The glint of the blade flashed by.
It cut through the wind, sending ripples through the air.
And was extinguished within a pair of red eyes.
The sword.
Was silent.
But the emotion it stirred had a tangible 'form.'
The young lady immediately grew excited, her eyes widening as she looked up at Alan, her gaze burning.
"That one! I can see the… the feeling of the slash!! Yes, I can see the feeling!!"
Rudeus was still lost in the mesmerizing, uniquely Alan-esque Silent Sword, his mind filled with countless words of praise. Yes, Alan's Silent Sword was completely different from Paul's. The latter's was fierce, swift, and dazzling, a continuous flurry of attacks. It had to be said, Paul was talented in swordsmanship. A flashy talent.
But Alan's Silent Sword was nothing like his Sword God Style master's. It wasn't fierce, nor was it a dense barrage of attacks like falling rain. It possessed a simple 'elegance.'
Like a single falling leaf.
Or a gust of spring wind.
The spring wind blows past.
A head falls to the ground.
That was the characteristic Silent Sword of Alan.
However!
The young lady's description of "seeing the feeling"—a very abstract and baffling phrase—jarred him out of his state of adulation.
Wait, what kind of description is that?
Is this the desperate cry of a hopeless illiterate?
Rudeus rubbed his face helplessly. He then turned to look at Alan, who had just demonstrated the strike. But contrary to what he expected—a doting expression directed at Eris—Alan's face was somewhat stiff. He was just staring blankly at the blade in his hand.
He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but Rudeus thought he saw a hint of confusion in Alan's expression.
Before Rudeus could figure anything out, Ghislaine, standing nearby, reacted exactly as he would have expected. Her tone was, as always, one of appreciation. Her speech, which became 'incredibly intelligent and logical' the moment swordsmanship was discussed, was the theoretical 'form' of Rudeus's own flowery praise. It was clear she was truly fond of Alan.
It was quite absurd.
How many days had they even known each other??
"A very mature Silent Sword. It's completely different from the style of most practitioners in the Holy Land of the Sword. It's hard to imagine that Paul taught you this."
"You've retained only the basic 'power,' forgoing an excess of Touki, and instead condensed all that saved Touki into 'speed.' The blade is incredibly light, yet more than fast enough."
"And you've concealed your killing intent to the greatest extent."
"A very unique Silent Sword. It almost doesn't seem like the Silent Sword at all, but rather something that aligns very closely with your Water God Style."
"Excellent."
After a string of breathless compliments, Ghislaine paused for a moment, glancing at Alan, who was still looking down at his sword, a slightly puzzled look in her eyes.
She continued.
"From the looks of it, as long as you continue to practice, there is still room for improvement."
This lengthy review snapped Rudeus out of his preoccupation with 'what's wrong with Alan's expression.' He let out a very subtle sigh. It seemed Eris's ambition of skipping theory lessons today had been realized. It made him feel like Alan was crawling all over him.
It was infuriating!
"You guys… are… are… really something else…"
Eris shot Rudeus a dissatisfied glance and snorted!
She then grabbed one of them with each hand and excitedly pulled them over to an open space. She planted them on her left and right, then pushed them apart to a distance of exactly five meters.
Perfect.
Then the young lady backed up to a distance of ten meters.
She turned!
The last rays of the setting sun filtered through her hair. Her red hair, which looked like red paint in the bright sun, now glowed a beautiful wine-red in the twilight.
Like red wine spilled in the air.
Her eyes were bright and full of spirit.
Her small leather shoe tapped once on the flagstone floor.
She looked at Alan with great excitement.
"The Silent Sword! I want to see it!"
She stretched out a hand and sliced it through the air in front of her.
"Let's begin! Alan! Ghislaine!"
Ghislaine, who had been unceremoniously arranged by the whirlwind Eris, glanced at her helplessly, then looked at her opponent.
Alan was clutching his sword, his head lowered, lost in thought.
A flash of surprise crossed her eyes, and she squinted.
"Alan? Are you alright?"
Hearing her, he looked up, his expression back to normal.
"…I'm fine, just thinking about some things. A spar with the Silent Sword? Will it be one attack and one defense, like before?"
Ghislaine looked at Alan's face, and her calm expression, which had held all afternoon, finally wavered. For the first time, her eyebrows rose.
She glanced at the sword in Alan's hand.
"No need. A free spar. As long as we both use the Silent Sword. At this level, even if a crisis arises, you can resolve it with the Water God Style. After all, you could completely block a Saint-rank Sword of Light, so the Silent Sword will naturally be no problem. Since there's no risk of injury, we don't need wooden swords."
"It's getting late. Let's begin."
"Alright."
Alan took a deep breath, raised his hand, and swung the nicked blade through the air!
The wind rippled outwards, making his clothes flutter.
"Then… shall I go first?"
Ghislaine nodded.
"Go ahead."
As she spoke, Alan narrowed his eyes, focusing on Ghislaine's neck, and took a step forward.
The dust at his feet swirled up, not yet having settled back to the ground.
His figure had already vanished from sight!
The next moment, the sharp cry of a blade shrieked across the field!
Sparks exploded in front of Ghislaine!
Alan's blade had already struck the air outside her neck!
Fifteen centimeters!
That was the exact spot he had been aiming for!
Why?
Because Ghislaine's sword would also be in that position.
There was no doubt about it.
And that was exactly what was happening now.
Otherwise, how could sparks fly?
Under the force of their momentum, their blades scraped against each other, creating a piercing screech of metal.
In that instant, they locked eyes.
Ghislaine's gaze was as calm as water.
But Alan's eyes were filled with utter confusion, as if he couldn't comprehend the situation.
A glint flashed in Ghislaine's eyes, and she threw Alan back!
She immediately followed up with a Silent Sword strike of her own!
It was powerful, full of pressure, consistent with the style of her Sword of Light!
The blood-red blade tore through the air and, in Alan's shrinking pupils, instantly appeared before him.
Alan quickly threw out a Silent Sword strike of his own, attempting to parry.
But in that split second, he felt the sword in his hand freeze at his wrist, as sluggish as if it were moving through water.
His pupils contracted to pinpoints!
No! The Silent Sword is too slow!
Flow Perception! Thought Flow!
Heimun's sharp edge had not yet reached his neck, but he could already feel its sharpness with perfect clarity!
It was right there! The wind from the blade was caressing his skin!
He twisted his wrist! Sending his blade towards the path of Ghislaine's sword!
However, how could a change of stance in a moment of distraction be so fast? So natural?
Therefore, the blade was only just barely brought up in front of him. He had just managed to get the tip of his sword into the trajectory of Heimun. Even the position of his Flow Perception was wrong!
BANG!!!
A tragic shriek!
The blade was suddenly cut in two in mid-air. Ghislaine instantly retracted her sword!
But the force of her blade had already slammed into Alan's body.
The turbulence from the blade! The vibrating air!
It formed a massive impact force.
It sent Alan's figure flying through the air.
At this moment, in Eris's shocked and horrified eyes, the two figures moved at extreme speed. The moment they made contact, two flashes of their blades crossed.
And Alan's figure was sent flying like a cannonball!
He was thrown towards the mansion's main gate.
He crashed.
Bounced.
Dirt from between the flagstones flew up, and dust from the ground billowed.
He finally came to a stop, slumping against the steps outside the gate.
"ALAN!!"
Everyone except Ghislaine cried out his name.
Including two voices that hadn't been present just a moment ago.
The dust swirled, not yet settled.
But a figure had already rushed out from the mansion and into it.
Within the cloud of dust, Alan was sitting up. His clothes were torn in several places, and his face had some scrapes. Even so, he seemed oblivious to the pain, just staring blankly down.
In his line of sight, in the palm of his hand, was a blade broken in half.
Just then, a familiar, soft voice sounded by his ear.
So distant.
Yet right beside him.
"Alan! Alan! Are you okay?!"
The light of a chantless healing spell shone. Under the protection of his Touki, his wounds were rapidly healing, but Alan felt as if he were in a daze.
He looked up blankly to his side.
The dust was settling in the air. The light of the setting sun shone from the far side of the courtyard, filtering through the dust and scattering specks of 'rosy light.'
It was hazy, like gauze.
It fell upon a moon-white long dress Alan had never seen before.
Familiar reddish-brown eyes.
White hair still dancing and floating.
Just as always.
This sight made Alan involuntarily recall two images.
The evening glow over the canyon, a stunning glance across a sea of blood;
The morning glow through the rain, a cold body temperature in the damp air.
That time, that moment.
Was just like this time, this moment.
Alan blinked.
He understood.
The second reason he had been sent flying by Ghislaine's strike, unable to swing his own blade in time.
Was right in front of him.
And why had his Silent Sword, once at its peak, felt so sluggish when he swung it this afternoon?
It was simple.
It wasn't that Ghislaine was too strong.
It was that his sword had become slower.
The spring wind blew the dust away, swirling in front of him, leaping towards Sylphie's face, and drifting past the hem of a red dress.
It made a little circle.
And slipped through the window of the classroom next to the wall.
With a rustling sound, the corners of two white pieces of paper on a desk were lifted by the breeze.
The words written on them, face down on the desk.
They were from the reading and writing lesson, the ten words Rudeus had asked them to write down subconsciously, the first things that came to mind.
[Resilience] [Protect] [Alan] [Refuse] [Imitate] [Stand] [Their] [Beside] [With] [Me]
[Teleport] [Soon] [Save] [Choose] [Demon Continent] [Conflict Zone] [Mother] [Headache]…
[Roxy]
The spring wind blew.
It flipped the second piece of paper completely over.
Revealing the last word on it.
[Sylphie]
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