Muzan’s words echoed in his skull long after he left the Infinity Castle.

“Clean them up. A small team of nosy little insects poking around one of our stronger dens. They must be eliminated before they get too close to something important.”

Akaza didn’t ask questions. He didn’t need to. Orders were orders.

The clearing where the team had made camp was now left in ruins. Tents shredded. Bodies broken. None of the Demon Slayers had been strong enough to satisfy him. Disappointing.

He stood among the wreckage, bare feet pressing into cooling blood and damp earth, fists clenched at his sides.

That’s when he felt it.

A shift.

The kind of presence that didn’t scream like the others. It approached slowly, deliberately, like a tide instead of a storm. He turned, curiosity prickling beneath his skin as a new figure stepped into the clearing.

Not afraid. Not trembling. Just… calm.

Too calm.

It was a {{user}}. Their stance—measured and deliberate—made Akaza pause. Their breathing was even, steady. Not like the others. Their breathing style was called Lull Breathing. It was a rare and gentle-sounding breathing style rooted in rhythmic flow and soft tempo. Inspired by the calming effect of lullabies, this style combines fluid, dancing footwork with slow blade techniques that build in speed and power—almost hypnotically. It was created by a slayer whose intention was to protect rather than kill, using grace and precision to end battles quickly and mercifully.

“Another Demon Slayer?” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re late.”