Mushoku Tensei: Sword, Magic Hats, and Romance!

Rudeus blinked.

A Water God–level swordswoman? The head of a main dojo, standing at the peak of Water God Style, and her name is Reida Reia? Sounds like the kind of name that belongs to a cool, imposing beauty. Definitely not an old granny. Allen's so lucky—he actually met someone like that.

"You really met someone that important, Allen? Did you see her fight?"

Allen looked up at him.

"Mm, I guess I just got lucky."

Paul, meanwhile, cast Allen a knowing glance.

Allen gripped the hilt of his sword and continued.

"That's my understanding of Water God Style. As for Sword God Style… I don't know as much yet."

He raised his eyes toward Paul. The man's mouth twitched.

"Uh… I'm more of a 'go with the feeling' type. If I had to sum it up in one word, I'd say: 'intuition.'"

Rudeus perked up.

"Intuition? That sounds awesome."

Allen twitched slightly at the temple.

Paul, that's just another word for 'feeling.' Are you sure this isn't just your personal approach?

Paul tilted his head up, and happened to catch Zenith smiling down at him from the second floor. He smiled back, then turned and added:

"More precisely: battle intuition. What that means in practice is—"

His expression turned serious, almost like flipping a mask.

"Your sword has to be faster than your thoughts."

Rudeus clapped earnestly. "Whoa! That's so cool!"

Allen looked a bit exasperated.

He's said that line at least twenty times by now. But it's so vague—I still don't get it.

I understand the concept of battle intuition. But 'the sword must be faster than thought'? Does that mean focus? Because I always feel focused in a fight…

He shook his head, ready to ask more—but Rudeus beat him to it, his expression unusually earnest.

"What about North God Style?"

Allen looked at him, surprised. Rudeus gave him a little wink, then glanced at Paul.

Paul was deep in thought, brows furrowed like he was about to pull his hair out.

Allen cleared his throat.

"North God Style…"

Before he could finish, Paul visibly relaxed and turned to look at him, clearly relieved.

Allen faltered slightly, then sighed and continued—slightly resigned.

"North God Style is different from the other two. It doesn't have a single universal principle. It's made up of many branches, and each one emphasizes different things."

"Let's take the Kibatt branch as an example—it's the most common one among adventurers. Unlike Water God Style, it doesn't start with analyzing your opponent. And unlike Sword God Style, it doesn't just rush in and stab first, ask questions later. Instead, it adapts to the moment—choosing whatever method will disable the enemy most effectively."

Rudeus frowned.

"That… sounds kind of like Water God Style. Choosing the best response for the situation…"

"Nope. The methods are completely different."

Allen suddenly remembered—Rudeus would eventually face North God Style fighters. He blinked, then said:

"Here—let me show you."

In the blink of an eye, Allen drew his sword and slashed toward Rudeus.

Rudeus flinched and instinctively dodged toward the direction his weight was leaning.

Then—he stumbled, tripped by Allen's extended leg.

He looked up in shock. The blade hovered midair, clearly never meant to land. His eyes drifted down to Allen's casually placed leg. He glared.

"You cheated!"

Allen nodded.

"Exactly. That is the point. As long as you win, anything goes. Honestly, I was aiming for your crotch."

"Don't you dare!"

Rudeus clutched his groin with both hands, eyes wide.

A blade-hand hovered inches from his face.

Allen flicked his forehead, then leisurely pulled back and gestured for him to sit.

Rudeus immediately grabbed his stool protectively.

"You were about to yank my chair too!"

Allen's expression twitched.

He saw through that one…

"Nope. That's the end of it. Anyway, hope that made it clearer. The Kibatt branch of North God Style is all about winning by any means necessary. It uses whatever you can—taunts, hidden weapons, misdirection. Just now? That would've been considered a feint and a trap. Be careful if you ever face it."

Rudeus nodded and sat down.

The moment he did, Allen flicked a finger at a fallen leaf. It spun, then smacked right onto Rudeus's forehead.

Rudeus glared.

Allen smiled.

"In North God Style, that's a hidden weapon."

But then—the atmosphere shifted.

Both of them felt it.

A sharp, burning gaze.

Allen turned, puzzled—and met Paul's stern eyes.

"Allen," Paul said, voice low. "Even as an example, don't raise your blade against family."

Allen froze. But Paul looked genuinely serious.

"…Understood. Sorry."

Paul nodded, allowing him to continue. Allen, however, changed tack.

"That about wraps up the summary. You've probably already realized I don't know much about Sword God Style, so I'd like to ask a few questions. No need for a full explanation—just answer directly."

Paul's brow twitched. Clearly, he knew he wasn't getting out of this. He squared his shoulders.

"Go ahead."

Short and sharp, as usual.

"First—about Sword God Style. I've heard people say that practitioners swing their swords at full strength every day to train focus and power. Some say that just by doing this, they can master Sword God Style's secret technique—the [Longsword of Light]. Is that actually true?"

Paul looked… conflicted. He mumbled under his breath.

"…That sounds like Ghislaine's training style… hmm…"

Allen smirked and responded via mind-speech.

Exactly. That's one of the ways Ghislaine and Eris train in Sword God Style, Paul.

After a long pause, Paul finally said:

"Different people train in different ways. But yeah—just swinging is definitely effective. I've seen plenty of Sword God fighters do it."

Allen narrowed his eyes.

"Swinging itself?"

"Yeah. Let me explain. Take Water God Style—you're good at it, right? In combat, the order is: sense your environment and your opponent → analyze and plan your response → move to dodge or block → finally, attack. The key is awareness and observation. The swing is just the execution."

Allen raised a brow.

"And Sword God Style?"

Paul looked him dead in the eyes.

"Sword God Style skips all of that. It goes straight to the swing. It's simple. Here—example: I see—"

He didn't finish.

The wind shifted.

The next instant, the tip of Paul's wooden sword was right in front of Rudeus's face. A falling leaf had been sliced in two—the halves slid across Rudeus's stunned expression.

Paul's voice followed.

"—I sever."

Allen stared at the drifting halves of the leaf.

Then slowly looked up at Paul, wide-eyed.

Silence.

Paul, pleased with their reactions, gave a small nod.

"That's Sword God Style's [Longsword of Silence]. I held back most of the force. In real combat, it'd be much faster."

Rudeus's face crumpled.

"Dad, you literally just said not to swing at family…"

Paul froze. His face stiffened, then he muttered solemnly:

"Wooden swords don't count."

Rudeus: "…"

Allen: "…"

Paul looked at Allen's dazed expression and said with total sincerity:

"You're used to Water God Style, so that reaction's normal. The two styles are total opposites."

No, I'm reacting because your double standards are blinding, that's why!

Allen shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts out of his mind. He ran his hand along the hilt of his blade, feeling the cold texture.

Still sounds like 'feel-based nonsense'… but this time, it feels different.

I see. I sever.