Chapter 9: I want to be close to Roxy

As Roxy watched in wide-eyed astonishment, all three children, much to her surprise, managed to conjure their own water ball spells. The air crackled with a sudden tension as Roxy fell silent, her brow furrowed in deep contemplation. A sense of defeat washed over her, reflected in the helpless drop of her shoulders. But this quickly morphed into a wry smile as she grappled with the reality before her. It seemed all three members of this peculiar family were indeed geniuses.

"Intermediate magic," Roxy finally asked, her voice tentative. "Can any of you attempt that?"

This time, Roya took charge, his characteristic coolness momentarily replaced by a hint of amusement. "The books we've found only describe intermediate spells," he explained. "There's nothing beyond that in our current collection."

Relief, for some inexplicable reason, flooded Roxy's features. She took a deep, calming breath before addressing them in a patronizing tone, "Well, while conjuring intermediate magic at your age isn't unheard of, it's certainly not something to boast about, especially you, Roya. Don't let it inflate your ego."

Despite her attempt at composure, it was evident that Roxy was secretly impressed. She then launched into a detailed explanation of the necessary precautions for advanced magic. Her voice, a testament to her exceptional teaching skills, flowed smoothly, making even complex concepts easy to grasp.

By noon, Sylphy returned home after a quick lunch at Paul's. Roya and Rudeus, however, found themselves under their father's watchful eye, their afternoon dedicated to the art of swordsmanship.

"A man must carry a sword within his heart, ever ready to defend those he cherishes," Paul's booming voice declared, though Roya, with his limited memory, could only recall a shortened version: "A sword in his heart."

Formal training commenced in the afternoon. The focus was purely on the fundamentals: proper sword swings, stances, and footwork. This involved drills against wooden dummies in the courtyard, perfecting stances and attack patterns, as well as sparring with Paul to hone their agility and balance. It was a meticulous process, building a strong foundation upon which future skills could be layered.

In this world, the sword reigned supreme. While axes and hammers found some use, they were far from mainstream. Spears, unfortunately, were ostracized due to their association with the dreaded Superd Tribe, notorious for their trident-wielding warriors. Spears were thus deemed "devil's weapons," a common misconception fueled by tales of monstrous demons wielding similar weapons in their indiscriminate rampages.

Perhaps due to this demonization, swordsmanship in this world had reached a far higher level than anything Roya and Rudeus had ever witnessed. Here, a master swordsman could cleave rocks with a single stroke or unleash a devastating wave of sword energy to decimate distant foes. It was a world where the sword truly embodied power and mastery.

As it turned out, Paul wasn't just boasting. The man could truly cleave a rock in two with a single, powerful swing of his sword. Determined to unravel the secret behind this feat, Roya showered his father with praise and flattery, hoping to entice him into a demonstration. Witnessing his son's joyous reception of his magical prowess should have put Paul in high spirits.

However, despite repeated viewings of Paul's impressive display, the underlying principle remained elusive to Roya. When he pressed his father for an explanation, all he received was a bewildered, "It's just a feeling, you know? Like, hmm, step forward, then swoosh, slash down!"

Paul, while undeniably a master swordsman, left much to be desired in the teaching department. Fortunately, Roya possessed a different learning method that yielded some progress. With each swing of his sword, an inexplicable intuition blossomed within him, guiding him towards the most efficient attack patterns, the most secure withdrawals, and the most advantageous ways to swing the blade. It was almost akin to splitting a line segment perfectly in two, with Roya's intuition zeroing in on the ideal point with uncanny precision.

As the number of swings increased, so did the effectiveness of his strikes. Each blow seemed to land with pinpoint accuracy, targeting his opponent's weak points with almost instinctive awareness. This newfound intuition felt ingrained within him, a product of countless repetitions.

Puzzled by this phenomenon, Roya voiced his observation to Paul. "Father," he began, "I can't explain it, but I have this feeling, this intuition that guides my sword movements."

An uncharacteristic silence descended upon Paul. His eyes, glistening with a well of unshed tears, met Roya's. "Your aptitude for swordsmanship," he finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion, "is truly extraordinary."

Thankfully, Rudeus, while talented, wasn't quite on Roya's phenomenal level. This revelation brought a wave of relief washing over Paul. After all, having a son who outshone him to such a degree could be a tad… embarrassing for any father.

The world of swordsmanship in this place was surprisingly diverse. Three distinct styles, each with its own philosophy and strengths, dominated the scene.

First came the Sword God Style, an aggressive school that championed preemptive strikes and lightning-fast attacks. Its core belief was that the best defense was a swift offense. If an initial strike failed to incapacitate the opponent, the Sword God Style advocated for hit-and-run tactics until victory was secured. This approach bore a resemblance to the real-world Satsuki-ryu style.

Standing in stark contrast was the Water God Style, a school that prioritized defense above all else. Parrying and well-timed counterattacks formed the backbone of this style. Masters of the Water God Style rarely initiated attacks, but their defensive prowess was legendary, allowing them to deflect a barrage of strikes, including magical attacks and projectiles. This style was a natural fit for court knights and nobles who valued unwavering defense.

Finally, there was the Northern God Style, which diverged significantly from the other two. This school resembled military tactics more than traditional swordsmanship. There were no set moves; instead, practitioners adapted their strategies on the fly based on the situation at hand. Paul referred to this as improvisation, but in reality, the Northern God Style often relied on cunning and well-placed tricks to secure victory. However, when mastered, the Northern God Style proved surprisingly effective. This adaptability made it ideal for those with physical limitations or injuries, allowing them to continue fighting despite their disadvantages. For this reason, the Northern God Style enjoyed immense popularity among mercenaries and adventurers.

In essence, each of these three styles offered unique advantages and suited specific situations. Paul, a formidable swordsman with undeniable talent, had mastered all three: the defensive Water God Style, the adaptable Northern God Style, and the aggressive Sword God Style. His mastery placed him firmly within the ranks of superior swordsmen – a title that shouldn't be taken lightly. While the pinnacle of swordsmanship belonged to the legendary Sword King and Sword God, superior swordsmen like Paul possessed formidable skills honed through years of relentless practice.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the training grounds, Roya and Rudeus finally finished their sword practice. The day had been eventful, marking not only Roxy's arrival but also the culmination of a process – the gathering of the power of time and space.

A message materialized before them in glowing text:

[Power of Time and Space: 100/100]

[Currently, you can capture a one-star miniature world. Do you want to capture it?]

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As evening settled, Paul and Zenith emerged from the kitchen, their faces flushed with pride as they presented a magnificent feast. A roast chicken, its golden skin glistening under the warm glow of the lamplight, sat proudly at the center of the table. Crispy bread, steaming bowls of soup crafted from unfamiliar vegetables, and a dazzling array of side dishes filled the room with an enticing aroma that promised warmth and satisfaction.

"Smells so good~," Roxy murmured, her eyes gleaming with delight as they swept across the bounty before her. This, she thought, might just be the finest meal she'd had in a year.

Without further ado, they dug in. Roya savored the chicken, its tender meat melting on his tongue, the rich flavor exploding with each juicy bite. It was surprisingly good, a testament to Zenith's culinary skills.

Suddenly, a shadow of concern crossed Paul's face. "Speaking of which," he interjected, a frown creasing his brow, "it seems we might be short on sleeping quarters." 

Yeah, with Roya and Rudeus each occupying their own rooms, their humble abode offered limited space for an unexpected guest.

Roya's eyes flickered with an idea. He subtly nudged Rudeus under the table, a silent message passing between the brothers. Rudeus, catching on, blinked in response, momentarily halting his meal to exchange a knowing glance with Roya.