Chapter Thirty-Two: February Flew By, and the Sword Must Be Swifter Than Thought!

Near noon, Sylphy arrived.

She stood near the outer perimeter, close to the fence, tilting her body and lowering her head to gaze intently at the wild grass by her feet. Had she not been glancing toward the courtyard with flickering eyes every so often, Allen would have assumed she was simply passing by.

Paul, who had claimed he would be training extra hard today, couldn't help but sigh in relief at the sight. He clutched his forehead and shooed the two children out to play. After being pestered by the children with ten thousand "whys" earlier that day, he was clearly suffering from cognitive overload.

Allen walked toward Sylphy, smiling and preparing to wave, but suddenly froze in awkwardness.

*Being seen by children shouldn't matter... Haha... It's fine... Even if people in this world mature early...*

"It's... it's okay. About yesterday, I... I don't mind."

*What do you have to mind!*

Allen pinched his forehead, feeling a headache coming on, and spoke weakly.

"Then... let's just pretend nothing happened... Rudy? ...Hm? Rudy??"

Allen noticed Rudy hadn't followed. He turned his head to see Rudy standing a meter away, awkwardly greeting Sylphy. It wasn't just the embarrassment of their previous intimacy; Rudy was also notoriously bad at interacting with girls his own age.

Allen blinked.

*Even though Rudy is a pervert, at his core, he’s still a NEET... a giant in words but a dwarf in action. He talks a big game, but when it comes to real practice, he’s the same guy who ended up impotent due to the psychological trauma of Eris leaving him...*

He couldn't help but chuckle. Turning around, he threw an arm around Rudy’s shoulders and headed toward the gate, grabbing Sylphy’s shoulder as well on the way.

"Let's go! Let's go teach Sylphy magic!"

"Don't put your arm around me, Allen!"

"Huh? Shy?"

"Shy... No, I mean I need to go back and get the magic textbook!"

"Ah... oh!"

"Heh..."

"What are you laughing at, Sylphy?? I'm the one getting the book for you!"

"...Rudy, I... I wasn't laughing."

"If you’re going to lie, at least control your expression! What are you laughing at, Allen?"

"I’m laughing at how weak you’ll be in the future, relying entirely on Sylphy to hold you up."

"??"

"??"

...

Two months passed by in laughter, filled with the study of swordsmanship and magic. Time flew by, and it was late May.

Sylphy, just as in the original story, demonstrated extraordinary magical talent. In just two short months, she had mastered most of the spells in the textbook and was currently learning silent casting from Rudy.

During this period, Rudy spent his days behind Allen’s back researching so-called "tactics." At first, he would discuss the possibility of defeating Allen with Sylphy, but after catching Sylphy secretly tipping Allen off, he never showed his research results in front of her again.

June 1st.

After breakfast, Rudy exchanged a look with Allen, then marched out the door amidst cheers and encouragement.

Allen, meanwhile, lazily helped clear the table. Zenith watched Allen with a smile.

"I was quite surprised to hear you two were having a duel. Allen, please go easy on him, okay?"

Allen smiled. He had a good impression of Zenith. Perhaps it was because her personality was the closest to the people he knew in his past life, making her feel familiar and comforting. She had indeed been very kind to him.

...A strange sense of warmth... Is this a home?

Though Allen didn't quite understand the definition of "home," having grown up in an orphanage.

"Rudy is much stronger than you think. Instead of worrying about him, you should worry about me."

Zenith looked at Allen, the corners of her mouth lifting into a smirk identical to Rudy’s eerie smile.

Allen shivered.

Then, he heard Zenith say, "After all, our child is a genius, and very well-behaved too~"

Allen nodded vigorously.

*If stealing the teacher’s underwear counts as being well-behaved.*

Then, Zenith smiled gently and naturally, reaching out to pat Allen’s hair, which he kept carefully brushed flat against his forehead.

"Allen is a genius, too~"

Allen blinked, stunned by Zenith’s expression, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly, Zenith’s face darkened, and she leaned in close to Allen’s face.

"So, you two won't be causing trouble at the clinic again, right..."

Allen coughed awkwardly.

"Certainly not... I know what I'm doing."

Zenith squinted at him, skeptical.

"Uh... the poisoning incident last time was an accident."

"Alright, I won't scare you anymore. Go on, be safe."

"Okay."

Allen stepped out of the house. Paul was already standing in the yard. Paul smiled at him, only to find Allen standing before him, hand on his sword hilt, silent.

Paul tilted his head, asking in confusion, "Is this... are we continuing the morning fencing practice?"

"Yes."

"Oh? Aren't you supposed to be dueling Rudy?"

"He’s still finalizing his tactics. We agreed I wouldn't watch, and Sylphy will come get me when he's ready."

Paul looked down at his sword and smiled.

"I see."

No sooner had the words left his lips than Paul’s sword was out of its sheath. His form blurred into a phantom, the tip of his blade pointed straight at Allen’s throat!

Allen’s pupils shrank, his hand tightening on the hilt.

"Twenty Slashes!"

Sparks flew as Allen instantly parried Paul’s blade, then raised his leg to lash out at Paul’s face.

"Bang!"

The fabric of his pants snapped in the air. Paul caught his lower leg firmly, squinting at the surprised Allen.

"No good. You’re still subconsciously using other styles. I don't recognize the technique you used for the slash—it doesn't look like the Water God Style... Is it a North God Style technique I don't know? The follow-up whip kick is definitely a standard North God Style maneuver."

Allen pulled his leg back, looking grim, and leaped backward to create distance.

Paul rolled his neck and raised his sword above his head, assuming an aggressive high stance.

"If you keep relying on the styles you’re most comfortable with, your Sword God Style will never improve. Haven't I told you that countless times these past two months?"

"Sorry, years of habits are hard to break..."

Whenever he faced Paul’s high-speed thrusts, he would subconsciously use his habitual fighting methods to deflect them. What he had just done was already a restrained version; previously, he would have used the Water God Style entirely.

Why?

At the same level of swordsmanship, the Water God Style had a clear advantage over the Sword God Style. It was his subconscious instinct for self-preservation from his past life at work.

Allen let out a long breath.

*The Sword God Style... before learning the 'Light of Return,' the main way to counter the same style is to be faster than the opponent. Whoever strikes first wins... That means I need to seize the initiative...*

As his mind raced, Paul’s sword struck again. He slashed at Allen’s blade, and as the steel ground against steel, his words struck Allen’s heart like a pendulum.

"The sword must be faster than your thoughts, so why are you always thinking?!"

The blades vibrated and slid apart, and the follow-up strike tore through the air right beside Allen’s ear!