every second.

He was glad that he took the advice of Tamayo. To seek out the Flame Hashira. Sure, he had tricked him for two whole months on where the Swordsmith Village was—and yes he was still mad about that—but he made up for that with a training regimen that changed him forever, and he thanked the man for it.

That didn't mean, however, he liked the training he had to endure. If he had the choice to go back in time and redo it, he'd seek out the first cliff he could find and jump off of it. He despised the training he actually did, but that was mostly because of how tedious it was.

At first, it wasn't so bad. Some stance corrections, how to swing a sword properly without missing 90% of the time. You know, the basics. It only took him a few days to finish that. Then came the training for Total Concentration Breathing, and oh boy, did he HATE that.

The first two weeks were HELL. He had to do 100 laps around a large field next to the training area. Then, after that, he had to do 100 sit-ups, five reps each, then blow as hard as he could using all he could muster to shatter a vase, of which there had been five set up from smallest to largest.

The largest one was up to his waist, while the smallest had been the same size as his foot. Thankfully they were light, but they did NOT want to break. It took Tommy three days to break the first, then another three to break the second. After that, it didn't take him long to break the third and fourth, only a day between each, but the fifth was a BITCH. It took him the rest of the two-week training span for him to shatter the damn thing.

All of that was to increase his lung capacity so that he could take full advantage of Total Concentration Breathing—the main component of any Breathing Technique. If you didn't know Total Concentration Breathing, you were hopeless if you were ever going to make it as a Demon Slayer.

Thankfully for him, it wasn't that much harder than what Technoblade put him through when they were teamed up, but still, it didn't mean he hated those weeks of training.

Strangely enough, though, according to Rengoku, that kind of progress had been extremely rare, and it showed his skill. However, that was nothing compared to the final hurdle he had to cross. It wasn't bad enough that he had to train his lungs to do that constantly, but now he had to breathe in the same way he did while doing the laps, the same way he did doing the sit-ups, while he was sleeping.

To say that he DESPISED that was an understatement.

Each time he failed to keep up his Total Concentration Breathing, Rengoku elbowed his chest. There would be times when he would go sleepless and still have to train. But, he couldn't fault the Hashira. The guy was looking out for him, and as much as he wanted to complain, he wasn't a teenager anymore. He was an adult. Sure he still had his immature tendencies, but that was fine.

In between him breaking pots and using the breathing technique in his sleep, he had practically mastered it within two weeks of his training, with today being his last day of it before they went on to learning Flame Breathing.

Oh, and yes, upon getting his blade, he did, indeed, cut a cow in half. Length-wise, bones and all. It was then when Kyojirou said, in his own words: "There is no need to measure the strength of a walking beanpole that can cut through 1 ton of meat and bone in a single strike."

In other words, even without Total Concentration Breathing. He was a walking, talking, skinny tank. With Total Concentration Breathing, he could cut a tree down in a single strike. Though the blade was the main reason why he was that much stronger. He knew that he couldn't rip a cow in half or knock a tree down in one punch.

Hell, even on the Dream Isles he had to punch a tree, like… 20 times just to get one log out of it.

However, despite that, something boggled his mind even to this day, and it was all linked to the Breathing Technique he was learning, or in this case, learned.

How was he a natural at it when he never even did it, to begin with?

It wasn't like he used this technique on the Dream Isles. If and when he had used this technique before, it would've had to have been his subconscious telling him to do so. Now that he had thought about it, he distinctly remembered the times he used this type of technique, though scarcely.

There was the time during his fight with Dream by the hill when Tubbo had been more than willing to sacrifice himself to protect the discs. The Final War at L'manburg when Philza, his own father—adopted but still—and Technoblade had turned his home city, the place he and Wilbur—someone he saw as a brother—spent years building, into a crater deep enough to make it to the earth's mantel.

That was the day Tommy truly considered himself a walking corpse. He felt nothing after that day. Had it not been for Puffy, Tubbo, and Ranboo, he would've probably ended his life. Everything he worked for, everything he bled for, everything he had almost died for, his memories, his home, his friends—gone. In the blink of an eye, everything he tried so hard to keep from falling, fell.

And it was all because of Technoblade and Philza. While he forgave Phil, even if it was only slightly so, he could never forgive Technoblade. So what if he worked alongside him. It was only for a short time and it was only for him to get back his discs. After that, he was done with him. Sure he never said anything about it, but why did Technoblade have to know that?

But at that junction, near where all the Bombs went off. He saw something inside Technoblade's eyes that he would never forget.

And when Tommy saw Technoblade for what he truly was, it made his spine tingle.

Hatred. Betrayal. Pain. Sacrifice.

He saw all of those things inside Technoblade that day. At that moment, he realized just how badly he had fucked up. But there was no turning back. He now had a target painted on his back. Technoblade was furious, and he had to get the fuck out of that fight as soon as possible.

He knew he was never going to be safe ever again if Technoblade so much as blinked in his direction. He had to go somewhere in which he would be safe. He no longer had anyone in his family left. Wilbur was dead. Technoblade hated him. Philza wanted nothing to do with him.

His whole family hated him. Either that or they were dead. He couldn't look over his shoulder without half expecting a sword being shoved in his face.

So when he heard that Technoblade was in the prison, he rejoiced. He felt alive. That bastard got what he deserved. He could live a life that actually mattered. He didn't have to look over his shoulder constantly anymore. Sure he still had to worry about Philza, but after he put down his sword, he knew that his life would finally be free….

Then not even a week and a half later, they escaped. Both Dream and Technoblade escaped. Tommy had panicked. Two people who wanted him dead for some reason or another were out of prison, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop them. All he could do was bide his time.

But that wasn't even the worst part about them having broken out.

They killed Sam in the process.

Puffy had been devastated—he distinctly remembered her screaming profanities into the sky, as if cursing God for not stopping the two.

But then, just as if everything couldn't get worse for the blond-haired man, everything for him changed in the blink of an eye.

A month and a half later, he found himself here with Ranboo, who had ditched him to go find Technoblade. If Technoblade was here, at least according to Ranboo, then that also meant Dream was in the area.

And now he was back at square zero.

But, eventually, he found someone who promised him protection, and the acquirement of a new skill to boot.

Kyojirou Rengoku wasn't a bad man. He was a tad bit too optimistic at times, but that was about it. He had no real negative qualities, outside of his higher tone of voice and the occasional prank he pulled during a break in between training sessions, but outside of that, the man reminded him of a slightly more mature version of Tubbo. The guy genuinely cared for him. It wasn't an act, which was good. He was tired of people putting on acts.

He remembered the day when he finished his training with Total Concentration Breathing, and he remembered what Kyojirou had said, and what his response was.

"You've done pretty well, Tommy-kun. Although your stance needs to be worked on just a bit, you should be good to learn Flame Breathing. Are you ready?" Kyojirou asked as Tommy looked up at him with determination in his eyes.

"I didn't just put myself through two weeks of hell just to say no. What kind of dumbass question is that?" Tommy said a smirk on his face as Kyojirou crossed his arms with a look of pride.

"Very well then. Tomorrow, we shall begin. Get some well-deserved rest. You're going to need it," Kyojirou said, walking back to the hotel the two had rented out for the past two weeks. It was free, considering Kyojirou was a Hashira and Tommy his student, so that was a plus.

For the rest of that day, he remembered that he had slept, curtains closed and his mind filled with nothing but the thoughts of finally learning Flame Breathing. He had only known Kyojirou for two weeks at that point, but in those two weeks, he proved to Tommy that not only was he trustworthy, but he was safe to be around.

Even after all that hell he put Tommy through, he still cared about Tommy's well-being. Even when he was injured during training, he allowed Tommy to take a break—something Technoblade never did when they were growing up.

And while yes, he did elbow him in his sleep, it was for a purpose. To master Total Concentration Breathing. And he did master it, and he did so in a time-efficient manner—something that even Kyojirou had been shocked by.

And then came the next part of his training. The day when he was on his way to learning Flame Breathing as Kyojirou's Tsugoko.

When he woke up that morning, he had been instructed to meet Kyojirou downstairs on the first floor of the hotel, as Kyojirou had to tell him something important.

Looking back on it now, he remembered that he had been annoyed when he was woken up and wasn't ready for any extensive training. However, when he found out what the first step was, he found it quite funny looking back at it.

The first step to learning Flame Breathing wasn't any extensive training, nor was it some sort of skill task he had to perform, but instead, it was taking up the last name of Kyojirou's, that being Rengoku. At first, Tommy was confused, but Kyojirou told him that only those with his last name were allowed to learn Flame Breathing.

Of course, he eventually learned about Kanroji, and how it didn't count with her since she was a lady—something to do with it being wrong and also highly suspect in the eyes of the country, or whatever—but he didn't mind all that much. It also didn't apply to regular students who wanted to learn Flame Breathing, and yet again, Tommy didn't care.

He wasn't a normal student. He was planning on taking up the title of Flame Hashira after everything was said and done.

He understood why that was, why he had to take the Rengoku family name as his own to continue, seeing as it was a family tradition.

Besides, he didn't have any other family left in his life. This would be a new start for Tommy. And so, without hesitation, he took up Kyojirou's last name as his own, becoming Kyojirou's adopted brother. After writing some legal documents and changing his name to Tom "Tommy" Rengoku, he had passed the first test.

Oh, and he also had to dye the tips of his hair red. Something about his hair looking like it was on fire? Eh, whatever. He didn't care. Now that he was considered Kyojiro's adopted brother, things could finally get started.

However, before that, he was told to never meet his father or younger brother, due to how it would bring shame to the two of them to learn that he passed the tradition to someone without an ounce of blood shared between them—especially if it was a foreigner.

And, once again, without hesitation, Tommy agreed.

And then, he was forced through figurative hell.

Learning every one of the forms was insanely difficult—well, at least the last two were. The first three, not so much.

Form One – Unknowing Fire, wasn't that hard. It took him two or three days to master. Form Two – Rising Scorching Sun, was a bit different, but at the same time, it didn't take him all that long either; five days at best, the same went with Form Three – Blazing Universe. All in all, it only took him a week and a bit to complete that part of his training.

The real kicker was Form Four – Blooming Flame Undulation. He could never get it down right, at least, not for the first bit. It was funny, seeing as Kyojirou had even admitted that this form, the fifth, and the ninth—the sixth, seventh, and eighth were lost to time—according to Kyojirou, was the hardest for him to learn as well. Overall, in order to perfect the fourth form, he had practiced for two weeks.

He was given a bit of break between the training and was allowed to take a breather or two. He used the two days he was given to interact with the locals, try out the foods, and even chat with some of the ladies, who all liked him to a degree.

But when that break was up, he had to get back to training. And that was when he was met with his biggest hurdle. The Fifth Form – Flame Tiger. It was the one form he was dreading to learn. Not because it was the second to last form, but because Kyojirou said that it was the one that everyone who had trained underneath him failed to learn.

The pressure he remembered feeling after that was immense.

Form Five – Flame Tiger, was a combination of Forms one through three, all performed without a single misstep. He failed several times, but he refused to give up. He didn't come this far to give up because of one form. He continued training until his feet bled, and once he perfected it, a whole month had passed and at the end, Kyojirou treated him to a feast.

But his training was not over yet. He now had to learn the final form of Flame Breathing. Form Nine – Rengoku.

The Ninth Form – Rengoku, however, was the hardest one out of them all. Kyojirou said he was only going to teach him the move after Tommy could use all five forms in front of Kyojirou all in a row without stopping once. And to add on to the pressure, he had to do so flawlessly.

Tommy knew he couldn't do it right away. So, he chose the smart option, and he trained himself in the key areas he lacked, notably, his stamina. He worked day in and day out to gain as much stamina as possible. He ran to increase his lung capacity, he did push-ups to get his upper body more in shape, and he did squats to increase his leg muscles. Sit-ups to get his core looking better, and so that he had more protection there.

He also kept to a balanced diet. No more gorging himself. If he was going to take this seriously, he was going to eat properly.

At the end of his training, he dropped the whiny part of himself and left it behind. Why? Because he saw things no man should've witnessed. During his training, he slew multiple Demons that he had crossed paths with, some in the middle of devouring children for fucksake. His blade tasted Demon Blood before he even officially joined the Demon Slayer Corp.

It was horrific. The sights he saw. These monsters were worse than anything he had fought on the Dream Isles. At least there, those things were mindless and did what they did out of instinct. These Demons had thoughts, feelings, and worse yet, were prior humans.

Yet they still chose to prey on innocent children, adults, hell even family.

It sickened him.

During his training, he lost the whiny, jerkish part of himself. It had been replaced by someone else entirely. The Tommy he once was and the Tommy he is now are two completely separate people. There was the immature Tommy that had suffered at the hands of Dream and would do anything in his power to make him suffer. But now, while he still held that same sentiment, he kept it all bottled up, and saved all that anger for when he would slice the man's head off with his blade.

After all, patience was key. Without it, he would never get the vindication of killing Dream.

By the time he had completed his training, three weeks had passed. There was only 1 week until Final Selection, and he had to master the ninth form of Flame Breathing, Rengoku, in that amount of time. But that was after he was able to show Kyojirou just how far he came.

Standing in front of Kyojirou, he got into a fighting stance, his breathing reigned in and focused. There were no chinks any the stance, no way to get him out of it. Kyojirou tested it over and over again just to make sure, then gave him a thumbs up.

Tommy wore a half-white and half-red split Haori, with flame motifs on the white half (the right half) and air motifs on the red half (the left half). Underneath the Haori, he wore a white button-up uniform underneath the haori, and black hakama pants, with black zori.

His hair had grown out long, so long in fact that he put it into a ponytail, permanently dying the end of his ponytail red, as well as his bangs. His natural blond hair went well with the new red-shading, and if one weren't to look too deep into it, he would've looked like a true-blooded Rengoku.

Of course, that was not the case. However, to both Tommy and Kyojirou, things were different. As far as they were concerned, they saw themselves as brothers. Even if they knew each other only for four months, the bond they shared was that of brothers.

"You've come far, Tommy-kun," Kyojirou started, crossing his arms. "After four months of training, you've already mastered a majority of Flame Breathing. While there have been faster, you're the first one to stay alive past this point. For that, I commemorate you, as both a brother and a teacher. But, in order to pass and truly become the next runner up as The Flame Hashira, you must learn the ninth form and master it, to prove to me you are a worthy inheritor of the title of Flame Hashira upon my passing," Kyojirou finished as Tommy nodded silently.

"I understand, Sensei," Tommy said, bowing his head in respect. Kyojirou uncrossed his arms, a smile taking up his strict demeanour.

"Very well, but first, you know the rules. If you can perform all 5 prior forms with grace, and in conjunction with one another, without slipping up, then you may learn the Ninth Form – Rengoku. Got it?" Another nod in response.

"Very well… begin!"

And so he did. It looked like he was carving the sky to look like the jaws of a tiger, then the body afterward. It was the same process that Kyojirou had to endure and to see his pupil undergo the same thing and succeed made the man happy. His only other student like this was Kanroji, who took up her own breathing style after the defeat of the previous Lower Moon 2's defeat—in which a new one had apparently been instated not too long afterward, much to both Kanroji's and Kyojirou's displeasure.

Still, the sight before him looked like a dance. An elegant, perfect dance. Not once did Tommy slip up. Not once did he fumble with his sword. It looked effortless.

When Tommy had finished the task, chest heaving as he breathed, sweat pouring from his forehead, all Kyojirou did was clap and smile. Tommy bowed to Kyojirou, seeing as all of his hard work had paid off. In response, Kyojirou brushed the gesture off "Oh please, no need to be so formal. I'm just glad you were able to do it, Tommy," Kyojirou said as Tommy rose from his bow.

"You know, that was pretty easy, all things considered. Thank you, Kyojirou-sensei, for teaching me this," Tommy replied as Kyojirou placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not finished yet. It's time for you to learn the final form of Flame Breathing. The Ninth Form – Rengoku. Even if my Dad does not know about you, even if my younger brother does not know about you. I do not care. You've earned the right to call yourself a Rengoku. Especially after all the training, I put you through," Kyojirou stated as Tommy smirked.

"Thank you, Kyojirou-Sensei."

And so, for the rest of the day, Tommy practiced the final move in the Breath of Flame arsenal. Four days went by, and Tommy mastered the technique. On the final day before Final Selection, the two shared a hearty meal, and with that, Tommy was sent on his way towards his final destination.

And on the other side of the country, another up-and-coming Demon Slayer would be performing the exact same type of training, except with a different style of breath.

[Three and a half months before Tommy completed his training with Rengoku]

Nezuko parried yet another blow from Kokushibo, not moving an inch where she stood when his blade impacted her wooden one. She gritted her teeth, pushing against Upper Moon One's superior strength. Nezuko jumped back as Kokushibo continued to put the pressure on her.

Their swords clashed, one wooden, one made of Nichiren and flesh. The sounds the two blades made as they collided were nothing short of powerful, sharp echoes reverberating throughout the trial room. Nezuko kept her ground while Kokushibo continued to push. Despite their size and weapon differences, Nezuko still put up a fight, even if the odds looked dire.

The Slayer-in-training moved to the right faster than Kokushibo could track, and slashed at his leg, not leaving anything but an indent. The Upper Moon Demon countered with a strike of his own, knocking her away like a fly. However, instead of landing on her back, she did a backflip in mid-air and landed on her feet. The moment she landed, the two's swords clashed once again, both looking at each other directly in their eyes. Determination in Nezuko's, and annoyance in Kokushibo's.

Neither spoke a word to one another as Nezuko parried his blade once more, knocking it to the side, however, there was not enough of an opening to get to his neck, so instead, she slashed at his upper bicep, knocking him away quite a bit.

In response, Kokushibo caught his blade, and charge at Nezuko. They clashed yet again as the crowd of the Upper Moon's, Technoblade, Dream, and Muzan watched with rapt attention. This was Kokushibo's final trial against Nezuko. The final shot she would have at learning Moon Breathing. If she didn't defeat him right here, right now, all of that training would've been for nothing.

However, it wasn't looking good for the human child. Kokushibo had grown impatient, and through that impatience, he spoke.

"Kamado Nezuko. You are not prepared for learning Moon Breathing. You never will be. Give up. It is futile to continue this display. You've failed."

Nezuko was furious at his words. She did not come all this way just to be told "no." She did not lose Tanjirou just to give up. She did not witness her sister turn into a Demon just to give up. She did not just get her younger brother back from a coma just to give up.

There was no way in hell that she would do that. None, whatsoever.

"Fuck you."

And with that resound statement, she did the impossible.

Everyone, Upper Moons and Muzan included, watched her as she tossed Kokushibo's blade out of his hands with a single upward motion of her blade, much to the Upper Moon's and Kokushibo's shock. Then, in a split second, she closed the distance between the two, reeled back her striking arm, then, with a mighty shout, she struck his neck with the wooden blade, the impact from the blade knocking him to the floor.

When he landed, the ground shook as cracks appeared from the Demon's weight and the force of the blow. Nezuko landed on her feet seconds afterward, her breathing slightly faster than it was before, but not panicked. She took in a deep breath to calm her beating heart as Kokushibo lay there, stunned.

"I don't think I ever told you this, Sensei. But my family, no matter who or what we become, will NEVER give up." Nezuko's voice was ragged after the shout, yet the words still contained that anger and annoyance that her single statement of "fuck you" carried. Her eyes were focused on the Upper Moon who lay on the ground. After a few silent seconds, Kokushibo slowly sat up.

Silence. Pure, silence. The other Upper Moons were shocked that a human with a wooden blade downed an Upper Moon. Dream and Technoblade stared with triumph in their eyes. And Muzan sat on his throne, impressed.

Kokushibo stood up, dusting himself off as he nodded. "I must say. I am impressed. I did not think you had it in you. I should have known better to assume that you were going to give up. Very well then, I believe you have a long road ahead of you. Come, let us return. I shall now teach you all 16 forms of Moon Breathing. You only have three months to complete it. Afterward, you will have one more trial before you. Whether or not you go to the final selection will be determined by that trial."

Nezuko nodded, sheathing her wooden sword as the Biwa Demon, the one that had been responsible for teleporting them in and out of the castle, sent them back to the training dojo. Upon getting there, the training began almost immediately.

Nezuko was given a replica of Kokushibo's blade—his original blade that he had as a Demon Slayer, not the flesh-covered one, its bottom tinted purple, and as such resonated with her—and was thrust into practicing immediately. The first three forms were do-able without Kokushibo's Blood Demon Art, and those three forms were:

First Form – Dark Moon, Evening Palace: The User quickly draws their sword out in a crescent shape, aiming to rip the head off of a Demon, chin first.

Second Form – Pearl Flower Moongazing: The User performs several crescent-shaped slashes, meant for defending the user from any incoming attack.

Third Form - Loathsome Moon, Chains: The User Swings their sword rapidly in two massive crescent slashes, meant for decapitating several targets at once.

Nezuko was able to get those three down pat. However, the rest after the third form required his Blood Demon Art to be used, as they had been altered so severely. They mulled over it for the three months they had left to train, all the while working on knotting out every imperfection Nezuko had in her stances, in her uses of the first three forms, as well as how she held the sword for defensive strikes, and offensive strikes.

But when it came down to the final day before the final trial began, they were put into a bit of a pickle.

"This is… quite the predicament. Isn't it?" Kokushibo said, scratching his head. "If I am going to be honest with you, Nezuko, I never thought you'd make it this far. That, and Moon Breathing has become so intertwined with my Blood Demon Art that I can't ever imagine separating it from my Blood Art."

"You don't say?" Nezuko responded with a quip as the two sat beside one another in thought. It was then that Nezuko had an idea. "Oi, Sensei. What if you gave me one of those flesh blades? Would that work?" The young Kamado thought as all of Kokushibo's eyes widened, then immediately fell back to a squint.

"It would, in theory. However, there is something I must warn you about. While these three forms alone are more than enough to carry you through the Final Selection, if you truly intend to master Moon Breathing and carry with you one of my flesh blades, I must warn you about this," Kokushibo started, creating a blade from his skin and putting it in front of Nezuko.

The blade was the same size as the main blade, though the top half of the blade was covered in eyes, as was the hilt. All of the eyes were looking in various directions, but when they saw Nezuko, they closed.

"That blade is a part of me, and at the same time, is a Nichiren sword. It will not combust during the day, however, the more you use it, the more it changes you. The more you use it, the more demonic you will become. To put it simply: Using this sword for a long period of time in a battle will convert you into a Demon. Each time you take hold of the sword, the effects of the blade will remain. Sheath it, and the effects will revert, but only if you haven't used it collectively for over 48 hours. After that point no matter if you sheath it or not, the effects will not revert. Continue to use the blade for another total of 72 hours, and you will fully convert yourself into a Demon. But, that is only if you use that blade for a total of 120 hours. It keeps track of each hour you spend with it. The counter does not reset, either. It stores the time within it, and once you've reached a certain point, you will become a Demon," Kokushibo finished as Nezuko stared at the blade, sweat forming on her forehead.

"Of course, as I said, the first three forms of Moon Breathing will be all you need. They are powerful enough in their own right to take out swaths of Demons. Upon using the flesh blade, the rest of the forms will come to you as if they were natural, and they will generate the crescent blades from each form. Just keep in mind what I said before. Do not overuse the blade. That includes during this up-and-coming trial."

Nezuko nodded, snatching the blade and putting it into another sheath also given to her by Kokushibo. "Yes, Sensei. I understand," Nezuko replied as Kokushibo stood up.

"Follow me, then. I've done everything I can to train you. Now, you must face your final trial. Failure is not an option. Understand?" Kokushibo stated as Nezuko shot up to her feet, sheathing her main blade before nodding.

"Yes, Sensei!" Nezuko said, bowing. Kokushibo smirked before turning around and beginning to walk, Nezuko following close behind. As they walked, they quickly approached what appeared to be an arena. As she looked down at the arena, she saw that it had been surrounded by the Upper Moons, The Lower Moons, Dream, Technoblade, and Takeo.

All of them were seated or in the Upper Moon's case, standing. And sitting atop his throne was Muzan, wearing a suit and tie, a white bowler hat with a black stripe going through the middle, and a red scarf going around his neck.

A sinking feeling wormed its way through Nezuko as they made it to the arena. Kokushibo joined the rest of the Upper Moons in the stands, and as soon as he did, Muzan stood up from his throne and walked towards the edge of his podium that overlooked the arena. And when he did, Nezuko felt far smaller than she ever had in her life.

"Hello, young Kamado. I've heard your training has gone well, has it not?" Muzan questioned as Nezuko looked up at the Demon King and responded.

"Yes, sir. It has."

The Demon King smirked, looking all around the arena, spreading his arms out in an all-encompassing gesture. "Tell me. Do you know what your final trial will be? Has Kokushibo told you yet?" Muzan asked as a pit began to grow in her stomach.

"No, sir. He has not. He has not even told me what type of trial it will be," Nezuko stated, looking around the arena. Was she going to have to fight all of the Lower and Upper Moons in order? Was it an endurance round? She truly didn't know.

And to that, Muzan's smirk widened as he lowered his arms to his sides. He got into a crouching position atop his podium, and leapt, landing a few feet away from Nezuko, shocking the teen as her eyes widened. Taking off his bowler hat and throwing it back towards his throne, a mighty flux of wind blew behind Nezuko as Muzan's scarf and hair blew in the wind like a flag.

"Your final challenge, Nezuko Kamado, is to pin me down for ten seconds using anything you can. If you win, you get to go to The Final Selection. If you fail…." Muzan's grin turned sinister, and his eyes narrowed. "I will turn you into a Demon, wipe your memories, and send you out as a thrall."

-To Be Continued-