"Ding, the calculations are complete."
Bell floated in a weightless void, fragments of memory from the Demon Slayer world swirling around him: Hotaru's laughter, Shinobu's gentle encouragement, the clang of steel, and the thunder of Akaza's fists. The blue system panel shimmered into focus.
**Your survival time for this simulation is three years and two months.
Final assessment: C+.
A list appeared before his eyes, each line pulsing with subtle energy. The system's voice rang out, calm and mechanical:
You can choose one of the following three rewards:
Blue Talent: Strong Power, plus a Nichirin-Exclusive sword
A surge of raw strength and a blade forged by your hands attuned to your soul.
The Insect Breathing, Thunder Breathing, and a mysterious gift
Mastery of two rare breathing styles, plus something unknown, perhaps a boon or a surprise.
The forging experience of this simulation
All the knowledge, techniques, and intuition gained at the Swordsmith Village make you a master craftsman in your world.
The options glowed, waiting for Bell's choice. He realised whatever he picked would shape his abilities in Orario, his path as an adventurer, a swordsman, and maybe even a hero.
As he considered his decision, calm washed over him. The simulation had tested him, broken him, and rebuilt him stronger. Now, it was time to choose his reward and prepare for the next world that awaited.
Bell stared at the glowing options, each one tugging at a different dream in his heart. All three rewards were things he longed for: strength, mastery, and the skill of a true craftsman. For the briefest moment, he wavered, imagining what he could do with each, wielding a blade of legend, forging masterpieces in Orario, or fighting with breathing techniques that had once belonged only to another world.
But reason slowly prevailed. The first option was tempting, but he didn't have a forge or the means to maintain such a weapon in Orario. The third, while powerful, was also impractical without his smithy. That left only one of the breathing techniques.
Bell's thoughts sharpened. In the Demon Slayer world, these techniques were humanity's answer to the darkness, special powers that let ordinary people fight monsters far beyond their natural limits. He understood, now, the actual value of what was being offered. With Insect Breathing, Thunder Breathing, and a mysterious gift, he would have the tools to face anything Orario could throw at him.
Without hesitation, Bell silently declared in his heart, "System, I choose option two."
The words echoed into the void. For a moment, nothing happened, no surge of strength, no visible transformation. But then, quietly, knowledge began to bloom within his mind. Every stance, every breath pattern, every memory of practice and mastery from the simulation was there, as if he'd spent years training his body and soul in these arts. Bell's heart trembled with awe, familiarity, muscle memory, and confidence that came with mastery. It was overwhelming, and for a second, he longed to leap to his feet and test his power here and now.
Fortunately, he managed to rein in his excitement. He knew if he unleashed anything out of the ordinary in front of Hestia, she'd panic, and the other gods and goddesses would only get suspicious. For now, he forced himself to remain calm, even as the urge to move, breathe, and test his new skills sang through every fibre of his being.
But Bell knew: he had changed. The next time he stepped into the Dungeon, the world would see the difference.
Bell glanced at his hands, still trembling with the thrill of new power, and couldn't help but grin. "May as well strike while the iron is hot," he murmured. "But this time, I can try it in other directions… see if I can make a windfall. These early simulations should be about feeling out the possibilities of each world, after all."
He took a calming breath, steadying his racing heart. There was no time like now to keep pushing forward and explore what else the Transverse Simulator System could offer.
"System, start the second simulation!" he called out silently in his mind.
The familiar blue light enveloped his vision again, the world around him slipping away as the system prepared to send him on his next adventure. Excitement and curiosity warred in his chest. With new abilities and a better understanding of the system's rewards, Bell was ready to see how far he could go and what new worlds awaited him next.
"Ding! The talent is being renewed…"
Bell floated in that familiar liminal space as the system's voice rang out, clear as a bell. Bright icons spun before his eyes, resolving into this round's talents.
"Ding!
Road Nut (white)King of the Big Stomach (white)Nerd (white)Rich Family (green)Talented & Smart (green)"
He blinked, wide-eyed, as the system explained each one:
Road Nut (white): You will become indistinguishable from east to west, and there is a certain chance that you will be able to reach your destination.
King of the Big Stomach (white): Your appetite will increase significantly, and your food will be digested quickly.
Nerd (white): When you discover something is wrong, you will slightly frown and quietly retreat behind everyone, reducing your sense of existence. There is a certain chance that you can avoid danger.
Rich Family (green): You will have a considerable starting capital.
Talented & Smart (green): Your learning ability and talent are above average.
Bell found himself stumped, staring at the options. None of them jumped out with the raw power or unique potential of his previous simulation's talents, but each offered something valuable.
"System," Bell finally said with a decisive breath, "choose Rich Family (green), Nerd (white), and Talented & Smart (green)."
The icons lit up, locking in his choices. Instantly, Bell felt a subtle shift, like a soft breeze rearranging his thoughts. He didn't feel any different physically, but knowledge and instincts quietly settled into place a sense of resourcefulness, a knack for picking up new skills, and a background that promised comfort and opportunity.
Bell's heart pounded in anticipation. The urge to see what sort of world he'd land in this time was as strong as ever. He grinned to himself, already imagining the possibilities. With these talents, maybe he'd try a new strategy, explore a new path, and see just how far he could push the boundaries of the simulation.
And as the new world began to paint itself around him, Bell whispered, "Let's see what this life has in store for me."
"Simulation begins."
Bell blinked as the world reformed around him, the sharp tang of blood and the weight of fear thick in the air. He recognised the spot immediately, he'd returned to the very place where the first simulation had begun. Kanae Kocho was locked in desperate combat with Doma, Upper Moon Two, her blade flashing, her face set with fierce determination. Yet, as before, Doma seemed almost toying with her, his movements effortless, his smile mocking.
Part of Bell wanted to step back and watch, to see if any small change might ripple through the simulation and affect his final evaluation. But regret and a stubborn hope burned in his chest. Was it bravery or recklessness that sent him charging in? Or was it simply the need to try to save the saviour he'd failed once before?
He didn't stop to question. His legs moved on their own, carrying him through the chaos and toward the heart of the battlefield. As Kanae faltered, blood staining her uniform, Bell's heart pounded. He glanced at the nearby Demon Slayer Team members, their faces frozen in fear and despair.
Without hesitation, Bell rushed to them, snatching a Nichirin sword from the trembling hands of a junior slayer. "I'll handle this!" he shouted, not wasting another second.
Doma's gaze flicked to Bell, curiosity and amusement sparking in his eyes. "Oh? A new challenger?"
Bell didn't respond. He surged forward, channelling the full force of his fused Thunder and Insect Breathing, a blur of speed, lightning, and venomous precision. The air crackled with power as he intercepted Doma's next blow, sparks flying where their blades met.
For a heartbeat, Doma's smile faltered. Bell pressed the attack, refusing to give ground, his every movement fueled by the memory of past failure and the desperate hope to change fate. Battered but alive, Kanae stared at Bell with wide, astonished eyes.
This time, Bell was determined: he would not let regret define him. No matter what the system threw his way, he would fight for the future, his and hers.
Both Doma and Kanae were visibly surprised. Doma's eyes widened, and his usual detached amusement was replaced with a flicker of genuine curiosity as he watched Bell's breathing technique, something entirely new, something he'd never seen before. Kanae, struggling to remain upright at the battlefield's edge, instantly recognised the patterns. Her breath hitched, eyes shining with disbelief as she watched Bell weave Insect Breathing with Thunder Breathing. She could see the grace of her sister Shinobu's style intertwined with the electrifying speed of thunder, and for a brief moment, hope flickered in her gaze.
Doma, ever the sadist, couldn't help but taunt. He let out a cold laugh, swirling his fans lazily. "How interesting! Are you two putting on a show just for me? Humans never cease to surprise me." Though he pretended not to care, Doma instinctively unleashed his demonic arts, a shimmering haze of ice crystals filling the air. But this time, Bell's fusion technique was enough. The searing lightning dissolved the mist, and the precise, darting motions of Insect Breathing kept the poisonous chill from settling in their lungs. Neither Bell nor Kanae inhaled the deadly air, and the battlefield was momentarily cleared of Doma's suffocating presence.
Seeing that Bell had disrupted his advantage, Doma's faint smile sharpened into something more dangerous, yet he still underestimated the newcomer. "You're quite bold, little slayer. Let's see how long you last."
Bell didn't hesitate. He shouted the names of his forms, voice ringing with conviction as he launched into a relentless assault:
"Thunderclap and Flash! Butterfly Dance: Caprice!"
His blade became a streak of light and venom, each movement a blend of elegance and raw power. Momentarily taken aback, Doma parried and taunted, but Bell refused to give ground. The other Demon Slayers could only watch in awe as Bell stood between death and hope, fighting not just for survival, but to change the world's fate.
For the first time, the outcome of this bloody dawn was uncertain, and Bell Cranel was at the heart of it all.
Time passed quickly, and dawn was approaching, painting the battlefield in a pale, trembling light. Doma, who had treated the fight as a game, finally realised the seriousness of the situation. His eyes narrowed, his smile faded, and a cold malice overtook his features. With icy resolve, he decided to kill both Bell and Kanae before the sun could rob him of his prey.
But Bell and Kanae refused to give in despite their exhaustion and wounds. Together, they resisted with everything they had. Bell's fused Thunder and Insect Breathing unravelled Doma's frozen haze, Kanae's blade dancing in desperate arcs, drawing on their strength's last dregs. Ultimately, Doma's arrogance cost him: his underestimation of the pair and the coming dawn forced his retreat. Darkness swept back from the growing sunlight, and the Upper Moon vanished into the cold morning, leaving Bell and Kanae battered but alive.
Bell stood there, panting, his sword trembling in his grip as the silence of victory settled over the clearing. He turned to Kanae, watching the sunlight glint on her blood-streaked hair, and realisation crashed over him like a wave.
Ah... did I save her this time?
He was a little stunned. He had only received the breathing techniques Thunder and Insect but lacked the combat experience to wield them as a Hashira would. He hadn't expected to be able to save Kanae, not against an Upper Moon like Doma. The reality of the Demon Slayer world was harsh; if all the Upper Moons ever joined forces, even the strongest slayers might be wiped out.
But no matter how frantic the process, the outcome was undeniably different from before. Kanae was alive. This hard-won victory had softened the regret from his first simulation.
Only the system could answer whether this act would improve his final evaluation, and Bell would have to wait to discover. For now, he allowed himself a brief smile, relief and pride mixing with the lingering tremor of fear.
At least this time, the dawn had brought hope.
Bell returned to his senses, the adrenaline of battle fading as his eyes fell on the familiar white screen hovering before him.
Doma retired, and follow-up support from the Demon Slayer Team also arrived. Shinobu was also in the queue.
Still catching her breath, Kanae called out to her sister, and Shinobu rushed to her side. Kanae explained what had happened, giving Bell a grateful glance. Shinobu listened, her gaze shifting between her sister and Bell with relief, surprise, and curiosity.
Kanae invited Bell to return with them to the Demon Slayer HQ to rest and perhaps be honoured for his role in saving her life. But Bell politely refused, shaking his head with a quiet, grateful smile. He didn't plan to keep close contact with the Demon Slayer Squad this time. He had his own goals and ideas for this simulation.
After saying his goodbyes to the Kocho sisters, Bell set off alone. He used some of his considerable starting capital to hire a carriage, tucking away the Nichirin sword he'd claimed during the battle. The journey was long and winding, but Bell was determined to see what new opportunities and encounters might shape this life.
Relying on vague impressions and memories from his mind, Bell's travels eventually brought him to a small, smoky village nestled at the edge of a mountain. There, he met a humble man named Tanjuro Kamado, who was selling charcoal to the townsfolk. After a brief conversation, Bell offered to help Tanjuro carry his wares back up the mountain.
As they walked together, Bell noticed Tanjuro's laboured breathing and the pallor of his skin. Even though Tanjuro bore himself with quiet dignity, it was clear he was struggling with an illness that weakened him day by day. Bell's heart ached at the sight, and he resolved to do what he could to lend a hand to the Kamado family, curious to see what fate awaited those touched by the threads of destiny.
With every step, Bell felt the simulation's possibilities branching out before him, and a quiet determination settled in his chest. He would forge his legend in this world this time, one choice, one encounter at a time.
As Bell and Tanjuro made their way up the mountain, the crisp air filled with the scent of pine and burning charcoal. They soon reached the Kamado family home, a humble but warm dwelling in the trees. Tanjuro's children quickly gathered at the door, their eyes bright with curiosity. Tanjuro introduced Bell to them: the eldest, Tanjiro, his gentle younger sister Nezuko, and their lively siblings Takeo, Hanako, Shigeru, and Rokuta.
Bell smiled warmly, bowing politely. The family greeted him with such genuine kindness, offering tea, laughter, and stories that Bell felt the familiar ache of belonging. He was no longer a stranger here.
As Bell helped Tanjuro stack the last charcoal, Tanjuro's gaze drifted to the Nichirin sword slung across Bell's back. Once the children had run inside, Tanjuro nodded to Bell, his voice low. "That's a demon slayer's blade, isn't it?" he asked, eyes wise and searching.
Bell nodded, quietly recounting his battle with Doma and how he'd come to possess the sword. Tanjuro listened intently, a thoughtful expression on his face. After silence, Tanjuro spoke, "I know a bit about breath styles myself, not as a swordsman, but as a dancer. My family has passed down the Kagura, the Dance of the God of Fire, for generations. It's more than a dance, it's a way to breathe, move, and endure."
Tanjuro looked at Bell with a gentle seriousness. "If you'd like, I could teach you. It's not much, but it may help you someday."
Grateful and intrigued, Bell agreed without hesitation. He began staying with the Kamado family, helping with chores, using his wealth to improve their standard of living quietly, buying better food, repairing the old roof, and making sure Tanjuro could rest when needed. The Kamados accepted him without reservation, treating him not as a guest but as a family member.
As dusk settled over the mountains, Bell learned a new technique and the meaning of quiet strength, resilience, and love, a lesson as valuable as any sword or breathing style.
Bell's days with the Kamado family in the second year grew into a gentle, fulfilling rhythm. Each morning, he helped with chores, practised his breathing techniques, and cared for Tanjuro as the man's illness slowly sapped his strength. The fusion of Thunder and Insect Breathing had subtly pushed Bell's understanding of breath styles closer to their origin. Under Tanjuro's patient guidance, Bell mastered every form of the Kagura Dance of the God of Fire.
The more he practised, the more he uncovered: hidden within the Kagura was the legendary Breath of the Sun, the source from which all other breathing styles had sprung. Yet, while Bell could now move through the forms gracefully and accurately, his body struggled to endure the strain. The Sun Breathing's power was immense, demanding more than his trained muscles could offer. Undeterred, Bell redoubled his physical training, determined to build a body worthy of the technique.
Living under the same roof for so long, Bell became a constant presence in the Kamado household. Nezuko, especially, was drawn to him. Her shy smiles turned to laughter, and her dependence grew as Bell shared stories of distant lands and fantastical heroes, sometimes intentionally, just letting his imagination spill out. She clung to his words and presence, finding comfort and excitement in his company.
Tanjuro and Kie did not escape this budding closeness. They exchanged knowing glances but made no move to intervene. After all, Bell had proven himself trustworthy and kind. They would not stand in the way if their daughter's heart were drawn to him.
Bell, for his part, was left speechless by this unexpected turn. He hadn't planned any of it. The Kamado family's warmth, Nezuko's gentle affection, and the peace of mountain life were so different from the restless, dangerous world outside. Yet, as he looked at Nezuko's bright eyes and the soft pride in Tanjuro's smile, Bell realised that sometimes, the most significant changes came from the quietest moments.
He accepted this happiness and continued training, driven by gratitude and hope. If he could master sun breathing and forge a future for himself and those he cared for, then maybe, just maybe, this simulation would bring him a reward greater than any he'd imagined.
Bell's physical condition had grown even more formidable half a year later. While he still couldn't maintain Sun Breathing for long stretches, he'd reached a point where he could unleash it in short, powerful bursts without suffering serious consequences, just a temporary loss of strength. His training had paid off, and every muscle in his body now remembered Kagura's dance and the echo of the sun's original breath.
But as Bell grew stronger, Tanjuro's health declined. The once-sturdy man became bedridden, his life force flickering like a candle in the wind. Bell knew there was no way to change this outcome; no herb or breathing technique could save Tanjuro from the relentless march of illness. He stayed by the Kamado patriarch's side, his presence a silent comfort, never speaking of the inevitable.
One quiet evening, Tanjuro called Bell to his bedside. His voice was weak but determined, eyes shining with a final gift to give. "Bell… there's one last thing I can teach you. It's called the transparent world, a technique that lets you see the flow of life and your opponent's movements, as if all barriers have faded."
Tanjuro explained the method, guiding Bell through the mental gates required to open the transparent world. Bell listened, absorbing every detail. Though he couldn't fully master it, his understanding deepened, and a new door in his mind creaked open.
At last, Tanjuro managed a faint smile, his gaze drifting to Nezuko, who lingered just outside the door. "You've been good to my family, Bell. I see how Nezuko looks at you and how you care for her. I'd like you to marry her when the time comes."
Bell was taken aback, words escaping him. He'd come to view the Kamados as his family, their warmth and trust a balm to his soul. After a moment, he nodded solemnly. "I promise. But… I'll wait until Nezuko is of age, and if she truly wishes it."
Tanjuro's eyes filled with gratitude. He reached for Bell's hand, squeezing it gently. "That is more than enough. Thank you, Bell. I leave my family to you."
With that, a peaceful satisfaction settled over Tanjuro's face. He passed away with a smile, and a hint of reluctance at the corners of his mouth, grateful for the safety and happiness left behind.
Bell sat in silence long after, mourning and promising in his heart that he would honour every lesson, every bond. The mountain wind carried away his tears, leaving only resolve behind.
The white system screen flickered into Bell's vision:
"You and the Kamado family buried Tanjuro Kamado together and continued to live with the Kamado family."
Time moved on in gentle, steady waves. Bell remained with the Kamados, helping them through their grief and shouldering whatever burdens he could. He never forgot to exercise, pushing his body and perfecting his breathing techniques with newfound discipline. Gradually, his command over Sun Breathing increased; though he still couldn't maintain it for long, short bursts were now effortless, only costing him strength temporarily rather than causing serious harm.
Yet one thing eluded him: the transparent world. No matter how hard he tried, no matter the hours spent in silent meditation or the intensity of his sparring, that elusive clarity remained just out of reach.
By the third year, Bell felt his power had grown to new heights. He was certain that if he faced Doma again, not only would he survive, he could decapitate the Upper Moon. But a shadow lingered in his heart, a lesson from his previous simulation: Muzan Kibutsuji was still a threat he dared not underestimate. All his training, all his growth, had not yet given him the confidence to face the demon progenitor himself.
One late afternoon, as sunlight slanted through the pines, Nezuko and Tanjiro caught Bell practicing the Kagura dance, only this time with a sword in hand. Their eyes were wide with wonder, and curiosity burned in their questions.
"Bell, why are you doing the dance with a sword? And… those moves, they're not quite the same as Father's," Tanjiro asked.
Bell paused, wiping sweat from his brow. He glanced at Nezuko, then at Kie who had also come outside to watch. Bell understood this was the moment to be honest. He sat the family down and explained the truth, about the sword, about his breathing techniques, about demons and the threat that still lingered in the world. He told them about Sun Breathing, its significance, and why it mattered that someone could wield it.
As he spoke, the Kamados listened in awed, respectful silence. Bell's words weren't just stories this time; they were warnings, promises, and a plea for understanding. He owed them the truth, they were his family now.
When he finished, Tanjiro's gaze was determined, Nezuko's eyes sparkled with pride and trust, and Kie simply nodded, her gentle smile telling Bell he had done the right thing. In that moment, Bell felt a new sense of belonging and responsibility, one that went beyond strength or skill. He had a family to protect, and a future worth fighting for.
Whatever the next challenge, he would face it with everything he had, no secrets, no regrets.
Noticing how secluded and vulnerable the Kamado home was, Bell gathered the family one evening and gently proposed a change. "We should consider moving to the village at the foot of the mountain," he suggested, his tone serious. "It'll be safer, and life will be more comfortable for all of you."
Kie was puzzled at first, reluctant to leave the home she and Tanjuro had built with so much love and memory. But with Bell now Nezuko's fiancé and a trusted guardian, she listened carefully as he explained his reasons, safety, community, and a better future for the children. After thoughtful discussion, Kie agreed, trusting Bell's judgment.
With Bell's considerable funds, the Kamado family soon settled into a sturdy, cheerful home in the village. Life blossomed for them, better food, new clothes, laughter around the table. Bell remained diligent in his training, never forgetting the threats that lurked in the shadows, and his body grew ever stronger.
By the fourth year, Bell had fully adapted to the demands of Sun Breathing. He could wield its power in battle without fear of collapse, and the elusive transparent world felt almost within reach, just one step away. Everything seemed to be developing toward a brighter future.
But fate had other plans.
One moonless night, a cold, unnatural stillness settled over their home. Bell's instincts screamed a warning as Muzan Kibutsuji himself appeared at the doorstep, his presence sending a chill through every corner of the house. Bell's heart pounded, he instantly understood why Muzan was here. After Doma's retreat, Muzan had read his memory, memorized Bell's scent, and tracked him down.
"Tanjiro, take Nezuko and the others and run!" Bell barked, voice filled with urgency. Nezuko hesitated, refusing to leave his side, but Bell reprimanded her sharply, desperate to keep her safe. The momentary delay was all Muzan needed.
The demon lord struck with inhuman speed and cruelty, slaughtering everyone, Tanjiro, Nezuko, the younger siblings, and even Kie, before Bell's horrified eyes. He fought with all his might, but he was outmatched. The sight of Nezuko's dying eyes burned into his soul, filling him with a rage and guilt so fierce it threatened to consume him.
It was because of me. They're all dead because of me.
Driven by anguish and a desire for vengeance, Bell unleashed Sun Breathing in a blinding display, pushing his body beyond its limits. "Muzan!" he shouted, his voice trembling with fury, "What do you think of human life?"
The question struck a deep nerve in Muzan, echoing in his very cells, a memory so ancient and terrifying that for a moment, Muzan nearly scattered himself to the wind in fear. But then he realized Bell's true strength had not yet reached the point of true threat. Suppressing his fear, Muzan attacked with renewed, merciless force.
The gap in power was insurmountable. Under the crushing weight of death, something in Bell finally broke through. In a flash of clarity, he opened the transparent world, he saw Muzan's movements, the flow of his monstrous blood, clear as day. But it was too late, his body was spent, his strength gone. He couldn't raise his sword, couldn't defend himself.
All he could do was watch, helpless, as Muzan's final blow came down and severed his head, darkness swallowing the world.
Bell's last sensation was a mix of regret, anguish, and a burning promise: If there was another chance, he would protect those he loved, no matter what it took.
"Ding! You Died"
"Simulation has ended. The final result is being calculated..."
Bell drifted in the familiar void, the terrible scene still fresh behind his eyes, the Kamado family's lifeless forms, Nezuko's fading gaze, Muzan's monstrous silhouette blotting out the world. He barely registered the system's mechanical chime as a new screen flickered into existence.
**The final agreement is completed. You have survived four years and one month.
Final evaluation: A-.
You can choose one of the following rewards:
Because there is no orange talent, you can choose all five talents, plus an exclusive Nichirin Sword.
Sun Breathing and support moves, plus an exclusive Nichirin Sword.
Transparent World, the combat experience of this simulation, and an exclusive Nichirin Sword.
The rewards were undeniably generous, the kind of boons any adventurer would dream of. Yet Bell felt no joy. The system's cold efficiency only made the grief sharper. He couldn't shake the image of Nezuko, refusing to abandon him, dying because she trusted him. The pain of losing the Kamados, the family he'd come to love, gnawed at his heart.
Empathy, regret, and guilt tangled inside him. He had gained so much, but at what cost? All Bell could think about was Muzan, how desperately he wanted to drag the demon lord into the sun, to make him feel the pain and loss he'd inflicted on so many.
Bell closed his eyes, breath trembling. He knew that whatever reward he chose, it would be with a new resolve: to never let such a tragedy repeat, to grow strong enough to change fate itself.
And next time, he swore, Muzan would not escape the sun.
Bell's thoughts churned in the void as the rewards shimmered before him. All he could think was: When I finally get an S level assessment and can enter the world of Demon Slayer for real, I'll make sure Muzan tastes wisteria flowers and the sun!
But the bitterness of loss clung tightly to his heart. Nezuko's death haunted him, the regret of his own weakness gnawing at his soul. He finally understood, these simulations weren't just a trick or a shortcut to power. They were a crucible, a trial that hammered home a simple truth: If you're not strong enough, you can only be slaughtered. Power is everything.
Bell gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing with newfound determination. Now that he'd figured out how to improve his assessments, he would chase that S rank with everything he had. But first, he needed to choose his reward. The options were tempting, but his mind quickly sorted through them: reward one was the most useless for his current path, and reward two, while powerful, was something he could learn again in a future run.
"System, choose option number three," Bell declared, his voice steady.
Instantly, a profound change swept through him. Waves of combat experience surged into his mind, every battle, every mistake, every desperate maneuver from the simulation perfectly etched into his memory. More than that, a strange clarity awakened: he could see the flow of blood in his veins, the structure of his bones, the subtle rhythm of every breath. The transparent world was now his to command.
He could sense the condition of his own body, speed up or slow down his blood flow with a thought, and even anticipate the movements of an opponent with uncanny precision. His breathing became smoother, more exact, as if every cell in his body had been tuned to the perfect rhythm.
Yet there was no joy, only resolve. Bell swore to himself, Next time, I'll never let myself be this powerless again. Next time, I will be the sun that burns away the darkness, and Muzan, you will have nowhere left to hide.
What a miraculous power, worthy of being called the supreme domain! Bell marveled as he experimented with the Transparent World, amazed at how precisely he could sense every detail inside his own body and the environment around him. The ability was breathtaking, almost overwhelming in its clarity. After a brief, simple test, Bell consciously closed the Transparent World, feeling the supernatural perception vanish instantly. He let out a sigh of relief; the intensity of that vision was something even he needed to use sparingly.
With his senses returning to normal, Bell suddenly remembered: Where is my Nichirin Sword? He was puzzled, after acquiring Transparent World and all that combat experience, he hadn't seen any sign of the promised blade. It didn't seem like the system would cheat him out of his reward, so he started looking around.
Sure enough, as his gaze returned to the white system screen, an image of a backpack appeared. When Bell focused on it, the backpack burst open with a soft glow, revealing a grid of storage spaces inside. Resting quietly in one of the compartments was a beautiful Nichirin sword with its scabbard.
The moment Bell thought about the sword, it materialized in his palm, the familiar weight and balance igniting a spark of joy in his eyes. He slowly drew the blade, admiring the craftsmanship. The sword hadn't changed colour yet, but shimmered with a dazzling, pristine light, its edge flawless and its aura resonating with power.
"What a pretty sword," Bell muttered softly, running a finger along the flat of the blade. As if reacting to his words and presence, the Nichirin sword began to change colour right before his eyes, the transformation visible as the metal caught the light, a sign that this weapon was already beginning to recognise its true master.
Bell watched as his Nichirin sword shimmered and shifted, the blade's surface swirling from a deep blue to a vibrant purple, lightning crackling along its length. The colours danced together, reflecting his mastery of both Thunder and Insect Breathing. The sight sent a thrill through him, this was proof of his journey, the battles fought, and the power he'd earned.
He slowly slid the blade back into its sheath, the satisfying click grounding him in the present. Placing the sword at his side, Bell felt the urge to leap into his next and final simulation for the day. The system's gifts, the rush of new strength, and the palpable change in his aura all made his heart race with anticipation.
But as he looked outside, he saw the sun sinking behind Orario's rooftops, twilight creeping over the city. With a sigh, Bell tamped down his excitement. There was no rush; patience had gotten him this far. He gathered his things and headed back to the old church.
Inside, Hestia was already home, humming quietly as she prepared dinner. She paused, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Bell's sweaty, disheveled appearance. More than that, she seemed to sense something different in the air around him, a shift in presence, a new density to his aura.
"Bell, you've been out training?" she asked, half suspicious, half concerned. "You look like you've run a marathon in the Dungeon! Go take a bath, now. And don't even think about skipping. When you're done, I'll update your falna. You know I haven't checked it since… well, since the Minotaur incident."
Bell managed a sheepish nod and slipped away to the bath, the warmth of the water washing away the grime and tension of the day. As he soaked, he reflected on how much had changed, and how much more was yet to come.
Meanwhile, Hestia returned to her small kitchen, determined to finish dinner for the two of them. She glanced at the closed bathroom door, curiosity twinkling in her eyes. Whatever Bell had been up to, she had a feeling tonight's falna update would bring more surprises than either of them expected.
When Bell finally returned to Orario, the weight of his latest simulation still heavy in his chest, he found Hestia waiting with a gentle smile and a worried look. That night, she insisted on updating his falna. As she traced the familiar script, divine light flickered—then flared, brighter than ever before.
Hestia's eyes widened as new skills and abilities blossomed across Bell's back. She quickly copied the results onto a slip of paper, not hiding anything—especially not the skill that had always defined him.
Bell Cranel — Hestia Familia
Level: 1
Strength: D520
Endurance: D550
Dexterity: D502
Agility: C615
Magic: I0
Skills:
Liaris Freese: Rapidly accelerates experience gain for those with an unyielding will to grow stronger. Now provides powerful resistance to charm and mental manipulation. (Note: This drive is rooted in determination, not infatuation for any adventurer.)
Transparent World: Allows the user to perceive life energy, muscle movement, blood flow, and weaknesses in both themselves and others, resulting in heightened situational awareness and almost predictive combat sense.
Breath of Thunder (Mastered): Grants mastery over Thunder Breathing forms and techniques.
Breath of Insect (Mastered): Grants mastery over Insect Breathing forms and techniques, including agility and poison techniques.
Combat Intuition: Battle experience now translate to instinctive reaction, flawless timing, and uncanny battlefield decision-making.
Bell looked over the paper, heart pounding as he saw the sum of his journey. His stats had soared, but more than that, every new ability reflected the burden, and clarity, he'd gained from his trials.
Hestia smiled, a little teary-eyed. "You really did it, Bell. You're growing so much… and this time, it's all your own."
Bell nodded, a determined light in his eyes. This growth wasn't for the sake of being noticed or loved, it was for the strength to protect, to endure, and to never let tragedy repeat. With Transparent World, his breathing arts, and unbreakable will, Bell was ready for whatever the Dungeon, and destiny, would throw at him next.