Erza froze too. She looked from the longsword in her hand to the katana she'd just batted aside. Her chest heaved with quick breaths; fatigue, sweat, and the incredulous thrill of success mingled across her face.
In that instant just now, she had indeed felt a faint but unmistakable warm current flow through her body, strengthening the link between her and the weapon.
For that moment, the cold iron stopped being just a tool—it felt alive, answering her will, becoming an extension of her arm.
"I… did it?!"
Grandpa Rob came over with a broad smile and patted her shoulder. "Well done, Erza-chan! Looks like pressure really is the key to unlocking potential. Next, you need to learn how to deliberately sense and control that power inside you—that's mana…"
As he spoke, he turned to Shane. "Since you can use magic, take Erza's wrist and guide her with your mana. Help her 'see' the path that power takes inside her."
Shane's heart skipped. Him, guide her?
He barely knew magic at all; the pitiful trickle he had was E-rank at best—not even half-baked.
But seeing the trust and expectation in Erza's eyes, he swallowed and stepped up.
"Full disclosure—I'm not great at magic…" he said, then reached out and, a bit hesitant, took Erza's bare wrist.
Erza and Rob traded a look, expressions turning… complicated.
You "can't" do magic? Then what were those solo barrage-breaking arrows supposed to be?
Her wrist was slim but not delicate—there was steely strength under the skin.
At the touch, both of them started. Erza felt a peculiar warmth at Shane's fingertips—similar to the current that had just flowed through her, yet distinct.
This warmth from outside was steadier, like a fine guiding thread. It slipped into her arm and spread slowly, as if pointing out the way.
Instinctively she held her breath; her cheeks warmed, but all her attention locked onto the "lit" sensation within.
"So… that's how mana flows."
Shane, for his part, was winging it—pure instinct.
He carefully teased the tiny bit of mana he had, nudging it through the point of contact to trickle into Erza. He didn't dare do more—just focused on keeping that warm thread steady.
Meanwhile, he was silently griping: "This is way too specialized—I barely get it myself…"
Rob's voice came at just the right time. "Settle your mind, Erza. Feel the mana—don't resist it. With your will, push it, gather it where you want it to go—your hand, your sword, for example."
Erza obeyed, closing her eyes. Her long lashes trembled as she sank inward.
Time slid by; only the surf hissed against the shore.
Millianna, having crouched too long, stared thoughtfully at the sand in front of her.
Suddenly, Shane felt a faint "yearning" from the conjured longsword—and from the katana in his hand.
As if something was calling to them, they wanted to slip his control and fly to Erza.
He understood at once.
He didn't stop it—he let go of the longsword's permissions entirely, and with another thought, unwound the gray cloth. Three more identical longswords shimmered into being at his side.
Almost at the same moment, Erza's eyes opened—scarlet irises flashing as if a gleam ran through them.
On a burst of insight, she lifted one hand and beckoned into the air.
Vmm—!
All four longswords let out a soft hum, then, as if tugged by invisible threads, shot up and hovered around her—light and precise.
Their tips dipped slightly, like the spears of loyal guards saluting their queen.
"Holy—sword control?"
Shane blurted it out, staring as the blades circled her like living things.
The cool factor was off the charts—what kid back home hadn't dreamed of doing this?
Then Erza's voice rang out, clear and alight with glee. "Haha! Shane—again!"
Before the words finished, she leapt in, sword in hand, three flying blades shadowing her every move. She advanced like a dancer stepping into battle—grace shot through with killing intent.
This time, the fight couldn't have been more different from Shane's earlier steamroll.
Every cut she made glimmered with a faint halo of mana; her power, speed, and resilience all jumped. The shocks numbed Shane's wrist; each strike took everything he had to block.
And those three hovering blades were wicked—moving to her will, at times circling like rings, at times scattering like stars, each thrust and guard meshing perfectly with her own motion.
Shane was quietly stunned. The girl's combat instinct was terrifying.
If not for his weapon intuition letting him spot tiny openings in the nick of time—and the master-level sword sense backing it—he'd already have lost.
Even so, under that fierce, intricate pressure he was forced onto the back foot, retreating again and again.
For a while—without releasing his True Name—he was outright losing.
"Mm…"
Being stat-checked by a newbie who'd had her magic for less than half an hour pricked a childish stubborn streak.
But popping True Name here would be bullying.
So—he suddenly sped up, batted her main sword wide—
—and in that opening, thrust his left hand forward, fingers splaying.
"Dismiss."
In an instant, the three silver fish of flying swords—and Erza's main blade—winked into four wisps of light and vanished like soap bubbles.
At the crest of her assault, Erza felt her hand go light, and the protective ring around her dissolved. Her attack halted mid-flow.
She stumbled a step, blinking hard. "Eh?"
Her face held baffled interruption—and a flicker of lingering battle-heat.
To Shane, she finally looked a bit like a normal girl—bright and sweet—rather than a Valkyrie who only cared how good fighting felt.
He didn't plan to go easy.
While she was dazed, he surged in, dropped low into her guard, snatched her wrist, and turned—
A clean, crisp shoulder throw.
The world flipped; Erza felt a deft force lift and toss her. She traced a short arc and thumped into the sand.
Silence beat once.
She shot upright from the little crater, shaking her head hard as grains rained from her hair. She glared at Shane—standing there, leisurely dusting off his hands—and puffed out her cheeks.
"Shane! You cheated!"
Unfazed, he replied as if it were only fair. "Cheated? Those weapons were made by my ability. Canceling them is perfectly reasonable."
He paused, then added, "In a fight, you use every lever—retracting borrowed power is a tactic, too."
"But…" Erza faltered. It sounded… a little reasonable, and yet something felt off.
With all her power and nowhere to put it, she could only glare, fuming.
Seeing the two of them bristling like stubborn kids, Grandpa Rob stepped in with a chuckle. "All right, you two. That's enough sparring—you've achieved what you needed."
He looked to Erza, eyes warm. "How do you feel now, Erza-chan? Can you sense your mana steadily?"
Her focus snapped back. She closed her eyes briefly, then nodded hard.
"Yeah! Crystal clear!"
Then her mouth quirked. She shot Shane a slightly cheeky, challenging look. "And I think… I've got way more mana than you, Shane!"
Shane's face stayed cool and unbothered, returning a calm winner's stare.
She still couldn't beat him. Big fists are what count; as for mana—eh… he couldn't care less.
"Good, good. From here, it's practice and familiarity…" Rob stroked his beard and began a more detailed lesson on the basics of mana control.
Not far away, in a corner no one was watching—
Millianna stared at the sandcastle she'd spent ages building. Erza's landing had knocked half of it down. Her mouth trembled, eyes filling fast with tears.
"My sandcastle!!!"
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 70 Chapters Ahead of Others!