After breakfast, Yoriichi followed his usual routine and began training for the day. Muzan suddenly remembered something. Reclining in a rocking chair beneath the eaves' shadow, he watched Yoriichi swing his bamboo sword at the wooden dummy Muzan had found.
"Yoriichi, how did you enter the Clear World?"
"The Clear World?" Yoriichi froze. How did Muzan know about that?
He had never mentioned it before.
But remembering that Muzan knew many things, he accepted it.
"You can't enter the Clear World?"
Muzan: (￣_￣|||)
What kind of humblebrag was that?!
Seeing his expression, Yoriichi had his answer.
"The Clear World is achieved by mastering your body to the utmost degree. You isolate your 'fighting spirit'—something akin to killing intent—from the outside world, enter a state of selflessness, and raise your perception to its limit..."
Muzan nodded. Only after hearing Yoriichi explain it did he understand what the Clear World truly was.
Entering the Clear World required extreme suffering, and desperate situations often made it easier to awaken.
Of course, that excluded players with cheats. Some people were simply born with Scarlet Traces and the Clear World.
And it was more like the ultimate refinement of a technique. Only with a powerful physique could one possess the Clear World.
Damn cheat players!
Muzan did not expect to encounter some desperate crisis and awaken the Clear World then. He could only begin practicing according to his own understanding.
Time passed quickly. Muzan accompanied the two children as they grew up while continuing to try to enter the Clear World.
One day, Yoriichi once again asked Muzan to spar with him.
Muzan had watched Yoriichi improve and was confident in his strength.
He waited leisurely for Yoriichi to attack.
Yoriichi wore a grave expression. He solemnly drew his sword, took a deep breath, then charged forward. His blade cut through the air as it came slashing down.
At that moment, Muzan was stunned.
Seeing the very real "special effects" unfolding before his eyes, Muzan's pupils contracted.
Sun Breathing?!
You already had a Breathing Style at this point?!
Muzan hurriedly raised his sword to defend. A blazing, fiery aura rushed at him, and the sunlike radiance made him uncomfortable.
Every one of Yoriichi's slashes was swift and vicious. Struck by the force of the Breathing Style, Muzan instinctively used his true strength.
At that instant, Yoriichi felt an utterly terrifying pressure. The aura of the person before him suddenly became unfamiliar.
A violent power, life force that sought to devour everything. Young Yoriichi was so overwhelmed that his breathing stopped for an instant. In that instant, it was as though something pierced through his mind. His eyes widened, and his movements became incomparably smooth.
Muzan realized he had overreacted and hurriedly took a step back, withdrawing his sword. But immediately afterward, he saw Yoriichi's crimson blade trace a blazing sunlike circle before slashing toward him.
Muzan's pupils shrank. An unprecedented sense of danger washed over him. In an instant, he sensed the blade's path and saw a different world.
He hastily twisted aside, barely evading Yoriichi's Sun Breathing, then stared blankly at Yoriichi's blade with its special effects.
"Holy shit! Yoriichi! Are you trying to kill me?!"
This was the Thirteenth Form of Sun Breathing!
Why the hell did you already have it at this point?!
In the original story, this was the thing that had nearly killed him!
The blade struck the ground, leaving a deep crater. Yoriichi's movements froze as he looked at Muzan with lingering fear. What had he just done?
Muzan was shaken as well. Damn it, raising Yoriichi was way too dangerous!
Although Sun Breathing could not threaten him now, if Yoriichi already had Sun Breathing and the Thirteenth Form, then getting a Crimson Blade next did not seem strange at all.
Muzan swallowed, sheathed his sword, and looked at Yoriichi, who was sitting on the ground.
"You scared me to death. If you come up with something new in the future, tell me before you start swinging it around. That was way too dangerous. You nearly took my life..."
He still planned to live into the modern era. He still wanted to play on his phone!
Yoriichi sat on the floor and nodded blankly. The feeling Muzan had given him just now had been too terrifying. It had seemed that if he were touched, he would die completely. That moment of danger had made him overreact as well.
"Sigh." Muzan sighed, walked over, and pulled Yoriichi to his feet. "Get up. Don't sit there."
Yoriichi let himself be pulled up, nodded, and sheathed his sword.
Yet that brief instant had successfully allowed Muzan, whose soul had nearly fled from fright, to enter the Clear World.
What a fucking surprise mixed with terror!
It was worth mentioning that Yoriichi activated his Scarlet Traces every time they fought. That fiery red blade was truly intimidating.
As expected of a cheat player.
Muzan went over and drank a few mouthfuls of water to calm himself before picking up his book again. But after the sudden joy and fright, all seven of his hearts were still pounding, and he could not focus on the book at all.
The Clear World he had wanted to unlock for decades had finally opened!
Although it had been dangerous just now, it could not truly harm him. As long as Yoriichi did not use a Crimson Blade, he was in no danger. At worst, he would be frightened, but the gains were enormous.
The Clear World did not strengthen the body, but it represented a person's—or demon's—ultimate control over their body, absolute application of technique, and extraordinary perception.
As one of the Demon Slayers' major methods of increasing combat power, the Clear World's ability to enhance one's fighting strength was obvious.
Through the Clear World, one could see an enemy's weaknesses and make it impossible for the enemy to predict one's next move.
But for Muzan, it was temporarily useless.
After all, the only person who could threaten him was Yoriichi, the little brat he was raising.
Still, Yoriichi had somehow mastered a Breathing Style without Muzan noticing, and Muzan's pressure had even driven him to create the Thirteenth Form in an instant.
That brat was quite good at hiding things!
All he could say was that Yoriichi truly deserved to be the ceiling.
Five years later,
The moonlight was gentle, and the cool breeze rustled through the trees. Their shadows swayed lightly beside the window.
Muzan lay in his rocking chair, sleeping leisurely. For someone as long-lived as him, sleep was probably the best way to pass the time.
But he was soon awakened by the sound of Yoriichi pushing open the door.
Removing the book covering his face, Muzan opened his eyes and looked at Yoriichi, who held a long sword in his hand.
The long sword in Yoriichi's hand was stained with half-dried blood. His expression was complicated, and several tears from claws marked his clothes. Though still young, Yoriichi was breathing rapidly, his face flushed, and the hand gripping his sword trembled faintly.
Muzan's expression immediately turned serious. "What happened?"
"I encountered a Half-Demon."
"?!" Muzan's eyes widened instantly. He tossed aside the book in his hand and stood up. "What happened?"
After learning that Yoriichi already had a Breathing Style, Muzan had frankly told him that Nichirin Blades were how demons were killed, and that Breathing Styles and Nichirin Blades complemented each other, allowing them to inflict greater damage on demons.
Over the past few months, Muzan had naturally told Yoriichi about Half-Demons as well. Likewise, methods effective against demons were effective against Half-Demons.
Although Yoriichi was still young, his skill was already enough to defeat ordinary Half-Demons and demons. Muzan had therefore felt at ease letting him run around.
After all, he was still a child. Muzan could not keep him cooped up in this small place every day.
"I encountered a Half-Demon in the village ahead, but I already killed it."
Muzan frowned, walked over, and crouched to examine Yoriichi. Only after confirming that his clothes had merely been torn and that he was unharmed did he relax.
After all, he had raised the child for several years. This old father, over five hundred years old, could not help but worry.
Before you continue