Demon Slayer: Upper 0 seems to be a waste

Chapter 295 Burning

Silence, too long a silence.

The whole world became quiet, so quiet that Rinko had never felt the world was so quiet before.

The silence was eerie; he couldn't hear anything, or rather, he couldn't feel anything at all. His last memory was of blinding light, too bright, followed by intense heat that swept over him, burning him terribly. But before he could even feel it, he lost control of his body.

It took Rinko a few seconds to realize that it wasn't that it was too quiet here, but that he had lost his connection with the world. The fact that he couldn't feel anything was not an illusion, but a real reality. The power of the explosion was too strong, and he was too close. He had no reaction and was not prepared at all. He was almost curious about how many intact parts of his body he still had, but he didn't know. His consciousness lingered in darkness, and he had completely lost control of his body.

How much explosives did Ubuyashiki actually use?

Rinko couldn't help but be curious about this.

He had heard before that humans would use gunpowder to make fireworks, which would be beautiful, but also very noisy, because they were essentially still made by igniting and exploding gunpowder.

Besides, gunpowder can also be used to make explosives, which are small in size but powerful weapons. However, Rinko has never seen them, nor does she have either of them. Perhaps she does, but at least she doesn't remember them now.

However, he thought that even if he didn't remember, even if he had no comparison, he could at least tell how big the explosion was, almost the same as the range that Kokushibo could reach when he was chasing him.

Everywhere you look, there are flames soaring into the sky.

With so many flames and such a large area, it must have taken a lot, but the amount was probably more than just a little, because he didn't even have time to hear the explosion before it was all over.

His eardrums shattered in the first second. He couldn't even feel the pain clearly because his body was shattered almost the next second as well. Blood loss was a sensation, similar to the feeling of his body being severed, but he didn't see any of it; it was just a vague impression.

Besides that, the clearest impression is probably that fragrance, the fragrance of wisteria flowers, and the fragrance on Shinobu's body, the kind of fragrance that remains after years of being mixed with wisteria flowers, the blood of ghosts, and the blood of humans.

Why did I smell that scent at that time?

Rinko didn't know, and didn't know either.

He couldn't tell what was going on. Maybe his injuries were too severe, or maybe he was already dead. He had never experienced either of these things, so he couldn't tell what it was. All he had left was his mind, so he could only think and try to remember, just like when he was trapped in the dark, all he could do was take a step and start walking in one direction to see if he could get out.

The final few seconds of the scene were clearer than I had imagined. It seemed that my mind remembered those crucial moments more clearly than my conscious mind: Ubuyashiki's composure, Amane's calmness, and the surprise on Muzan's face. It was more surprise than anything else; he probably hadn't expected Ubuyashiki to have planted so many explosives in the house and was planning to detonate them with the intention of taking everyone down with him.

Secondly, there was anger, perhaps because he hadn't had a chance to kill Ubuyashiki with his own hands, or perhaps it was the frustration of realizing that it was all a trap, the anger of realizing that he had been led and deceived by humans.

But Ubuyashiki was ultimately just a human, and such an explosion was indeed astonishing. But Rinko thought that Muzan would at least not have been killed by such an explosion; demons don't die so easily.

Not to mention Muzan.

As for him, he didn't really care about his own life or death. He just hoped that if he wasn't dead, he would be better off alive. Just like this moment, he kept thinking and recalling, hoping to find a clue that would allow him to find a way out of this dark forest.

Even if it's just a spider's web, he'll grab it and pull himself out.

Explosions are supposed to be noisy, but Rinko had no memory of any sound, which undoubtedly proved just how powerful this explosion was.

None of the people inside could escape. In fact, by the time they realized what was happening and rushed out, it would probably have been too late to outrun the flames and the explosion.

Ubuyashiki and Amane would probably be reduced to ashes, not even bones left. Such flames might have burned them to ashes, like demons who have seen the sun.

Rinko almost found the idea hilarious.

The leader of a group obsessed with killing demons, Ubuyashiki, ultimately died under the 'sun' he himself buried, which was set ablaze at night. Like a demon, he was burned to ashes by the raging fire, leaving nothing behind.

Not only will the bodies be left behind, but the entire mansion and the surrounding area will likely be affected.

This isn't exactly bad news; at least the wisteria flowers that Muzan dislikes will also be burned to ashes in the flames.

It burned out completely.

Rinko's thoughts paused briefly for half a second.

So, will Muzan also be burned?

Will he feel this isolation from the world? Will he also have his eardrums shattered, be engulfed in flames, and have his body broken apart in that instant?

This idea is like a thorn that has taken root, leaving its mark deep within the heart, drawing blood, growing wildly, and tearing the heart apart with each bite.

Muzan won't die, at least not in this explosion. So what happens after that?

Humans are so cunning, will this explosion be the end of it all?

Even ghosts know that a trap is followed by an even more dangerous battle; how could humans not know that?

He had been too complacent, living a peaceful life for too long, and had forgotten just how dangerous and cunning humans really were. He had only just realized how utterly reckless and arrogant humans were.

But in that instant, he almost felt like a human being that this was the end, and he no longer needed to worry.

"Once you die, all ghosts will be destroyed, right?"

These words rang in his ears without warning.

He could almost remember how stiff Muzan's expression was when he uttered those words, how intense the sense of oppression was, and how shocking it was.

Before that, Rinko thought that statement was nonsense, but Muzan's expression, reaction, emotions, and the oppressive feeling that involved him were undoubtedly proof.

Ubuyashiki was right.

If Muzan is killed, all the demons will die.

Rinko doesn't care about dying. He can die, but Muzan can't. It's not because he would die if Muzan died, but because he doesn't want Muzan to die.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Will I die?"

"You won't die unless you're exposed to the sun or your head is chopped off by a demon hunter."

"If I avoid sunlight and ghost hunters from now on, will I be able to survive?"

"right"】

fraud.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The heart was the first to recover; it is the origin of life. On the broken body, the remaining limbs grew little by little: bones, nerves, muscles, body, neck, limbs, and head.

Before my five senses returned, the first thing I felt was pain. My heart was gushing blood out of my broken limbs, and as the blood flowed, something else was flowing almost simultaneously, causing a stinging pain.

pain.

It hurts so much.

More painful than broken bones, more painful than severed limbs, with each breath and heartbeat scraping against the blood vessels and muscles. Something existed within the flesh and blood, and Rinko instinctively wanted to grab it, but her body could not move, not even an inch.

When his hearing returned, he heard a sound, initially blurry, then gradually clearer, a piercing sound, a woman's voice, yet it seemed very familiar.

He recognized the man's voice; it was Muzan's.

After the ears came the eyes. When Rinko opened his eyes, he belatedly realized what had happened during the time he was unconscious. Just as he had feared the worst, it was a trap, not the end, but the beginning.

The woman kneeling on the ground had her arm grabbed by Muzan. Rinko tried to blink, trying to see clearly. After blinking several times, his blurry vision became clear. His blood dripped down, but his vision finally became clear.

He saw the dense thorns surrounding him, like a thicket of brambles, piercing Muzan's body and his own. The pain he felt with every breath and every heartbeat was not an illusion, but evidence of those thorns growing inside his body.

Muzan appears to be only temporarily immobilized. This is a Blood Demon Art, and he will likely absorb it soon, escaping from this blood prison. The woman will also pay the price for it.

But why is there a woman here?

Rinko felt like his brain was starting to overload again.

The woman raised her head and shouted at Muzan. His eardrums were punctured, and he could only hear the voice and see the face after his eardrums recovered.

Those eyes.

Ah, no, not a woman.

It's a ghost.

"Yes, it shouldn't have been possible to make it before! But the situation is different now! We have to thank you for bringing Rinko over! If it weren't for you, the medicine probably wouldn't have been so effective!"

Ah, that sound.

He remembered it; it seemed to be someone he knew.

Blood dripped as he opened his mouth; the thorns had pierced his throat and were still growing before they healed. Blood dripped from his mouth, mumbling his words. He couldn't utter accurate syllables, but at least he had attracted the attention of the two men.

Muzan seemed alright, but the woman's face showed shock, followed by more complex emotions that Rinko couldn't understand.

"haven't seen you for a long time."

This was the first accurate sound he could produce.