Mushoku Tensei: Sword, Magic Hats, and Romance!

Allen's pupils contracted.

He didn't have time to redirect his blade—Paul's strike was already upon him. In a flash, he thrust the hilt forward, fingers twitching toward a Water God Style counter technique—a ryū ōgi, a secret form—to deflect the incoming attack.

No! That won't help me improve!

Allen forced himself to pull back from the move, and in that instant, Paul's blade slammed into the exposed butt of his sword.

The blow, infused with battle aura, sent Allen flying. He managed to regain control mid-air, bracing his stance before landing, but without Water God Style's precise footwork to redirect the momentum, his boots still gouged a half-meter-long trail through the dirt.

But the moment his footing stabilized—he reversed the force, channeled his aura, and launched himself at Paul like a slingshot.

Clang!

The two blades met with a screech, locked in a tense deadlock just centimeters apart, neither giving ground.

Paul's sword was raised in front of his neck. He watched Allen's eyes dart reflexively toward his lower body, then shouted sharply:

"Your focus was good when you aimed for the neck! But now—where are you looking?!"

Gritting his teeth, Allen broke away, his blade flashing through the air in a faint afterimage as he slashed toward the other side of Paul's neck.

But Paul's sword had already arrived—only centimeters from Allen's throat.

No good—his Sword God Style is faster!

Allen scraped his foot against the ground, twisting his body to dodge beside Paul. His blade slashed through the air toward Paul's side—but Paul's sword again met it, late but precise, parrying with flawless timing and knocking the attack away.

Allen sprang back, trying to close in again, but Paul raised a hand to stop him.

The usual roguish grin was gone. His face was calm, solemn as he looked Allen in the eyes.

"Allen. Steady your breathing. Quiet your mind."

Then he raised a finger, pointing to a spot just in front of his neck.

"Focus your gaze here. Don't think about follow-up moves. Don't calculate. Hold onto the feeling of the slash."

"Then cut. That's it. That's all there is."

Paul narrowed his eyes.

"I'll count to three. On three, you cut. Got it?"

Allen took a deep breath, his breathing quickly settling.

He stared at Paul with full concentration, nodded… then closed his eyes.

And whispered through mind-speech:

…Faster than thought.

Allen opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on the point in front of Paul's neck.

"Ready."

Paul studied his posture, his interest piqued. He licked his lips.

"One."

Allen bent his knees, lowering his stance, hands tightening around his sword.

"Two."

He angled his blade behind him, drawing it back diagonally in preparation. His eyes locked on the spot in front of Paul's neck, no longer wavering.

"S—"

Before Paul could finish the count, the air shifted.

Allen's pupils constricted to pinpoints.

In that moment, the courtyard seemed to dissolve—the shadows of the trees condensed into swirling mist, the falling leaves faded into obscurity, the rustling wind became a whisper in the void. Paul's piercing gaze vanished into the haze.

And then—

The drifting smoke dissolved into stillness and black.

The only light that remained—was the glow at Paul's throat.

A ripple passed through the dark.

Paul's voice trembled faintly, as if echoing from within that silence.

At the same time, Allen heard his own voice.

Distant.

…I see.

But clear—resonant.

I sever!!

The next instant—the world burst back into color.

Zenith and Lilia cried out from the second floor.

Allen blinked. That light in the dark… had it been a dream? A hallucination? It felt like a fleeting illusion—gone in the blink of an eye.

He looked up instinctively, back to the space in front of Paul's neck.

A blade hung there, trembling in the air—so close it felt like it was touching him.

No… not felt.

It was there.

Allen's gaze followed the blade back down—down the edge, down the spine—until it met his own hand, clenched tightly around the hilt.

It wasn't a dream.

He stared in shock at Paul—who beamed back at him with a grin, reached out to flick the tip of Allen's blade, then pulled him into a rough hug and punched him squarely in the chest.

"Good! That's it! That's Sword God Style! Remember this feeling—this is the sensation of a true slash! This is the [Longsword of Silence]!!"

At that moment, a hesitant voice called from the garden gate.

"Um… Rudeus is ready. Allen, shall we go?"

Allen turned toward the voice. Sylphy stood there, blinking up at him, staring intently.

A breeze lifted her now shoulder-length green hair. It had grown since two months ago, soft strands framing her chin.

Her expression was no longer the shy, easily flustered look she'd worn back then. She simply looked at Allen, her reddish-brown eyes calm and curious.

Allen blinked, and suddenly felt a shove at his back. He stumbled forward slightly, caught himself, then turned around.

Paul was massaging his neck, cracking it with a stretch and a smile.

"Go. Be careful—really careful, okay? Don't bring your blade that close again. Rudeus doesn't have aura reinforcement."

Allen turned and nodded.

"Got it! We agreed that once I get within one meter, it counts as my win."

A loud sigh of relief drifted down from above—Zenith, clearly eavesdropping, and not even trying to hide it.

Allen looked up and waved his sword toward her.

"Relax, ma'am! I'll sheath it the moment I'm in range. He won't get hurt. Honestly, I'm the one who should be worried—he might blow me up with a [Fireball]!"

Zenith covered her mouth with a laugh and waved him off.

Allen returned the wave, gave Paul a quick nod and a grin, then turned to walk away with Sylphy.

Once Allen had gone, Paul's smile slowly faded. He lowered the hand at his neck.

A thin red line stretched across his throat, and at its center—a small bead of blood.

That aura quality… it nearly cut through mine. From a nine-year-old… And he already touched the edge of the [Longsword of Silence]…

He looked out toward the distance, where Allen was ruffling Sylphy's hair. She stiffened a little at the touch, but didn't pull away.

Paul's expression warmed again into a genuine smile.

Philip… you really gave birth to a terrifying genius. I wonder when the two of you will finally meet…

When Allen arrived at the usual hilltop training spot, Rudeus was already standing at the bottom of the slope, arms folded, confidence shining in his eyes.

Even with grass nearly reaching his waist.

Allen couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Ready?"

"This time, I've got a surprise for you."

Allen glanced at Sylphy.

"You head up to the hill and watch from there."

Sylphy hesitated for a moment, then turned to Rudeus.

"Um… please be careful, okay? Don't go overboard."

Allen blinked in surprise. That almost sounded like she thought Rudeus had the advantage. His curiosity was piqued.

Once Sylphy had climbed the slope and leaned against a tree, Rudeus and Allen had already placed themselves a hundred meters apart.

She nodded.

Her voice was soft, carried down the hill by the breeze.

"Begin!"