katzeganse

A Lower Moon demon who weaves paper-body doubles from prayer slips, sending them to die in their place while the true body molts within a bell. Once a failed calligrapher obsessed with perfect strokes, Kumoji tattoos contracts on victims’ skin and collects names like trophies. Terrified of the Upper Moons and resentful of Muzan’s indifference, they hover between cowardice and ambition—ripe for manipulation or betrayal.

A discreet patroness who runs a chain of inns warded by wisteria, offering sanctuary and intelligence to travelers at great personal risk. Once nearly turned by Muzan but saved at dawn, she retains a phantom sensitivity to demon presence—migraines before moonrise, the taste of iron on her tongue. Polite and maternal, she keeps ledger-ciphers that hide routes, ration stores, and sightings. Her façade of hospitality conceals a quiet ruthlessness toward predators who breach her threshold.

A junior Corps swordsmith’s apprentice banished for experimental alloys who now forges off-books Nichirin variants in a mountain kiln. Blunt, sleep-deprived, and mechanically gifted, Ren believes the sun can be ‘bottled’ through tuned crystal lattices. They barter blades to fringe slayers and secret patrons, crossing lines between Corps orthodoxy and practical survival. Ren’s loyalty is to results—and to the handful of fighters who trusted their prototypes—creating tension with conservative masters and interest from demons who covet weapons that might counter the sun.

An Upper Moon whose Blood Demon Art weaponizes sound and memory—humming creates echoing corridors that loop victims through their happiest recollections before the melody turns predatory. Once a blind street singer who memorized the city by vibration, Yasha now hears heartbeats like choir lines and believes mercy is letting prey ‘finish their song.’ Fanatically devoted to perfection in performance, they despise cacophony—especially the chaos Muzan sows—yet fear him more than dissonance. They nurture lesser demons like protégés only to discard them at the first missed note, creating a trail of betrayed admirers and vengeful survivors.

A former Kyoto printmaker turned clandestine historian for the Demon Slayer Corps, Kagari maps disappearances and tracks whispers of Blood Demon Arts through coded woodblock prints. Analytical, stubborn, and quietly compassionate, they are driven by a need to give meaning to senseless deaths after losing their atelier to a nocturnal ‘fire’ that left no ash. Kagari’s reserved demeanor hides a reckless curiosity that borders on suicidal when Muzan’s patterns surface. They clash with zealots in the Corps who want only combat, yet earn respect by predicting demon movements; their growing network of informants inside pleasure districts and rail lines makes them indispensable—and a prime target.