Demon Slayer:Multiverse crossover

In the massive arena, all noise had faded.

The only sounds that remained were the crackling of burning flames and the sharp fractures of ice splintering beneath overwhelming force.

Even on the opposite side of the stadium, Shinomiya Saki—who had been dominating her opponent with a flurry of elegant attacks—paused abruptly. Her eyes widened as she looked toward the disturbance.

"…What is that?" someone whispered, their voice hollow, their face pale.

In the teachers' section, Mr. Yuanshan sprang to his feet the moment the red sword materialized in the arena. However, the other instructors did not seem panicked by his reaction. Instead, every pair of eyes was locked on the sword itself, entranced.

On the rostrum, the principal—who had kept his eyes closed for most of the event—suddenly opened them. He turned calmly to Vice Principal Shinji Nitta beside him.

"Go," he said simply.

Shinji Nitta didn't question the order. He nodded once and vanished. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared at the referee's side in the inner arena.

"You may leave now," he said firmly.

Startled by the sudden voice, the referee turned to see the vice principal. He exhaled in relief and bolted off the stage as fast as his legs could carry him.

> Being asked to referee this level of fight was no different than asking to be diced into ribbons by that blade. Just watching it was enough to make his skin crawl.

---

In the crowd, Chiyo Nitta's hands were trembling, a fine sheen of sweat coating her skin. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Beside her, Mochizuki sat in stunned silence, her eyes glued to the lone figure in the ring.

James stood like a sword pointed to the heavens—upright, steady, unshakable. His crimson blade was held diagonally, barely hovering above the cracked ground.

And yet, the earth was shattering beneath it, as though the sword's very presence was enough to split the world apart.

"I… I don't know what that is…" Mochizuki murmured, her lips trembling. "But if someone were to be hit by it—"

"They'd die," Chiyo said without hesitation, her voice barely above a whisper. "No question."

---

On the battlefield, Koji Karita slowly released his palms from the ground. His back, which had been bent in tension, straightened. He rose to his feet with slow, uncertain movements.

His mind was in chaos.

> If he'd used this technique from the beginning… would I have mocked him? Would I have understood how absurdly arrogant I'd been?

Even standing several meters away, Koji could feel the heat radiating off the blade.

This wasn't a flame that merely burned. This was a force of destruction, cleansing and absolute. Its energy was masculine, forceful, and just. The kind of power that repelled evil. Anyone with even the faintest guilt in their heart would tremble before it.

James had told him before: Your flames are large but unrefined.

Now, Koji believed him.

This was what true fire looked like.

Koji clenched his fists and took a deep breath. His expression was determined.

"Bring it on!"

Even if he was destined to lose, he carried the honor of the Yantian family. He would fall flat on his back before he ever turned away.

---

In the VIP area, a middle-aged man remained seated while the others around him fidgeted nervously.

"Master, your son—"

"Naoto-sama, the young master—"

"Silence!" the man barked.

He was Yantian Naoto, Koji's father, and a second-level powerhouse. His tone left no room for argument.

"I'm proud of my son," he continued, "but disappointed in all of you. You're so eager to protect, you've forgotten how to let go. Perhaps that's why the Yantian family has always trailed behind the other great families."

The room fell into silence.

"Shinji Nitta is far stronger than I am. If he chooses not to interfere, what could I do? So be quiet—and watch."

---

Back on the field, James slowly walked toward Koji, the tip of his sword dragging along the cracked stone surface. A faint red trail followed in its wake.

"You're still not surrendering?" James asked.

"I'll fall standing," Koji replied, his voice resolute.

His eyes were fully open now, blood vessels stark against the whites. Every inch of his body was trembling under the pressure James was releasing.

> How could he not feel it?

This was the Hedao—a technique James had honed over years, especially after his battle with the Ghost King Muzan. Even at reduced power, it surpassed anything Koji had ever faced.

If this was not at full power… Muzan's ghost would be rolling in his coffin.

And yet, James had never been needlessly cruel. Despite his overwhelming strength, he never severely injured his opponents. Most walked away with minor wounds that could be healed in under an hour.

Koji, for all his arrogance, was not evil. Just another rich kid raised with superiority complex. So James would deal with him the only way a swordsman should:

> A clean defeat.

---

"One strike," James said softly.

"Good!" Koji shouted, determination flaring.

He summoned all his spiritual power, yellow flames surging over his body in three layers—outer, inner, and core—wrapping him like a blazing cocoon. He bent his knees, ready to move.

Meanwhile, Shinji Nitta—now officiating—tensed his legs, spiritual power pooling around his feet. He was prepared to intercept the attack at a moment's notice.

James raised his sword.

Then—

SLASH!

A flash of red light cut across the field.

The air cracked. The ground roared.

BOOM!!!

The echo of the slash shook the entire stadium.

The red blade moved too fast. Koji didn't even have time to dodge.

In an instant, his triple-layer flame shield was shredded. The pressure crushed him to his knees, his legs buckling from the sheer weight of the attack.

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

> Is this the end? Am I really going to die here...?

But the crimson sword light didn't hit him.

It passed just beside him, close enough that the heat singed his uniform, but not his flesh.

Dust exploded behind him. Fragments of stone shot in all directions. The staff immediately activated the protective barrier, shielding the audience.

As the dust cleared, what emerged stunned the entire crowd.

A gaping, bottomless chasm had been carved into the platform.

It began at James's feet, extended past Koji, and continued all the way to the towering stone wall at the end of the arena.

No—through the stone wall.

Even Shinomiya Saki, on the other side of the wall, stopped in shock.

The two platforms had been cut through—by a single slash.

---

Shinji Nitta let out a long breath.

> "With just one attack like that… he's already the champion of this tournament."

He had sensed the trajectory of the slash and realized it would spare Koji. That's why he hadn't intervened.

> This year's Kanto Competition… will be interesting.

Back on the rostrum, the principal's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. He smiled, sly and pleased.

Every tournament was more than a show. It was a way to prove the strength of a school—and a path to greater resources and influence.

---

On the platform, the exhausted Koji Karita was gently carried off by the medical staff.

As they left, the long sword in James's hand crumbled into ash, dispersing into the air like dust.

Then, like a thunderclap:

The crowd erupted.

Tens of thousands of spectators leapt to their feet, screaming James's name.

"JAMES!! JAMES!! JAMES!!"

Cheers echoed throughout the stadium, louder and louder, a roaring tide of voices.

He had dominated his opponent.

He had stunned every student in the First National Junior High School.

After three long years…

> His Majesty James had finally returned.

---

In the crowd, Mochizuki could no longer hold back her tears.

Her brother had endured so much. The pain, the relentless training, the sacrifice—it had all been worth it.

His eyes had never wavered from the path of the sword. His journey was steep, but now… he stood at the summit.

Beside her, Chiyo Nitta could only watch, envy flickering in her gaze.

After greeting Shinji Nitta, James left the stage without another word.

---

Meanwhile, Shinomiya Saki had also secured her victory.

But she felt no joy.

She had just witnessed a wall—no, a mountain—rise before her once again.

And this time, she couldn't see any way to climb it.

Her pale blue eyes dimmed slightly as she pouted, frustrated.

"…Guess I'd better rewatch the video."

---

With that, the ranking tournament drew to a close.

Only one match remained.

Tomorrow—the final—would determine who was truly the strongest student in the First National Junior High School.

James vs. Shinomiya Saki.

Everyone expected the outcome. But still… what if?

Wasn't miracle the very thing genius was made for?

---

The next day, amidst the breathless anticipation of the entire school…

It began.

Øóffer going on for diamond tier

pàtreøn (Gk31)