[Claude POV]
Whoa, North God style as the finisher? That's nasty...
I watched with keen interest as Paul rendered his son unconscious with practiced precision. The gap between Intermediate and Peak Advanced sword mastery was laid bare before my eyes. As expected of someone who had mastered all three styles—truly impressive.
"As expected of my master!" I exclaimed, clapping loudly as Paul handed the unconscious Rudeus to Ghislaine. "To attack someone using a handle, and from a distance also! That's amazing. This Claude is amazed!"
Paul pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "Having a smart son is harder than I thought..."
"Yeah, you need to be a smart parent to have one," I quipped with a smirk. "Have you ever seen a child create a spell on their own? Aside from me, of course!"
Paul just looked at me and shook his head resignedly. In truth, I'd only developed a beginner's spell—more modification than creation. Nothing like what Rudeus had accomplished with his barrier magic.
Ghislaine glanced between Zenith and Paul, her brow furrowed. "Zenith, is this really yours and Paul's kid?"
"Hey, that's rude," Zenith protested, while Paul laughed awkwardly.
Truthfully, I'd never have believed Paul could father a son as brilliant as Rudeus. Knowing his character...
I stepped forward and discreetly slipped a small envelope into Ghislaine's hand before patting the unconscious Rudeus on the head.
"Leave them to me. Well... take care," I murmured, my mind already racing with possibilities.
A new spell? No—a new category of spell altogether! Barrier magic! This could be applied to my unfinished defensive bangle project. I should implement this into an item, providing another layer of emergency protection for the others.
The deadline would be in approximately six years...
I must have been muttering to myself, because when I looked up, the adults were staring at me with bewildered expressions.
"What? Is it that weird for me to know what Paul would do?" I challenged. "Though I disagree with his method of operation, I will not interfere with other people's decisions. It's not like I'm his father..." I pointed accusingly at Paul.
I felt a sudden shift in my consciousness—the third set of memories asserting themselves with characteristic narcissism, different from the other two personas that comprised my "Miko" identity. The urge to showcase my intellect became almost overwhelming.
"Let's say I already know Rudeus's dependency on Sylphy as she was his first friend and disciple," I continued, the words flowing with practiced confidence. "He must have been feeling lonely somehow, knowing that his first master was a female and she had already left for some time."
I paused to draw breath, noting their puzzled expressions with smug satisfaction.
Look at me, I am smart!
This tendency toward self-aggrandizement was clearly a trait from my third set of memories. Though I couldn't fully understand why I felt compelled to behave this way, it seemed necessary in the moment.
"Well, unlike you 'smart' adults, this kid here is delicate and knows psychology better than you guys... So I expect he and Sylphy will create some misunderstanding..."
I continued my analysis, feeling the third personality's influence strengthening.
"Well, Sylphy had the same trait as Rudy... Sylphy is actually that lonely, you see... I don't really want to have a 'good' relationship with a green-haired kid because you guys know better than me, and the villagers had the same idea as we do. Then, the only one she feels close to is Rudy, so she definitely will want to have Rudy by herself all along."
I laid out my observations plainly before concluding:
"Anyway, since I already know the reasons above, it won't be weird to conclude that Paul will do something to fix his son's mind and call someone from outside. Thus, looking at the stripper there and knowing that someone as queer as her would definitely be an adventurer or a former adventurer will tell me that she's Paul's friend or ex... or both?" Definitely both.
"Which means, Rudeus will be deported somewhere to save his mind from being dependent on Sylphy… Well, I believe there are more ways than this one, but I will not intervene in other people's family situations unless I am asked."
They stared at me wide-eyed, their mouths slightly agape.
What? Is having a nine-year-old with good deductive abilities really that odd?
Well, of course it was. Without my converged memories, I wouldn't have been able to deduce anything close to this. Though I couldn't identify which specific memories were asserting dominance at any given moment, I recognized that several people's consciousnesses had merged into my singular existence.
"Shut your gaping mouths," I said dismissively. "You can deal with the trouble Sylphy causes later… Anyway, I've given my letter to Rudy and marked the brand of the carriage… See you later, folks, and have a safe trip, stripper lady." I walked away with a casual wave, wooden sword in hand as I approached Ghislaine.
My next goal was clear—I needed a sparring partner. I'd been stagnant in my progression for too long, and a fresh perspective on swordplay could be just what I needed to advance. Though challenging a Sword King might seem presumptuous, it represented the fastest way to improve within the limited time before she departed.
As expected, she verified with Paul whether the spar was acceptable before assuming her stance. Meanwhile, I activated the magic circle I'd crafted for my bangle, enabling the barrier magic to function as planned. This would be the perfect opportunity to test its effectiveness against a formidable opponent.
Unsurprisingly, my magical bangle proved woefully inadequate against her sword beam attack. But seriously—wasn't her technique unreasonably powerful? She was wielding a wooden sword, yet produced an Excalibur-like effect of devastating magnitude!
I had intended to evaluate my newly implemented barrier magic, but the disparity in power rendered the test almost meaningless.
Thankfully, Paul intervened before I could be obliterated by her Longsword of Light. Freed from his protective grasp, I stepped back and brushed debris from my clothing with feigned nonchalance.
"Oh wow, that sure is studious of me... thanks for the bout."
"Hey kid, are you trying to die?!" Paul scolded, his face contorted with concern and irritation.
I ignored his reprimand, focusing instead on replicating Ghislaine's technique. By observing her closely, I'd grasped the pathway through which Touki could be converted to mana to generate the beam. However, as someone fundamentally attuned to magical energy, I could bypass several steps by directly manipulating ambient mana.
The process resembled chantless magic, though instead of relying purely on imagination, it required muscular memory to shape the energy. Each conversion of Touki would communicate with the surrounding mana, creating light proportional to the Touki released.
If I could just use mana directly to produce the beam...
"Whoah, I succeed!"
A small beam of light whooshed into existence before me—modest in size but undeniably present. Though rudimentary, I could already envision numerous refinements for future implementation.
[Ghislaine POV]
It took several moments to recover from my astonishment. I had always considered the boy intelligent, but this display exceeded all expectations.
Such judgment—a quality even kings might lack—manifested in a nine-year-old child. What a remarkable spectacle!
Imagine a toddler suddenly creating a new spell...
Wait, Paul's son had already accomplished exactly that.
What peculiarity defined this village's children? Were there more prodigies like these two, or were they simply anomalies in an otherwise ordinary community?
I sighed deeply, my gaze shifting between the unconscious Rudeus and the triumphant Claude.
"You sure have a smart disciple... Paul..."
"Ah... ahhh... He's a quirky one indeed..." Paul responded, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Then, I'll take this one away," I declared, hoisting the unconscious boy onto my shoulder. "See you again, guys."
"Of course, take care," Paul nodded, adding with uncharacteristic softness: "Rudy, too, please."
"Ghislaine, please take care of our Rudy," Zenith implored, while Lilia offered a respectful bow.
[Rudeus POV]
The last thing I remembered was the sudden attack from that damn Paul, and when consciousness returned, a tufted beast-kin tail swayed rhythmically before my eyes.
I tenderly probed my forehead, grateful that he'd used a wooden sword rather than metal. Even so, a pronounced bump throbbed beneath my fingertips.
"Darn Paul, what the hell did you do?" I muttered, wincing slightly.
Upon noticing my wakefulness, I straightened my posture and composed myself. "Pleased to meet you. I am Rudeus Greyrat."
My companion—a striking beast-woman with well-defined musculature—regarded me with mild surprise. "Considering that you are Paul's son, you're polite."
"Aah..." Confusion clouded my thoughts as I studied her.
"I'm Ghislaine," she introduced herself. "I look forward to working with you starting tomorrow."
"Well, thank you... I'm pleased to work with you."
But what exactly had transpired? Glancing out the carriage window, I realized that Buena Village had already disappeared from view. Escape seemed unlikely; Paul wouldn't have orchestrated this departure only to welcome me back.
The realization struck with melancholic clarity: Sylphy... I would miss her terribly.
"Umm, Miss Ghislaine..."
"Just call me Ghislaine. There's no need to add Miss." She tossed two envelopes onto my lap. "Read it."
I broke the seal on the first letter, immediately recognizing Paul's distinctive handwriting.
"To my beloved son, Rudeus. You can let that muscle doll tell you everything. I'd like to say that, but even her brain is filled with muscles, so I guess she won't be able to explain it well."
Reading aloud proved a miscalculation, as Ghislaine's face darkened ominously. "What did he say?" she demanded, her hand drifting toward her sword hilt.
"P-please sit down, Ghislaine," I placated hastily. "That's just a joke."
"I see." She settled back, though suspicion lingered in her gaze.
Returning to the letter, I continued silently:
Let's get to the point. I found you a job. You'll be working as a tutor for a 9-year-old lady living in Roa.
Was this connected to my earlier request? If so, why knock me unconscious?
That person there is the bodyguard and swordsmanship teacher of the household. She said that she'd like to learn something from you in return for you teaching her swords. Try not to laugh at her and say, "Even your brain is made of muscles."
"What are you talking about?" I muttered reflexively.
Ghislaine, misinterpreting my comment, unsheathed her sword with alarming speed. "What did you say?" she growled.
"N-nothing! Just reading to myself!" I hurriedly clarified before returning to the letter:
But she is a Sword King. Nobody could be fitter than her as a swordsmanship teacher. I guarantee her skill. Your father hasn't even won against her once, except in bed.
Stop writing useless things, you moron!
Ghislaine snorted with a "Fu," apparently having caught a glimpse of the text over my shoulder.
That guy really was popular with women...
From now on until you turn 12, which is 5 years, you'll be teaching reading, writing, arithmetic, and simple magic in that household. You're not allowed to write a letter or go home during that time. Because I felt like you were dependent on Sylphy too much, I've decided that it's not good for either of you.
You've done it now, Paul...
By working, earning money, and living an independent life, I look forward to you becoming a more wonderful person. From your great father Paul, who's full of intelligence.
What intelligence do you have? I sighed internally.
"Paul loves you, huh," Ghislaine observed, her tone surprisingly gentle.
I could only shrug in response before continuing to the postscript:
PS, I don't care about the lady, but that muscle doll is mine, so keep your hands away from her.
"Hmm, let's send that letter back to Zenith," Ghislaine suggested, her eye twitching slightly.
"Understood," I agreed readily.
Setting aside Paul's letter, I reached for the second envelope. "By the way, who's this from?"
"It's from your friend, Claude."
Claude? Why would he send me anything? Curiosity piqued, I broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
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