Chapter 114: Transparent World
Although Akira felt a lingering sense of foreboding after realizing he might have drawn the direct attention of the demon progenitor, he remained outwardly calm. It was still daytime. The sun hung high in the sky, meaning even Kibutsuji Muzan was forced to cower in the shadows. Rather than wasting energy worrying about an attack that could not happen in the light, it was far more pragmatic to focus on something he could control: grasping the elusive concept of the Transparent World.
After all, he still needed to master the complete Demon Slayer trio of ultimate techniques.
The Demon Slayer Mark was a double-edged sword that demanded a heavy toll on one's lifespan, something Akira intended to avoid at all costs. He had a family to build and protect; dying young was simply not an option.
As for the Bright Red Nichirin Sword, he had already forced his way into activating it during his brutal clash with Upper Rank Five, Gyokko. The method he used was incredibly strenuous, generating immense friction and heat that severely degraded the steel of his blade, making it highly impractical for prolonged combat. Still, it gave him a clear direction. He could refine the technique, lower the physical burden, and improve his output over time.
The only technique that left him completely in the dark was the Transparent World. He had absolutely no clue where to even begin.
Fortunately, he was currently sharing a carriage with Kamado Tanjuro—a man who had naturally stepped into that exact realm. It would be foolish not to ask for guidance.
"To touch the world of the so-called Transparent World, at least according to my own understanding, one must approach it from two distinct directions," Tanjuro explained, his voice gentle but carrying a steady, rhythmic weight.
"The first is the body, and the second is the heart."
Tanjuro coughed lightly into his sleeve before continuing. "A sufficiently strong physical vessel is the absolute prerequisite for reaching that state. However, this strength does not refer to how much raw destructive power you possess, nor how fast you can swing a blade. It is a relative concept."
He looked toward Akira, his calm eyes reflecting a deep well of experience. "Every living person is born with a biological ceiling, an absolute upper limit dictated by their innate talent. Years of grueling, relentless hard work allow a person to constantly approach that boundary. A 'sufficiently strong body' simply means a body that has been pushed as close to its absolute limit as possible—a state where your personal potential has been developed to its absolute extreme."
Akira nodded slowly, absorbing every word. 'Pushing the physical vessel to its absolute peak. That makes sense.'"Once the body is prepared, it comes down to the'heart'," Tanjuro continued, leaning back slightly against the wooden wall of the moving carriage. "I only managed to touch upon this realm while trying to refine the movements of the Hinokami Kagura. Based on my experience, to enter this state, you must first turn your focus entirely inward. You must concentrate your attention solely on yourself."
Tanjuro raised a hand, pressing it lightly against his own chest. "Pay attention to your every breath. Feel the exact moment your heart beats, the pressure of blood surging through your veins, the minute flexing and relaxing of every single muscle fiber. You must identify any discordant, unnecessary movements and eliminate them one by one, until you achieve absolute, flawless control over your own physical form."
He lowered his hand, his expression serene. "You do not feel these things through your normal physical senses. You rely entirely on your 'heart'. You use your heart to observe, to feel, and to command. You adjust your breathing to perfectly match the physical demands of your movements. You unify the rhythm of your heartbeat, the flow of your blood, the intake of air, and the contraction of muscle into one singular, harmonious action."
The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels seemed to fade into the background as Tanjuro spoke.
"During this process, your heart will allow you to see every microscopic detail of your internal structure. You will gain total authority over your actions, ensuring that not a single movement is redundant, and not a single fraction of energy is wasted. Once you have firmly grasped this state of seeing yourself with your heart, you simply turn that internal observation outward. You apply that same perception to the world around you. That is how you touch the realm."
Tanjuro offered a modest, warm smile. "The Transparent World is simply the act of seeing the world with your heart. This is only my personal insight, but I wonder if it might be of some use to you?"
Akira sat in deep thought, dissecting the deep explanation. The other occupants of the carriage, however, looked completely lost. Even Kanae sat with a slightly bewildered expression, her brow furrowed in concentration. She understood the theoretical concept Tanjuro was describing, but she knew she did not yet meet the basic physical prerequisites to even attempt it.
Akira, on the other hand, had already begun to sense the edges of his own physical limits during his recent, brutal training regimens., because he constantly used his unique vision to micro-correct his posture and sword swings, he had accidentally stumbled upon the fringes of this concept long ago.
The only hurdle was the concept of seeing with the "heart". That specific requirement was incredibly difficult for Akira to grasp.
His unique eyes were both his greatest weapon and his heaviest shackle.
If he did not possess his Super Vision, it would have been nearly impossible for him to reach his current level of lethal efficiency. But because his eyes were so overwhelmingly powerful, his brain automatically defaulted to using them for everything. In any situation that required him to "see" or "perceive," he relied entirely on his optical nerves rather than trusting his internal feelings or his heart.
Tanjuro never had access to such overpowered eyesight. When the frail man was trying to perfect the complex, exhausting steps of the Kagura dance, he had no choice but to rely entirely on his internal senses. He had to feel every shift in his weight and every breath he took, which naturally guided him straight into the Transparent World.
"You have given me a highly feasible direction, and that alone is a massive help. Thank you, Tanjuro," Akira said, bowing his head slightly in sincere gratitude.
Tanjuro's explanation had laid Akira's biggest flaw bare: he was far too reliant on his visual gifts. He now had a concrete, actionable plan on how to bridge the gap and step into the Transparent World. He just needed to apply this internal sensory deprivation into his future training.
"I am just glad I could be of some assistance," Tanjuro replied softly. "Compared to the immense help you have given my family, I have merely offered a few empty words."
"The value of knowledge is entirely subjective. Please do not sell yourself short," Akira replied smoothly. "Actually, would you mind if I shared this insight within the Demon Slayer Corps? I would only inform those whose physical strength has already reached the necessary threshold."
When Tanjuro mentioned seeing the world with the heart, a specific face immediately surfaced in Akira's mind.
Himejima Gyomei.
The Stone Hashira had been completely blind since childhood. Stripped of his physical sight, Gyomei had already spent years learning to perceive the external world through his heart and his heightened senses. The only reason the giant had not yet unlocked the Transparent World was likely a lack of internal focus. Gyomei saw the outside world with his heart, but he had not yet applied that same perception to his own internal biology.
If Akira passed Tanjuro's insights along, it might be the exact catalyst Gyomei needed to cross the threshold.
"Of course, I do not mind at all. Those words can only truly manifest their worth in your hands anyway," Tanjuro agreed readily, waving off the formality. He truly did not care about hoarding martial secrets. For him, seeing his family live out their days in peace and safety was his only desire. If his children could grow up, find love, and start families of their own, he would ask for nothing more from this world.
While Akira and Tanjuro discussed the pinnacle of martial arts inside the sunlit carriage, a far darker gathering was taking place deep underground.
Inside the shifting, impossible geometry of the Infinity Castle, Akaza sat silently in a dimly lit, wooden room.
The Upper Rank Three demon sat cross-legged on the tatami mats, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and measured. He was simply waiting for the sun to set so he could surface and execute the tracking orders Muzan had given him.
A few feet away, another demon huddled against the sliding paper door, trembling so violently that its claws clicked against the floorboards. It was a lesser demon, a tracker, and its Blood Demon Art—a tracking ability it had once been incredibly proud of—had suddenly become the source of its worst nightmare.
Just hours ago, this lesser demon had been hiding comfortably in a dark basement, waiting for nightfall to hunt for human flesh. Without warning, the sound of a biwa echoed in its ears, its vision warped, and it was violently yanked into this bizarre fortress. First, it had been subjected to the terrifying, suffocating presence of the Demon King himself. Now, it was forced to share a small room with Upper Rank Three.
The sheer density of Akaza's aura made the air feel like thick mud. The lesser demon felt as though its lungs were being crushed just by breathing the same air. This was, without a doubt, the absolute darkest moment of its miserable demonic life.
When they had first been placed in the room together, Akaza had opened his eyes and looked at the tracker. The undisguised disgust and contempt in the Upper Rank's glowing eyes—looking at the lesser demon as if it were a piece of rotting garbage—had frozen the tracker's vocal cords. It did not dare make a single sound.
Every passing second stretched into an eternity of psychological torture for the tool demon.
Finally, the agonizing wait came to an end. Night fell upon the surface world.
Akaza snapped his eyes open. He rose to his feet in one fluid, silent motion. A split second later, the sharp, echoing twang of a biwa string rang through the room. The floor beneath them vanished, and both demons were instantly expelled from the Infinity Castle.
When their surroundings stabilized, the cold night wind hit their faces. They were standing in the dirt at the base of Mount Kumotori, at the exact location where Akira had parked his carriage earlier that day.
Akaza did not bother looking at the trembling creature beside him. He simply stared down the dirt path leading away from the mountain.
"Use your Blood Demon Art. Find every possible way to track the scent of the carriage that rested here during the day," Akaza ordered, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. "Do that, and your mission is complete."
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