The ordinary swordsmen were unaware that danger had quietly arrived, and they were diligently training.
Members who had graduated from other training regimens were all sent to Himejima Gyomei, making his area overcrowded.
The members watched nervously as swordsmen, dizzy from being washed by the waterfall, were habitually carried away by others—it was essentially an enhanced version of Purgatory on Earth.
Meanwhile, the activation of the Transparent World was proceeding intensely during the day.
However, the training results were minimal; that ability truly could not be achieved simply by reaching one's limit.
In order to reach their limits and force out their potential, they even pushed themselves until their heads spun and they coughed up blood.
If Mizuki hadn't been able to clearly see their physical condition, this method of training would have been quite dangerous.
And at the same time.
Infinity Castle.
"Haven't you found her yet, Nakime?" Kibutsuji Muzan sat upon his throne, holding a map in one hand and elegantly sipping a cup of blood wine with the other, asking expressionlessly.
In front of him was Nakime, sitting before a wall, holding a biwa with both hands.
At this moment, Nakime's face, which was usually hidden beneath her hair, was fully revealed.
A massive eyeball covered her face, marked with the character 'Four'; veins covered her face, connecting to the eyeball, making her look extremely hideous.
Her pitch-black long hair clung to the wall behind her, spreading out like tree roots.
As the biwa in her hands made a sound, those strands of long hair twisted and extended like living things.
Each strand of hair was connected to a monitoring eyeball.
Nakime maintained her posture of playing the biwa and said softly, "My deepest apologies. That woman seems to know we are looking for her, and she has not shown up at the Demon Slayer Corps' headquarters."
Several days had passed since locating the Demon Slayer Corps' headquarters. Although they hadn't completely searched every corner, they had checked most of the residences but still failed to find the woman.
Muzan was not surprised. Pointing to the other side of the map, he said, "Let's explore this area next."
She had been dormant for hundreds of years; did she think appearing now meant she could defeat him?
That face... truly couldn't be ignored.
But Muzan knew clearly in his heart that if that woman possessed the ability to slay him, she would have had ample opportunity over the past few centuries.
Even if their faces were the same, she might not possess half the strength of that monster.
Muzan thought of Kokushibou's appearance; if he hadn't been prejudiced by Kokushibou first, he wouldn't have underestimated that monster when he first encountered him.
When he first saw Kokushibou, the aura of a powerful being contained within that man was already rare among humans.
For hundreds of years, Muzan had never seen a human stronger than Kokushibou, leading him to misunderstand humans and swordsmen who used Breathing Techniques.
Swordsmen who used Breathing Techniques were probably just mediocre.
But only a short time later, he encountered that monster.
A seemingly ordinary person whose aura was initially weak, like an ant, completely crushed him the next moment.
Kibutsuji Muzan clutched his chest, his expression dark.
It's alright... The appearance of that kind of monster once was already a miracle; there won't be a second time.
That woman merely survived by luck, having received his grace, just like Tamayo. Her attempt to execute him was nothing but a pipe dream.
It could be seen from Kokushibou's memories that the woman had only minor talent and was completely unable to use Sun Breathing. Although her strength wasn't bad, perhaps even comparable to Kokushibou's, she wasn't a threat to him—at most, she was just troublesome.
Thinking of this, Muzan's red eyes narrowed.
Or did that woman think that brat who uses Sun Breathing could be of any use?
Just thinking of that flame, Muzan's expression became terrifyingly dark, as if black water could drip from it.
No... that's not right... that Breathing Technique doesn't prove anything; it's far from the point where he should fear it.
That brat killed Rui, drove Gyuutarou to desperation, and withstood Hantengu's pressure... yet he is still so weak.
What he feared, from beginning to end, was only that monster, and it had nothing to do with the Breathing Technique or appearance.
In any case, if he missed this opportunity, he wouldn't know when the next one would arise.
As soon as he thought of achieving his millennia-long cherished wish, the trace of worry in Kibutsuji Muzan's heart instantly transformed into excitement.
Soon, he would overcome the sun and become the perfect, ultimate life form.
As long as he ate... that woman... The search for a way to conquer the sun over millennia, whether by looking for the so-called blue spider lily or trying to find a method through the medical field, had nearly driven him mad.
"Muzan-sama, there is a discovery."
Just as Muzan was lost in thought, Nakime's voice brought his attention back.
Without needing an explanation, Muzan's gaze sharpened, and his view instantly switched to the location Nakime had marked.
It was in an alleyway.
The night was deep. During the special training period, the Demon Slayer Corps had increased both the shifts and the number of personnel assigned to night patrols.
There were patrol members basically everywhere.
Considering that he couldn't alert the Demon Slayer Corps, Muzan merely had Nakime mark the number and location of personnel and residences throughout the Demon Slayer Corps' area.
What appeared in Muzan's sight now was a team of patrol members.
The three men carried lanterns and walked forward aimlessly, completely unaware that two small Eyeball Monsters were stealthily following them in the shadows of a corner behind them.
One of them started the conversation: "Speaking of which, we haven't seen the Hashira for several days. Has the special training already ended?"
"Ended? But I still have to go train with Himejima-sama tomorrow," the other person said miserably. "It's possible I'll die at the hands of a Hashira before I even get to fight Muzan."
Kibutsuji Muzan's eyelid twitched. Were these people really so relaxed?
They were grinning during the final battle, treating a crucial night patrol mission lightly and showing no sense of crisis whatsoever.
No wonder they could only be ordinary swordsmen and never become Hashira.
If his subordinates were like this, he guaranteed they wouldn't live past the next day.
"That person's training... is indeed a bit unbearable," the last person said, his face pale, as if he had already experienced the Stone Hashira's training, his eyes still holding the despair from that time.
"What about the other Hashira's training? I haven't heard any news about the other Hashira's training these past few days."
"Now that you mention it, I haven't actually seen the other Hashira these past few days either."
The other Hashira?
Kibutsuji Muzan narrowed his eyes. Indeed, Nakime hadn't spotted any of the other Hashira these past few days.
They must be undergoing special training somewhere.
Another patrolling swordsman scratched his head and said, "Could they be doing special training somewhere?"
Muzan nodded inwardly.
That's right, he thought so too.
The patrolling swordsman said uncertainly, "I saw that Young Miss before... I think her name was Mizuki? She seems quite close to the Hashira."
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