Then came the farewells — the farewell to the people of the demon-slaying village.
Hiraikotsu had been returned. The Village Elder's ashes had been handed over to the Elder. The dispute with Tsubaki had been settled. Everything that needed to be done had been done.
"Lady Kikyō, safe travels!" Deba called out from the gate, waving after them.
The white-haired old woman beside him said nothing — she only gave a small, quiet nod.
"We will." Kikyō answered simply, then turned and walked on.
The white-robed, red-hakama figure grew smaller and smaller in the morning light.
Kōbe Hikaru followed at her back, pausing to glance once more at the village built against the mountainside. The demon skulls hanging on the wooden fence still gleamed a ghastly white in the sunlight — like countless hollow eyes watching them go.
This journey, at last, was over.
• • •
The two retraced the road they had come by.
The mountain path wound between lush, dense trees on either side. Sunlight filtered down through gaps in the leaves, scattering shifting, dappled patterns across the ground.
As he walked, Kōbe Hikaru kept to his old habit — running through the events of the past few days in his mind, turning them over piece by piece.
That kind of review had become almost second nature to him. It had to be. If he wanted to grow stronger, if he wanted to survive in a world torn by chaos, he needed to constantly take stock of himself.
First: Hiraikotsu.
Affinity maxed. He had gained the ability — [Bone Soul Mutation].
That ability had evolved his [Shield-Bone Mutation] into something that combined offense and defense alike: bone spines and bone blades that could erupt from any point on his body.
Second: the Shikon Jewel.
Naohi's affinity had climbed to 56. After [Spirit Sight], the next talent had unlocked — the ability called [Spiritual Intuition].
At this rate, once affinity hit maximum, he would likely gain direct control over spirit power. The third threshold was still a ways off, but progress was steady.
Then there was the comb — Sakagami Ketsura's comb.
Still in the negatives, but it had risen from -30 to around -15.
Slow and steady. No need to rush.
And finally — the demon.
The world of Demon Slayer existed here too. Which meant that the progenitor of all demons — Kibutsuji Muzan — was lurking somewhere in this world as well.
Those undying demons were wandering about out there. Not in great numbers, but a nuisance all the same.
Then again — also an opportunity.
If he could find a Nichirin Blade — one of those weapons imbued with solar energy — it might very well become another stepping stone toward greater strength. In a world of the extraordinary, the essence of sun and moon, even in the smallest quantities, would inevitably bring no small improvement.
But that was all for later.
Right now, what mattered most was… Corporeal Sublimation.
That was his greatest bottleneck at the moment.
As he had noted before: Six Transformations was the ceiling of Physical Transformation — and he had already reached that threshold.
Iron-Skin Mutation, Razor-Eye Mutation, Bowman's Mutation, Spearman's Core Mutation, Bone Soul Mutation, Blood Mutation.
Six abilities. Six parts of the body. In theory, adding a seventh was impossible.
And yet — he had done it.
Through fusion. Through layering new detail onto an existing Transformation.
It seemed, on the surface, to offer no path toward true Corporeal Sublimation — but Kōbe Hikaru knew better. It helped. It absolutely helped.
The threshold for Sublimation was extraordinarily high. It meant control over mass, volume, and density. It meant altering fundamental physical properties. It even meant containing and commanding elemental attributes.
A demon that had achieved Sublimation was worlds apart from an ordinary one. For a normal demon to reach Sublimation required decades — sometimes centuries — of accumulation.
He had only crossed over a few months ago. Breaking through to Sublimation in a short time was, by any measure, nearly impossible.
True, he could acquire new transformations by maxing affinity with non-living objects — and in theory, if he could court an elemental object, he could gain elemental-attribute mutations. But that was hard.
Because he was not a born elemental demon, mastering elements was difficult — and becoming an element was utterly out of reach. Even if he maxed the affinity of an object bearing elemental power, the most he could gain was the ability to control that element. That was Physical Transformation, not Sublimation.
For Kōbe Hikaru, changes in mass and density were, without question, the more attainable path. It was just that reaching it quickly through conventional means was genuinely difficult.
Unless… he used quantitative change to trigger a qualitative leap.
Just as he had already done — and succeeded — with fusion.
[Bone Soul Mutation].
The original Shield-Bone Mutation had only hardened bones. But after absorbing Hiraikotsu's ability, those bones could now grow, reshape themselves, and erupt from any point on his body.
In essence it was still within the realm of Physical Transformation — but it was drawing close to the edge of Sublimation.
Which brought him to the question: what if he kept filling the other Transformations — each of the Six — with new layers? What if he kept enriching every single one?
Six Transformations was the limit. But the capacity within those Six Transformations was not.
This was a road no one had ever walked.
Most demons drifted through existence in a dull stupor, with none of Kōbe Hikaru's instinct for analysis and review. Yet even under pure instinct, they all strained to absorb the turbid demon-qi drifting freely through heaven and earth — seeking to increase the number of their Transformations, chasing a faster breakthrough to Sublimation.
No demon had ever thought to push the foundation of the Physical Transformation stage to its absolute limit before moving on. It was too slow. Too exhausting. And not even guaranteed to work.
But Kōbe Hikaru was different. He had the System.
He could pursue non-living objects and continuously gain new abilities. For him, that was actually the faster road — the road better suited to who he was.
As long as he found enough compatible targets… he could pack every single Transformation to the brim.
Turn a hill into a mountain. And then — use sheer, overwhelming quantity to shake the threshold of quality.
This line of thinking, to his mind, should work. Difficult, yes — but not impossible.
If he could pull it off, he might even complete multiple transformations all at once. In a single leap, go from Six Transformations to the eighth — or even the ninth.
The key was finding more suitable material to pack into the Six. Weapons. Objects. Other non-living things the System could recognize.
Max the affinity, gain the talent. Stack enough talents, and they layer into the Transformations. Push the layering far enough… and perhaps Sublimation would trigger.
Kōbe Hikaru reached his conclusion.
He lengthened his stride and caught up to Kikyō ahead of him. His mood was considerably lighter than before.
At least he had found a direction.
…
But — in the very instant Kōbe Hikaru's thoughts settled, Kikyō suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.
The wind from ahead surged harder — wilder, more turbulent, as if a great wave were rolling in.
"What is it?" Kōbe Hikaru raised his head.
And then he saw Kikyō's expression.
That usually cool, composed face had its brows drawn tight. Something rare had surfaced in those jet-black eyes — a deep, heavy weight.
He followed her gaze.
Ahead lay a wide, open plain.
It should have been farmland. There should have been farmers working in the fields. Even in a world overrun with demons and spirits, human civilization still held sway. During the day, the energy of light was fierce and demon-qi ran thin — the demons rarely rampaged, and people still rose at dawn and returned home by dusk.
As long as you were back inside the village walls before nightfall, you were safe enough.
But now —
Not a soul in sight. No crops being tended.
Only desolation.
And corpses.
Bones bleached white. Bodies strewn across the ground as far as the eye could see.
In the distance, a column of black smoke rose — not the gentle, peaceful drift of a cooking fire. Beneath it, tongues of flame leapt skyward.
That was…
"A war?"
Kōbe Hikaru narrowed his eyes. This kind of sight was one he had grown all too familiar with.
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