Chapter 47: Darkness

In the midst of the chaotic aftermath of the monster stampede, a figure emerged, consumed by a wrathful frenzy. It was Arthur Lock, clad in a gleaming suit of light silver armor, adorned with the stains of battle and the remnants of his fallen foes. His long, broadsword, glistening with the blood of monsters, gripped tightly in his hand.

Arthur's eyes burned with an intense mix of anger, frustration, and desperation. His unkempt hair, matted with sweat and dirt, clung to his forehead, emphasizing the wildness of his appearance. The muscles in his arms bulged with tension as he swung his sword in furious arcs, hacking and slashing at the already slain drake with relentless brutality.

"God fucking dammit!" he bellowed, his voice filled with a volatile mix of rage and anguish. The words erupted from his lips, carrying the weight of his pent-up frustration. His chest heaved with each breath, betraying the seething storm within.

His quest for vengeance consumed him, fueling his relentless assault. He struck the monster's lifeless body with unyielding determination, each blow reverberating through the air with a resounding thud. The ground beneath him trembled in response, as if echoing his fury.

Through gritted teeth, Arthur raged against the absence of his target. "I heard he was just here a few moments ago! Where's that fucking bastard?" His voice cracked with a mixture of pain and fury, his words laced with a deep-seated desire for retribution.

A surge of uncontrollable energy coursed through his veins, pushing him beyond the limits of reason. The once calm and composed knight had been consumed by an all-consuming obsession, fixated on the elusive figure of Lukeas, now known as Arthur Lock. The weight of their past encounter, the near-fatal encounter, haunted his every thought.

In a display of sheer frustration, Arthur's boot connected with the lifeless drake's massive body, propelling it forward with a thunderous force. The colossal creature hurtled through the air, demolishing trees in its path, a testament to the unbridled strength dwelling within Arthur.

But the physical assault was only an outlet for the turmoil that raged within his mind. His movements became erratic, his eyes darting around as if searching for an invisible foe. Fingers curled into fists, he unleashed a volley of expletives, as if engaged in a furious argument with an unseen adversary.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" he screamed, his voice filled with a mixture of defiance and despair. The cacophony of his own curses drowned out the surrounding chaos, his deranged shouts carrying an air of desperation and delusion.

With each passing moment, Arthur's sanity hung perilously on the precipice, his eyes ablaze with an ever-intensifying madness. In a swift pivot, he redirected his attention towards the stampede, hurtling himself into the heart of the chaos. In his wake, the life of every creature unfortunate enough to cross his path was swiftly extinguished.

As he engaged in his frenzied combat, a startling transformation overcame Arthur. His sword erupted in flickering flames, yet the fire seemed to have no effect on him, merely intensifying the danger and ferocity of his attacks. The inferno engulfing his blade danced with a malevolent energy, casting an eerie glow upon the swirling snowflakes.

Within the midst of battle, Arthur unleashed three distinct skills, each more formidable than the last. The first was a colossal burst of flame, a conflagration that erupted from deep within his being. Flames billowed forth in a searing torrent, consuming everything in their path and reducing his adversaries to ash.

The second skill harnessed the fury of the heavens themselves. With an outstretched hand and a primal command, Arthur summoned a powerful lightning bolt from the sky. It crackled with an otherworldly energy, a celestial force that coursed through the storm-laden clouds. In a blinding flash, the bolt descended with unerring accuracy, striking down the enemies Arthur desired to see dead.

But perhaps the most chilling of all was Arthur's ability to manipulate the spilled blood on the battlefield. With a twisted mastery over the crimson tide, he commanded it to rise and obey his sinister will. The once life-giving essence of his fallen foes now became his weapon, lashing out with dark tendrils, ensnaring and ensnaring those who dared to oppose him.

Amidst the chaos of flames, lightning, and the macabre control over spilled blood, Arthur stood as an embodiment of relentless fury.

"LUKEAASS!!"

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Lukeas found himself seated on a traditional Japanese cushion, the warmth of the tatami floor seeping through the fabric. Before him, a small table held a wooden cup filled with steaming tea, its aroma wafting gently in the air. His gaze shifted forward, and there, standing before him, was the person who had opened the door earlier. The sight of her left him utterly awestruck.

'I can't believe it... It's really her...' Lukeas thought, his hand trembling as he reached out to grasp the cup of tea. The porcelain clinked slightly against the table as he steadied himself.

"Oh, poor boy. Look at your hand! It's trembling! You should have knocked earlier and not spent so much time hesitating!" another voice chimed in, this time from the side.

Lukeas turned his head and saw a lady entering the living room, carrying a tray of simple yet comforting food. A bowl of steamed rice, a pair of chopsticks, and a steaming bowl of vegetable soup adorned the tray.

"Here, eat up well!" the lady said warmly, her smile radiating kindness. "Once my son returns from the town, he will be very happy to meet you."

The woman had a noticeably light complexion, her kind, dark purple eyes shimmering with a lighter hue around the rims of their irises. A small beauty mark graced the left side of her face, just below her lower lip. Her black hair was elegantly tied back in a slightly messy bun, with a few loose strands gently framing her features.

She was dressed in a purple and cream checkered kimono, adorned with a white, long-sleeved kappōgi over the top. A white tenugui cloth was wrapped around her head, covering most of her hair.

"Also, Nezuko, go put the others to sleep. It's already getting late," she instructed, directing her gaze towards the girl who stood before Lukeas.

Lukeas turned his attention to the girl, taking in her petite figure and fair skin. Her soft-looking, pale pink eyes held a lighter shade around the rims of their irises, slanting gently downward towards the sides of her face. Cascading waves of long, black hair flowed down her back, reaching just below her waist.

She wore a light pink kimono adorned with a delicate hemp leaf pattern, its lining a paler shade of pink. A red and white-checkered hanhaba obi cinched her waist, accented with an orange-threaded obijime. Over her ensemble, she wore a long, dark-brown haori that gracefully fell to her calves. Completing her attire were a pair of zōri with pink straps and white tabi socks, wrapped with thick pieces of black material resembling kyahan

"Sure, Mom!" Nezuko replied, standing up and excusing herself. However, before she could fully leave, Lukeas called out to her and everyone present in the room.

"We have to leave... now," he said with a serious expression. Thoughts raced through his mind, questioning the consequences of his actions. 'Am I doing the right thing? If I save them, Tanjiro might not become a slayer... and the timeline will be disrupted. But-'

"What are you talking about, silly child? The storm is quite stron-" Kie, Nezuko's mother, interrupted his thoughts.

"There's something much worse than the storm coming! I'm telling you, we have to leave!" Lukeas insisted.

"Child, how about you rest for a while? Maybe we can-" Kie started to suggest, but her sentence was abruptly cut off by three consecutive knocks on the door. Nezuko's eagerness to answer the door overwhelmed her caution. "I'll get it!" she exclaimed, thinking it was her brother returning.

"No, Nezuko, don't-" Lukeas began, but his words were drowned out by a loud crash as the door was forcefully pushed open. Nezuko was propelled backward, colliding with the other side of the room.

"I found you at last... Kie," a man in black emerged from the doorway. He wore a white fedora, his eyes mirroring the color of blood. The atmosphere around him reeked of bloodlust, overpowering the room.

Lukeas' eyes widened, recognizing the dangerous presence before him. 'Its him! MUZAN!'

"Now.. Tell me where is the blue spider lily?" muzan asked in a calm tone. Yet his presence grew stronger to suffocating degree. "Or do you want me to forc-"

Lukeas no longer hesitated and unleashed every ounce of power within him, leaping forward with all his might, his focus concentrated on his clenched fist. Although he couldn't activate his second gear as it requires a few seconds of activation so, he channeled all his mana into his right fist, preparing to deliver his most devastating punch.

As he reached Muzan, he unleashed his attack with full force. However, just as he anticipated, Muzan effortlessly caught his fist, resulting in a resounding boom and a faint crack as Muzan was pushed back a single step. Lukeas stood there, shocked, as Muzan's expression transformed from one of indifference to furious rage. In a swift motion, Muzan grabbed Lukeas by the throat before he could attempt to escape.

Muzan's eyes roamed over Lukeas' body, his voice devoid of emotion. "Interesting... Is it a mutation? Modification? A gift from God... Too bad you met me," he chuckled darkly. "But since you were able to push me back, I'll give you a chance," he added in a low, monotonous voice. Muzan raised his finger, his nail growing in size. With a swift motion, he stabbed it right through Lukeas' left eye and started injecting him with blood.

Lukeas squirmed, his body wracked with excruciating pain. He longed to scream, but the tightening grip around his throat made it impossible. His heart pounded wildly, and his entire being felt as if it were being consumed by flames.

"Hehehahahaha! That's right, struggle, you pathetic bug!" Muzan taunted, relishing in Lukeas' torment.

"Let him go!" a small boy yelled, rushing forward in a desperate attempt to save Lukeas. But his valiant effort was swiftly cut short as one of Muzan's tendrils slashed him, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

"Noo!!!!!!" Kie screamed in horror as she watched her son's lifeless body fall. The other child joined in the chorus of screams and cries, consumed by fear and despair.

"Annoying shit!" Muzan bellowed, directing another tendril to eliminate them. However, just as the attack was about to strike, someone leaped in front of the children, attempting to shield them. Yet, Muzan effortlessly flung Nezuko aside, his attention turning to her resilience.

"Huh... a girl who still stands after being blasted earlier," Muzan muttered, a momentary silence settling over the scene. Lukeas continued to struggle in Muzan's grip, his desperation intensifying.

Then, a smile crept across Muzan's face. "Yes... let's turn you into a demon too. Let's see if you'll still protect those useless trash," he laughed sadistically, injecting her with his blood. "And if you can't even endure that dose of blood, I'd say I overestimated you," he chuckled, watching Nezuko writhe in agony.

But then, an unexpected surge of pain landed on Muzan's face. He turned to Lukeas, who had managed to deliver a punch, a mocking smile on his bloodied face. Enraged, Muzan used the hand that had been choking Lukeas to inject even more of his blood. "I'll make you burst, you fucking shit!"

Lukeas' vision began to fade, the world around him growing dim. 'A-am I dying?... F-fuck..why did i even tried to fight him. ..' Finally, he succumbed to the darkness, losing consciousness and soon followed his heart beat.

".... Dissapointing... " Muzan sigh and with a powerful wave of his arm he sent Lukeas flying across a dozen of meters before hitting the ground and rolling a few more before finally stopping in a middle of the snowy Forrest..

"Now....where were we?" Muzan smiled as he looked at Kie

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