Epiphany!
Ryosuke's whole body shook. Urokodaki's words were like a bolt of lightning clearing the dense fog accumulated in his heart.
He had been obsessed with maintaining the state of the Breathing Style, treating it as a technique that required deliberate control. Instead, this caused a separation between body and mind during sleep, creating resistance.
What he needed to do was to integrate completely, letting breathing become the most fundamental rhythmic instinct of life!
"Instinct... instinct!"
Ryosuke muttered to himself, the confusion in his eyes fading, suddenly seeing the light!
Urokodaki nodded slightly, saying no more, his figure quietly disappearing into the darkness.
Ryosuke closed his eyes again.
This time, he no longer tried to control his breathing or maintain a certain rhythm.
He let go of all obsessions, allowing his body and mind to relax completely, feeling the most primal and natural flow of every breath between his nasal cavity, chest, and dantian.
The breath was soundless, like a clear breeze in a mountain valley, like an underground spring, unrestrained and endless.
Consciousness gradually blurred, sinking into darkness.
This time, there was no struggle, no waking up startled.
Even and long breaths rose and fell in the quiet room, flowing and circulating around Ryosuke's body.
A night without dreams.
When the first ray of morning light pierced through, Ryosuke slowly opened his eyes.
This time, there was none of the chaos and heaviness of waking up in the past.
An unprecedented clarity and strength filled his limbs and bones.
His body was so light it seemed weightless, full of vitality, like a deep ocean pool—calm on the surface, surging underneath.
He subconsciously clenched his fist. The majestic breath accumulated in his body responded instantly, rushing through his whole body without lag.
No need for deliberate guidance, no need for intense concentration. The power of breathing was at his fingertips, thoroughly integrated into every inch of life's texture, becoming his foundation.
Done!
After months of settled practice!
Total Concentration · Constant! Done!
The hurdle that had troubled him for a long time came naturally under Urokodaki's guidance and his own realization!
In the courtyard, Urokodaki Sakonji had long been standing quietly in the mist with his back to the wooden house.
He didn't turn back, murmuring softly.
"Breath steady as an abyss, flowing ceaselessly in harmony..."
Urokodaki paused, his tone approving: "Truly intelligent."
Ryosuke flipped out the door.
Sabito was leading Giyu in sword practice, the sound of breaking wind exceptionally clear in the forest.
"Ryosuke-nii!"
Sabito was the first to notice his appearance. Keenly capturing the aura around Ryosuke, a light of surprise exploded in his eyes.
"You... you mastered Constant?!"
"Mhm."
Ryosuke nodded, with sincere gratitude: "Thanks to Mr. Urokodaki's pointer."
After the excitement, Sabito couldn't help but feel deflated.
"Tsk, looks like we have no hope of catching up to you in the short term."
"Nonsense."
Ryosuke walked up and patted his shoulder: "Your talents are better than mine; it's just a matter of time. Once you find that point, your improvement will be faster than mine."
Just as his voice fell, Makomo trotted over.
"Ryosuke-nii, your letter!"
Letter?
Ryosuke's heart skipped a beat, his butt clenching subconsciously.
No way...
Is Shinjuro still chasing me?!
But when Ryosuke saw the familiar Momoyama seal on the corner of the envelope, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
Opening the envelope, inside was Rika's elegant handwriting, chattering about trivial matters at Momoyama.
Grandpa's newly mixed medicinal tea was so bitter; Shota-nii competed with the wooden dummy again during training and sprained his wrist; the peaches behind the mountain were almost ripe...
Between the lines was the girl's cautious longing.
At the end of the letter, a line of crooked handwriting that had obviously been altered several times caught his eye.
"...The wound medicine is on the second shelf of Rika's cabinet. Don't die out there."
Haki-Shota! You guy!
Ryosuke held the letter paper, his fingertips seemingly feeling the writer's warmth.
The demon in Yamagata Prefecture, the solitary training at Mt. Sagiri... unconsciously, it had been several months since he left Momoyama.
During this period, apart from cultivating, he went out on missions. The demons he killed were either low-tier or mid-tier, completely lacking in difficulty.
There was no helping it; high-tier evil demons weren't cabbages by the roadside, not something one encountered every time.
Most of the time, it was just this group of EXP-delivering "small breads."
Thinking about it now, that farcical storm about the "old grandma" should have been diluted by time.
A strong desire to return surged in his heart.
Having learned Constant, it was time to go back and take a look.
When he solemnly thanked Urokodaki and bid farewell, Moriyama Akira happened to be out on a new mission.
However, on the way down the mountain, Ryosuke ran into Murata sitting by the creek.
During Ryosuke's time at Mt. Sagiri, the two didn't interact much; most of the time Murata was followed by Moriyama Akira.
"Murata?" Ryosuke called out.
Murata jumped in fright. Seeing it was Ryosuke, his already dejected face collapsed even more like a bitter melon.
"Ah, Mr. Ryosuke, it's you. Training... sigh, I feel like I haven't improved at all."
"What's wrong?"
Ryosuke wanted to laugh seeing his sad face.
What could bother my famous Road Hashira like this?!
You are the contestant who only got his clothes slightly dirty on the front lines of the Infinity Castle battle!
"Final Selection is in a few months."
Murata frowned, worried sick: "With my current level, can I really come out alive..."
He squatted down, unconsciously pulling at the grass on the ground, a gloomy drizzle seeming to fall over his head.
Ryosuke couldn't hold it back.
"Hey, Murata."
"Huh?"
Murata looked up blankly.
"Trust me!"
Ryosuke looked at him with a subtle expression: "In the future, you will definitely become the cleanest legend in the Demon Slayer Corps! Mt. Fujikasane? That's just a drizzle!"
"Go for it! I'm optimistic about your slightly-dirty-clothes future!"
After speaking, ignoring the even more confused Murata, Ryosuke stepped onto the return journey briskly.
Anxious to return, Ryosuke integrated Thunder Breathing into his running, his figure turning into a stream of light and swift shadow.
Night deepened. Just as Momoyama was faintly in sight, a strong scent of blood drilled into his nose!
"There's a demon!"
Ryosuke's eyes sharpened. He instantly concealed his aura and sped towards the scent.
Good, good, good. Looks like I've been gone too long!
These small breads are getting bold, daring to show their faces on Momoyama's turf!
In the dense forest of the hollow ahead, the scene was tragic.
Three women and one man were forced into a corner by a demon shaped like a vicious wolf.
The demon was entirely grey. Saliva mixed with bloody foam dripped from its fangs, the stench pungent.
Its thick arm swept across, easily knocking down the kunai and hidden weapons shot at it.
Boom!
Explosions rose everywhere. As the dust cleared, the demon's wounds healed at a speed visible to the naked eye!
Although the three women protected in the rear were panicked, they didn't break down.
The man blocking at the very front was unusually striking.
He was no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, with an extremely burly and tall build. His long silver-white hair was tied into a high ponytail. He wore a headband embedded with gems on his forehead, and strange red markings were painted on his face.
"Hinatsuru! Makio! Suma! Step back! Something's wrong with this thing!"