A blade flash.
Cutting through the wind.
Ripples stirred in the air.
Then vanished within crimson eyes.
A blade.
Silent.
But emotions had shape.
The young lady suddenly grew excited, eyes widening as she looked up at Allen with burning intensity.
"I could see the swing of that one… mm… the feeling! Yes, I could see the feeling!"
Rudy was still entranced by the sight—Allen's unique Muon no Tachi (Silent Blade), never tiring of watching it, his heart flooding with admiration.
Indeed, Allen's Silent Blade was completely different from Paul's.
The latter's was fierce, swift, dazzling with chaotic flurries and relentless attacks.
One couldn't deny Paul's swordsmanship talent—flamboyant and flashy.
But Allen's Silent Blade was the opposite of his Sword God Style master.
Not fierce. No torrential flurry of attacks like a storm of falling rain.
It was marked by clean elegance.
Like a falling leaf.
Or a gentle spring breeze.
A breeze that passes—
And heads fall.
That was Allen's Silent Blade.
And yet—
The young lady's surreal, hard-to-understand exclamation of "I could see the feeling!" yanked Rudy out of his rainbow-hued admiration.
What kind of phrasing was that?
Was this the despairing shout of an illiterate soul lost in rapture?
Rudy wearily rubbed his face.
Then looked toward Allen.
But contrary to his expectations of seeing Allen with a doting smile toward Eris…
Allen's expression looked… stiff, his gaze dazedly fixed on his sword.
Was it a hallucination?
Rudy thought he saw a flicker of confusion on Allen's face.
Before he could ponder further, Ghislaine spoke up as expected, her voice filled with admiration.
She always turned razor-sharp and eloquent when discussing swordplay, echoing Rudy's own praise but dressed in the form of sword theory.
She truly doted on Allen.
Kind of ridiculous.
They had only known each other for a few days!
"A very refined Silent Blade. Entirely unlike the typical styles at the Holy Land of Swords. Hard to believe Paul taught you this."
"You kept only the core 'power' of the swing, abandoned excessive aura layering, and instead concentrated all saved energy into 'speed'. The swing was light—yet fast."
"And you suppressed your killing intent to the extreme."
"A very personal variation of the Silent Blade. It barely resembles the original technique. In fact, it aligns closely with your Water God Style."
"Impressive."
After that stream of praise without even a pause for breath, Ghislaine stopped for a beat and glanced at Allen, who still stared silently at his sword. There was a flicker of confusion in her eyes too.
She continued, "From what I see, with continued practice, there's still room for growth."
That snapped Rudy out of his speculation about Allen's expression. He sighed discreetly.
Well, seems like Eris's goal of skipping theory class today was a done deal.
It felt like Allen was crawling all over his spine.
Unbearable!
"You guys… fine. Just… great."
Eris glanced at Rudy with irritation, huffed, then grabbed the hands of both men and cheerfully dragged them to an open space nearby.
One on each side.
She then pushed them apart—
Precisely five meters.
Perfect spacing.
Then she ran ten meters back.
Turned.
The setting sun's glow filtered through her hair—normally a fiery red, now under sunset, it glowed like dark wine.
Wine spilled into the air.
Her face raised high, prideful and eager.
Her shoes clicked on the cobblestone ground.
Eyes sparkling as she looked at Allen.
"Silent Blade! I wanna see more!"
She raised a hand straight forward and slashed through the air in front of her.
"Go, Allen! Ghislaine!"
Ghislaine sighed slightly, shooting a glance at Allen.
He was still gripping his sword, looking down, lost in thought.
She frowned slightly. Narrowed her eyes.
"Allen? Are you okay?"
He looked up, expression back to normal.
"...I'm fine. Just thinking. A Silent Blade spar? Or will it be a series of one-on-one exchanges?"
Ghislaine, noticing the slight shift in his tone, raised her brow for the first time all day.
She glanced at Allen's sword.
"No need. Let's do free-form sparring, as long as we both use Silent Blade. If anything dangerous happens, you can resolve it with Water God Style. After all, you've withstood a Saint-level Hikari no Tachi (Sword of Light). The Silent Blade shouldn't be a problem. No need for wooden swords."
"It's late. Let's begin."
"Alright."
Allen inhaled deeply, raised his chipped sword, and slashed through the air.
The wind stirred, blowing through his clothes.
A flapping sound.
"So, I'll strike first?"
Ghislaine nodded.
"Yes."
As the words fell—
Allen squinted, eyeing Ghislaine's neck. Then stepped forward.
Dust rose at his feet, not yet falling—
When his figure vanished from the air!
A sharp blade cry echoed through the field!
Sparks exploded in front of Ghislaine!
Allen's blade slashed at the air just beyond her neck!
Fifteen centimeters!
That had been his target all along!
Why?
Because that was exactly where Ghislaine's blade would appear.
Undeniably.
And so it did.
Otherwise, where did the sparks come from?
Momentum carried their blades into contact, steel scraping steel in a shrieking wail.
At that instant—
Their eyes met.
Ghislaine's gaze was calm as water.
But Allen's held… confusion, as if he couldn't comprehend what just happened.
Ghislaine's eyes flickered. She flicked her blade and pushed Allen back!
Then immediately followed with a counter Silent Blade slash!
Overwhelming, oppressive, matching the style of her Hikari no Tachi.
The blood-red blade tore through the air, suddenly appearing in Allen's contracted pupils.
He hurried to swing back with a Silent Blade, aiming to parry.
But in that electrifying instant—he felt his blade sluggish, like slicing through water.
His pupils shrank to needlepoints.
No good! I can't make it in time!
Kanryū! Nenryū!
He hadn't yet felt Ghislaine's blade strike his neck—but he sensed its edge with crystal clarity.
It was right there! The blade wind brushed his skin!
He twisted his wrist, bringing his sword up to block—
But in that brief lapse of focus, how could he realign so swiftly? So smoothly?
So—
His blade just barely scraped into position.
It caught the edge of her strike path.
But even Kanryū wasn't in the right place!
BANG!
A violent crash!
His blade snapped in two mid-air! Ghislaine withdrew instantly!
But the force of her blade still slammed into Allen.
The shockwave of her blade! The vibrating air!
The impact blasted Allen into the sky.
In that instant—
Before Eris's wide, horrified eyes, two figures met—
Two blade flashes crossed—
And Allen was hurled like a cannonball!
Crashing through the outer gate of the estate.
He hit the ground.
Bounced.
Dirt flew from the cracks. Dust filled the air.
He finally collapsed on the steps beyond the door.
"Allen!!"
Everyone—aside from Ghislaine—cried out his name.
Including two voices that hadn't been there moments ago.
The dust hadn't even fully settled—
And someone was already rushing into it from the mansion.
Within the haze—
Allen sat up slowly, already propping himself up.
His clothes were torn in places. His face scratched.
But he didn't seem to feel any pain.
He just stared blankly downward.
In his gaze—
In his palm—
Was half a broken blade.
Then, a familiar, soft voice reached his ears.
Faint—
Yet close.
"Allen! Allen! Are you okay?!"
A glow of chantless healing magic lit up. His wounds were mending fast under his aura's protection.
But Allen felt… disoriented.
He slowly looked up.
The dust in the air descended, catching sunset rays that filtered through the courtyard, casting specks of light—
Like a shimmering veil.
Landing on a pale-blue dress he hadn't seen before.
Familiar red-brown eyes.
White hair, still fluttering as always.
That single sight brought two images to Allen's mind.
The rift valley sunset, where a fleeting glance met across a crimson sea;
The rainy dawn, cool hands and damp air.
Those moments—
Were just like this one.
Allen blinked.
He understood.
The second reason why he was struck down by Ghislaine's blade—
Was standing right in front of him.
Why had his once-masterful Silent Blade felt so clumsy today?
Simple.
It wasn't that Ghislaine was too strong.
It was that his blade… was slow.
The spring wind blew the dust past him, toward Sylphy's face, over the hem of her red skirt—
It spun—
Then slipped through the side window into a classroom.
Rustling sounds echoed.
Two sheets of paper on a desk fluttered up.
On one, scribbled in ink:
The words Rudy had asked them to write down—ten that came to mind instinctively.
——
"Perseverance" "Protect" "Allen" "Reject" "Imitate" "Stand beside" "Them" "Together" "Rely on" "Me"
——
"Transfer" "Soon" "Rescue" "Choice" "Demon Continent" "Conflict zone" "Mother" "Headache"
"Roxy"
——
The wind turned over the second sheet completely.
Revealing its final word.
"Sylphy"
(End of Chapter)
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