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The Slayer trekked across the open fields of the new land he's found himself in. His thoughts were occupied with his outburst from earlier. It was so unnatural for him, he couldn't explain why he did it. Perhaps it was Nezuko; However, they just met so the Slayer has no reason to feel any sort of attachment towards her. That little girl he saw in his head, her voice… Just who was she? Thinking about it makes him feel unnaturally relaxed yet anxious, he didn't know why.
The Slayer pondered on this as he recalled his past. However, he hit a roadblock with his memories due to his amnesia. After waking up from the Sarcophagus: he had no recollection of anything that happened. All he had when he woke up was his unyielding rage towards the demons, that's it. Over time, he remembered bits and pieces of his past, going as far as when he was taken prisoner to Argent D'nur. Ofcourse, he remembers fighting demons for a very long time, perhaps too long, before he wound up in Sentinel Prime, one of the many cities under the Night Sentinel's control.
It was there, where he had to fight for his freedom within their gladiatorial arenas and earn his place amongst the Night Sentinels. He made many allies during his time there, but when the Khan Maykr's true intent was revealed and they were forced to pick sides: He was parted from those he deemed his closest friends. Many of them met an untimely fate during the following civil war but the best of the best were handpicked to be resurrected as demons. One of them came to be the Marauder he knows today.
Despite remembering that chunk of his life, he knows there's more to it. There's a humongous blank spot before any of that happened, events he couldn't seem to recall. Perhaps it's within those memories where he'll understand who's voice that was that interrupted him earlier.
He looked up to see a crow flying past in a hurry, it looked similar to the crows he's seen already. The ones that spoke and gave announcements to the demon slayers. He found it odd how an animal such as a crow would be able to talk. Then again, if parrots can: So can anything else.
The Slayer then realized that he had not snagged any of the Nichirin Blades from the Hashira, he was too caught up on the events that were happening to think clearly and abduct a sword for himself. Hopefully this stranger that the Slayer is preparing to meet with can arrange for him to receive his own blade.
It wasn't until several hours later of nothing but walking through the open fields where he found what he hoped was Mount Sagiri. It was difficult to distinguish from the others due to the similarity but the directions he was given pointed towards this specific mountain.
When he approached the forest, he noticed a figure in the distance remaining still. He might as well check it out, hopefully this person can show him the way. As he approached, he got a better look at the person's attire and it was an odd yet refreshing change of pace. The person waiting on the road is presumably an older man who has his face obscured with a strange but stylized red mask with a protruding nose. He wore a simple light-blue kimono and black pants underneath.
As the Slayer approached the stranger, the person spoke up in a gravelly voice: "You must be the Hellwalker that Tanjiro spoke of." That's when the Slayer stopped a few feet in front of the man. "There is no need to introduce yourself, Tanjiro has caught me up to speed with your current predicament; And I must say: it's certainly one to take note of."
The warrior looked the man up and down: this has to be the master that Tanjiro spoke of, the one who can give him more information and potentially a sword. The man continued with his introduction, "I am Sakonji Urokodaki, the one who taught Tanjiro the basics of Water Breathing." The Warrior stood still, waiting for the man in front of him to finish with the introductions and get to the point. "Come this way, I would say 'you must be very tired from that journey', but judging from your physique: It was but a miniscule task for you." Urokodaki turned the other way and began to make his way into the trees covering the mountain.
The Slayer felt partially relieved that he was dealing with someone with a brain. The Hashira he wasted his time with made him grow very weary. The Slayer followed behind, entering into the forest after the old man. As they hiked along, Sakonji spoke up, "I find it hard to believe that you exist, Hellwalker. I do not doubt the words of my student and if the old master has allowed this and acknowledged your existence: I have no other choice. However, I would like to see, with my own eyes, what you are capable of."
After several minutes of hiking up the mountain, they began to reach the part of the environment that was covered in snow. They soon reached an opening in the forest and in the center of it was a large boulder tied by a rope. Urokodaki turned towards the Slayer and stated, "This is my test for you: I want you to cut this boulder in half." The Hellwalker looks at the boulder, then to the old man, and back to the boulder. The Slayer approached the obstacle, it was about as tall as he was. How did this old man get the boulder here? This is assuming Urokodaki was capable of lifting this large object. The Slayer extends his arm blade, placing his hand onto the rock before bringing his blade down to strike it.
As expected from the Slayer, he chipped off the chunk where his blade reached. He quickly went for the second cut, going deeper and deeper into the rock as though he were cutting a watermelon. The old man's voice interrupted the Slayer as he shouted, "Enough! You've already failed the test." The warrior gave the old man a baffled look through his helmet. He wasn't even done cutting yet, how the hell did he already fail? Urokodaki walked up to the boulder that the Slayer was atop of and explained, "I asked for you to cut that boulder in half, not cut it like a fruit."
The Slayer felt like facepalming a thousand times for what he was just hearing. Yeah, what else is the Slayer supposed to do with such a thick boulder?
"Tanjiro was able to cleave this boulder in two with one slice. I'm amazed that you aren't capable of that same feat." The Slayer had to do a double-take upon hearing this, looking to the boulder and imagining that scrawny kid slicing this boulder in one go. Especially with that dinky little blade he had, the thing would snap! He would need something as durable as his arm blade to withstand that level of punishment. The old man informed the Slayer, "Don't misunderstand me. I find it impressive that you are able to cut the boulder with such a blade, it is a work of art; However, you are relying on the durability of the blade, not your own skill. You might as well be wielding a club and I would see no difference."
The Slayer hopped off the boulder in frustration, storming towards the older man who didn't flinch. The older man simply asked, "Could I see your blade?" The Slayer raised it for him to see. He leaned in, making a "hmm" sound as he inspected the craftsmanship of the weapon. It was then he remarked: "I see. Your blade is quite a work of art as is your strength. However, strength alone will not kill the demons. Nichirin Blades are fragile and delicate, us demon slayers have to take extra care when using our blades as they are the only thing that can kill a demon. Your brute strength is far too much for a Nichirin Blade to handle, thus, it will shatter as a result. You must learn restraint and finesse in order to wield a Nichirin Blade properly or else you'll never be able to kill a demon with one."
The Slayer considered the man's statement. Yes, the blades were insanely fragile compared to everything else he's used in the past. Sakonji looked the Slayer in the eyes despite both of theirs being obscured and further explained, "You will need to hone your swordsmanship if you wish to kill demons during your stay here, Hellwalker." The old man disappointedly walks away. As he leaves, he says to the warrior, "Only through proper training can you utilize a blade to its fullest no matter its durability. Until you master these basic principles: I'm afraid I'm unwilling to share any information with you until these mistakes have been corrected."
This is where the Slayer had to decide whether or not to follow after the old man and accept his teachings. On one hand, he was extremely frustrated upon hearing this, it felt like he just wasted his time. However, he had to take a minute to really consider his situation. He's currently stuck in this dimension full of regenerating vampire demons that are weak to the sun and these blades. He's going to need to adapt to the situation if he wants to make any progress in returning to his world. If learning to use a blade properly will enhance his capacity to rip and tear, so it must be done. Whatever it takes to get rid of the demons.
Casting his pride aside, the Slayer follows after the old man back to his shed which was much further down the mountain. Once arriving and seeing the Slayer chose to follow, Urokodaki got to work setting up training equipment for the warrior to use. One of the many activities the man took part in was constantly swinging his arm blade. He was offered a wooden sword to practice with but declined. He felt the most at-home with his arm blade, so he needed to practice with it. It was very easy for the warrior to burn through several thousand reps without getting tired. However, after continuously swinging for an extended period of time: Sakonji picked up a mistake with the Slayer's swinging patterns as he stated, "Your blade would've shattered a thousand times over by now, swing with more precision and control. Do not use full force when swinging your blade. It's a waste of energy. It's more effective to rely on small, swift movements opposed to something else."
Urokodaki would give the Slayer bits of advice here and there, but it all came down to repetition and practice. Everything else he could offer the Slayer is obsolete because the warrior is quite capable physically. All that was really there was to refine the man's technique with the blade. As part of the Slayer's training, he was asked to occasionally cut a tree every thousand reps to see if he felt any improvement. He didn't, at least, that's what he thinks. He couldn't really tell because every object he's cut so far crumbled to the might of his swings. He couldn't really tell how efficiently he was cutting the object.
Many hours passed and night soon fell, both men retreated to the safety of the old man's hut where they sat around a soothing campfire. As they sat, Urokodaki brought up a suggestion he had for the Slayer. "I believe it would be in your best interest to learn a few breathing forms similar to what Tanjiro has. These forms are capable of enhancing your physical prowess and improve your skills with a blade. What do you say?" The Slayer thought back to the breathing forms he's seen thus far from Inosuke. He couldn't comment on much about Inosuke's breathing forms because the name of his attack hurt the Slayer's pride more than the demon's skin.
He looks to the old man briefly, the individual waiting for a response only to be met with silence from the Slayer who turns to look at the burning campfire. They remained in silence for a period before the Sakonji abruptly got up to tell the Slayer, "It's best that you get some rest now; We don't have much time to waste. I'll see you in the morning when you're prepared for more training." He showed the Slayer to his room and bed that he would sleep in. The warrior nods in approval and has the door closed behind him, leaving the man in the room by himself. He notices a nearby shelf to place his helmet as he goes to remove it. The feeling of air smacked against his face as he was given room to breathe. He gently places the piece of equipment on the shelf and lays atop the bed given to him.
The bed was strangely relaxing, perhaps it had been a while since he had given himself a moment to just rest. He felt his body give out very quickly. It was like something was happening to him but he was simply overthinking it. He hadn't allowed himself to rest for so long he forgot the sensation. In a matter of seconds, the warrior went out like a lightbulb as his eyes shut.
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That's when the Slayer was taken to a dream, a strange dream where he saw people and faces he was unfamiliar with. The setting was inside of a district area with old and decrepit buildings. Unfortunately, a majority of them seemed to have been destroyed from a battle. Right outside, in the middle of the street, were a group of people in ragged clothing standing in a line; Surrounding these people were a group of soldiers pointing their guns towards the people who clung to one another for safety. An officer entered the scene, asking one of the men present:
"What's the situation, soldier?"
The soldier in question turns to face his commanding officer and salutes. He is a large man with a square-like face, shaved beard, and blue eyes. The uniforms the soldiers wear are identical with their urban-based camo scheme and tactical gear. The soldier answers his superior, "Sir, we found some civilians hiding within the buildings. We rounded them up just to be safe but I'm pretty sure they're not hostile."
The officer gives the soldier a smug look before coldly responding, "Good, now open fire." This command made some heads turn but the majority of men trained their weapons on the civilians who cowered away in fear.
The soldier dropped his arms as he saw the horrified expressions plastered on the civilians' faces. He pleads to his officer, "But sir- they're just civilians."
The officer was quick to retort, quickly changing to a frustrated yet authoritative tone, "These people are conspiring with terrorists. Therefore, they're equally as dangerous and should be treated as a threat. They are no better than the terrorists we fight! Now fire your gun, Taggart, or I will." The Soldier began to shake with a mix of fear and anger as he raised his gun along with the rest of his platoon. His blood boiled when he aimed his scopes towards the harmless civilians. This was wrong, they don't deserve this. They're just people, trying to survive a war they don't understand. "Aim!" The officer commanded, readying all the troops to fire on command.
No, Taggart was not going along with this nonsense. His gut told him this was wrong and he chose to listen to it. He could care less for what happens next. Fueled by rage: the soldier clubs the officer across the face with his rifle before pinning the man to the floor and beating him to a bloody pulp covered in bruises.
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The dream ended there, and everything else was a haze. It all faded to black for the Slayer who fell deeper into his unconscious state.