Urokodaki Sakonji was a man of action. He immediately penned a letter and sent it off to headquarters. Truth be told, he'd already written one before, but it no longer sufficed to explain the current situation, so he had to draft a new one.
After finishing the letter, Urokodaki turned his attention to Riku. The kid was already back at it, swinging his blade with unwavering focus.
"You're improving fast," Urokodaki remarked after observing for a bit, his tone brimming with admiration.
Riku had been practicing since last night, and the number of swings he'd racked up was equivalent to what a normal human might achieve in over ten days of training. If it were an ordinary person, their arms would've given out long ago—no way they could handle such a grueling workload.
Urokodaki silently gave thanks that not every demon was like Riku. With this kind of training intensity, even if someone didn't become a master, they'd at least power through a crash course. In just one night, Riku was already looking the part. Watching him swing his blade, you'd never guess that just yesterday he was a total rookie who didn't even know how to grip a sword properly.
"Building a solid foundation is the most important thing. How you respond in any situation depends on your basics," Urokodaki said, stepping beside Riku to guide him further. His tone was dead serious, and Riku could feel the weight of it.
"I get it," Riku replied with a nod. Through the relentless sword swings, he could sense a clear change in himself. The most noticeable was his control over his strength. Wielding a sword wasn't just about raw power—it was a skill. It wasn't about blindly throwing all your force into a swing. Even coordinating your body to fully utilize its strength was a craft in itself.
A beginner with brute strength might only tap into seventy or eighty percent of their potential. But if the current Riku faced off against the Riku from yesterday in a head-on clash, he was confident he'd send his past self sprawling.
"You need to learn control—control over your body. This isn't just about swordsmanship," Urokodaki continued, placing a hand on Riku's shoulder.
Whack!
Riku felt a surge of force. Under its influence, his body lifted off the ground and crashed down uncontrollably.
"If a regular Demon Slayer fell like that while facing a demon, they'd be as good as dead," Urokodaki said, looking at Riku, who was sprawled out on the ground. The kid wasn't just clueless with a blade—he genuinely had no combat experience.
This old man's strength is unreal. You're telling me he's over seventy? Riku thought as he picked himself up, grumbling inwardly. Urokodaki had tossed him to the ground with ease. The old man's technique was masterful, which made sense, but his strength was outright absurd. Who's the demon here?
Riku now understood that compared to weaker demons, he wasn't exactly a pushover. His strength and agility gave him a clear edge. But against this old man? He felt completely outclassed, just like that night when Urokodaki's attacks were too fast for him to even react.
"That's the power of Breathing Techniques. Demons have superior physical abilities, but Demon Slayers counter that with Breathing," Urokodaki explained, sensing Riku's confusion.
Without Breathing Techniques, slaying demons would be nearly impossible for Demon Slayers. Four hundred years ago, the Demon Slayer Corps wasn't so much slaying demons as it was hiding and surviving. It wasn't until Tsugikuni Yoriichi introduced Breathing Techniques that the Corps' combat prowess soared, allowing Slayers to take down demons in droves.
"Can I learn this Breathing Technique?" Riku asked. As expected, Demon Slayers had a special training method, and this Breathing Technique was exactly what he wanted Urokodaki to teach him.
"You can—once you learn to fall properly," Urokodaki replied with a nod. It was possible, but not yet.
"What's a proper fall?" Riku asked, feeling a headache coming on, reminiscent of yesterday's talk about "moderation." He'd heard of the proper way to apologize—showing your belly, was it?—but a proper way to fall?
"The proper way is to get back on your feet as quickly as possible," Urokodaki said, grabbing Riku and tossing him again.
Riku rolled with the momentum, landing on his feet. Got it. It's about redirecting force. He hadn't seen pigs run, but he'd definitely eaten pork. "Rolling when you fall reduces the impact," Urokodaki nodded approvingly. In midair, controlling your body to adjust your fall and minimize damage was a lifesaving fundamental.
Ordinary people just flop when thrown, landing wherever fate decides. But a Demon Slayer who slacks like that in a fight is as good as dead.
"Toss me around as much as you want!" Riku said earnestly. It felt like his first day at the gym, itching to try every piece of equipment, brimming with enthusiasm.
Urokodaki didn't hold back. He threw Riku around in every way imaginable, helping him hone the instinct to control his body midair, training his reflexes. Riku tumbled through the air, experimenting with poses to minimize damage and get up faster. It was a risky training method, but it undeniably sharpened body control.
For Riku, safety wasn't much of a concern. He tried everything, even snapping his neck once by accident.
"…"
Watching Riku train, Urokodaki silently marveled, Thank goodness not all demons are like this. Thank goodness the Demon King doesn't train this way. Riku's progress was visible to the naked eye. No ordinary person could train like this—it wasn't training for them; it was a death sentence.
After a while, Urokodaki left to tend to Kamado Tanjiro, preparing some medicine and massaging the boy's muscles to speed up his recovery. Though Urokodaki was harsh with Tanjiro, his strictness stemmed from care. Demon slaying wasn't a game, and Tanjiro wasn't Riku—snapping a neck wouldn't just heal right up. Urokodaki's tough love was his way of ensuring Tanjiro survived longer.
With Urokodaki gone, Riku went back to swinging his blade, grinding his fundamentals. While others might aim for 1,500 swings a day, he went for ten times that, all in the name of a crash course.
(End of Chapter)