Chapter 184: Dao Follows Nature
Akira realized that his previous assumption had done Gyomei a slight injustice.
Thanks to his unique ocular prowess—an innate ability bordering on a miniature Transparent World—Akira's reaction speed had been honed to an absolute, razor-sharp limit. Without that visual edge, he never would have managed to parry the relentless barrage of Akaza's fists before his Nichirin Blade finally shattered.
Gyomei, bolstered by his own mastery of the Transparent World, possessed formidable reflexes. Yet, a marginal gap still existed between the Stone Hashira and Akira, especially when the latter forcibly shattered his physical limits by stimulating his heart meridians. That gap, however, was razor-thin. It was the sole reason Akira's Divine Punishment: Five Fold had only managed to force the blind giant to unseal his massive axe, rather than securing a decisive victory.
Experiencing the Transparent World firsthand shifted Akira's entire perspective. It was far more deep than merely seeing with greater clarity or unlocking some biological 'X-ray vision.'It wasn't just a sensory enhancement; it was the literal act of'seeing through' the very fabric of reality. It brushed against the unseen, fundamental laws governing the world.
The wind scattering heavy clouds across the sky, the eternal cycle of the sun rising and the moon setting, the quiet blooming of spring flowers and their inevitable autumn decay—these were the laws of nature. The underlying rules of existence. Standing there, Akira could faintly perceive the delicate, shimmering threads of these cosmic laws weaving through the air around him.
The sensation remained hazy, distant. He was merely a bystander, watching those ethereal threads operate in their natural, undisturbed rhythm. He couldn't pluck them. He couldn't interfere or influence their flow in the slightest. Yet, the mere ability to sense their presence felt almost absurd in its power. Because even if he lacked the divine authority to alter those rules, he could study them. He could emulate their flow and harness their principles for his own blade.
Man follows Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows Nature.
The ancient proverb echoed in his mind. By stepping into the world of the Transparent World, Akira had finally brushed his fingertips against the true essence of that philosophy.
In that moment of quiet enlightenment, his comprehension of Breathing Styles shattered its previous ceiling, ascending to an entirely new echelon. He realized the hidden truth: Breathing Styles were not just physical martial arts. They were deliberate, careful alignments with the natural laws of the elements they represented.
Long before the legendary Tsugikuni Yoriichi walked the earth, the Demon Slayer Corps' martial arts had stagnated at the rudimentary level of basic physical conditioning. Lacking the internal engine of Breathing Styles, those ancient swordsmen relied solely on raw muscle, grit, and standard Nichirin Blades to wage their desperate, bloody wars against demons. The resulting casualty rates from that era were nothing short of a massacre.
Then came Yoriichi. Born with the innate blessing of the Transparent World, he saw the world in its truest form. Upon joining the Corps, he recognized that sunlight was the absolute, inescapable bane of demonkind. By observing the rhythm, the oppressive heat, and the life-giving rules of the sun itself, he forged the primordial technique: Sun Breathing.
Yet, the laws governing the sun were overwhelmingly vast. Coupled with the fact that Yoriichi had tailored the forms to match his own god-like physiology, Sun Breathing proved impossible for ordinary mortals to replicate. Still, his teachings ignited a spark. It gave the swordsmen of that era a clear path forward: look to nature, perceive its elements, and draw strength from the world around them.
The most brilliant minds among those early slayers turned their gaze toward the five dominant forces of nature—Wind, Flame, Water, Thunder, and Stone. By borrowing the core respiratory foundation of Sun Breathing, they adapted their swordplay to mimic these elements, birthing the five fundamental Breathing Styles that formed the pillars of the modern Corps.
Those pioneers likely never unlocked the Transparent World themselves, but that didn't blind them to the essence of their chosen elements. It reminded Akira of the ancient wisdom from his past life. Without a single piece of modern technology or satellite imagery, ancient farmers had perfectly mapped out the Twenty-Four Solar Terms, creating a flawlessly accurate agricultural calendar simply by watching the earth.
They couldn't explain the molecular or atmospheric science behind the shifting seasons, but through generations of patient observation, they decoded the patterns.
The evolution of Breathing Styles followed the exact same logic. The founding Hashira couldn't see the shimmering threads of reality like Yoriichi, but by immersing themselves in the roaring winds or crashing waves, they absorbed the characteristics of those elements into their flesh and bone, forging their respective techniques.
Wind Breathing encapsulated the tearing sharpness, the howling ferocity, and the chaotic unpredictability of a natural gale. It made perfect sense why someone like Sanemi, with his volatile, restless temper and aggressive disposition, connected so deeply with the wind.
Flame Breathing demanded an intimate connection with the consuming nature of fire. It was the very reason the Rengoku family upheld such a peculiar tradition: pregnant women of their bloodline would spend hours gazing into roaring hearths. This prolonged exposure was believed to imprint the essence of fire onto the unborn child, granting them an innate, burning affinity for Flame Breathing from the moment they drew their first breath.
Masters of Water Breathing invariably settled near running rivers or lakes. It wasn't merely for the convenience of drawing fresh water; it was an environmental classroom for their disciples. Mount Sagiri was a prime example. The roaring waterfall behind the mountain, fed by a surging river and emptying into a deep, tranquil pool below, offered a perfect, living display of water's dual nature—its crushing hardness and yielding softness, its violent momentum and absolute stillness.
And then there was Thunder Breathing. Akira knew the grueling requirements for perceiving natural lightning all too well.
During his brutal training days under Jigoro Kuwajima on Peach Mountain, a clear sky meant swinging a sword, but a thunderstorm meant something entirely different. Whenever black clouds rolled in and the heavens cracked open, the old man would force him out into the torrential rain, demanding he stare into the sky to observe the jagged, blinding descent of lightning.
That very practice was how he finally broke through his bottleneck with the Thunderclap and Flash. He had grasped the explosive contraction of muscles during his first true perception of a lightning strike. He couldn't really blame himself for struggling initially. In his previous life, he had been a wage slave fighting just to keep a roof over his head. When it rained back then, his only concern was avoiding getting soaked, catching a cold, and losing precious wages to medical bills. He never had the luxury or the leisure to stand in a field and admire the majesty of a thunderstorm.
Stone Breathing, on the other hand, required tempering human flesh and bone until it mirrored the unyielding density of solid rock. This was the grueling legacy left behind by its founder, making the entry threshold for the style absurdly harsh. If one looked strictly at the raw physical prerequisites, Stone Breathing demanded an even tougher vessel than Sun Breathing itself.
The difference lay in the mind. Sun Breathing required an almost divine level of comprehension and spiritual clarity. Stone Breathing operated on a much simpler, more brutal philosophy: absolute strength produces miracles. As long as the body could endure the hellish conditioning, the mental comprehension required was significantly lower.
Because every Breathing Style tapped into these natural laws, their execution manifested the visual 'special effects' that trailed their blades—the roaring flames, the crashing tides, the crackling lightning. Yet, they were ultimately just that: visual illusions born from the sheer pressure and speed of the blade.
To manifest actual, burning fire or genuine, electrocuting lightning from a sword swing would require more than just perceiving the rules of nature—it would require rewriting reality itself. That was a domain strictly forbidden to mortals. Even with the god-like clarity of the Transparent World, a human could only sense the rules, never command them.
Armed with this deep new understanding, Akira felt a spark of genuine excitement. He had previously believed his Thunder Breathing forms had reached their absolute zenith, that his movements could not be polished any further. Now, a new path stretched out before him. He finally had a direction to take his blade to the next evolutionary step.
All he had to do now was wait for the next thunderstorm.
He glanced up at the serene, cloudless blue sky stretching endlessly above him. Without a storm, the atmospheric rules governing lightning were far too dormant, too deeply hidden. Even while fully immersed in the Transparent World, Akira found it nearly impossible to trace those specific, volatile threads.
In fact, if he hadn't already ingrained the essence of Thunder Breathing into his very muscle memory, he wouldn't have been able to sense the dormant lightning rules at all. They were just that obscure, hiding quietly in the background of the world.
Still... perceiving the Dao, imitating the laws of heaven and earth... A dry, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This is starting to sound exactly like the plot of a xianxia cultivation novel.
As the thought crossed his mind, his mood shifted into something a bit more wry and nostalgic.
Unfortunately, this was ultimately a mortal realm. There were no flying immortals here, no magical cores to condense, and no heavenly tribulations to face—just flesh, blood, and man-eating demons.
Shaking his head to clear away the ridiculous, unrealistic fantasy, Akira blinked, letting his focus soften as he quietly withdrew from the ethereal world of the Transparent World.
[Inorin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me!
Want to read ahead on our official home, or unlock 50 advanced chapters (plus an Ad-Free experience) to feed your addiction? Help keep this shameless translator alive here:
(P.S. Replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
🌐 Official Website: elysianreads[.]com
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters & Ad-Free): patreon[.]com/InorinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/InorinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]