Mushoku Tensei: Life and Strife.

Straight cut, stabbing, countering, Zwerchcopter, and even doing something as ridiculous as falling down to strike upwards… Damn it. Nothing is working on him. How is that old man dodging everything? I’m even pulling out telekinesis to move faster than what a child’s body is capable of, and he hasn’t even fallen for a single trap I set for him. He’s even implementing it into his strikes. Damn it all, Paul.

“What’s wrong, Laurel? Too tired to keep up with your old man?”

Damn it. I swear on my life that I will wipe that smirk off your face, Paul. I glared at him. Truth be told, I was way too tired to even be cursing at him. I’m doing my best not to start panting like a dog. Hell, right now I’m just walking over baiting for an attack in hopes of using a counter to smack him. I don’t have any ridiculous stamina to handle him anymore. I glanced to the side.

There, my younger siblings were cheering me on. And in front was Paul’s arrogant smirk. Damn it. Just staring at his face is causing me to lose my composure. Seriously Paul, just how the hell did you live your life to have such a punch-able face? Wait. Does that mean my face looks like that when I grow up? I sighed. Whatever the case, that sudden thought luckily calmed me down. I need to be calm now more than ever. When it comes to attacking, speed is better. But in terms of countering, patience is a necessity.

I slowly walked over, controlling my breathing as I held the blade on one hand. Slow, methodical steps towards Paul. I was going for a counter. I think Paul knows that too, but he wasn’t moving. At times like this, I wonder if I suddenly sped up at this distance, would I hit him? While it was a tempting idea, I wasn’t going to do it.

While I don’t really know the techniques of the three schools due to Paul’s own lackings, I do know how to use a sword. Judgement-wise, I don’t have the stamina. So, I’m risking it for my most used sword style.

La Verdadera Destreza. A Spanish rapier sword style. If it had to be categorized, then it was similar to the Water God Style. To explain, it was to walk in a circular footwork array to disarm the enemy without getting hit yourself. Disarm, not kill. It emphasizes that the greatest mastery is to disarm the opponent without killing. I learned it in my previous life. Why, you ask? Because its name was translated into “The True Art." Yup. All was for the sake of romanticism. I’m hopeless, I know.

At the moment my wooden blade touched his, I feinted a strike. Paul responded by swinging from upper left to lower right. Gotcha. I suddenly closed in while sliding to the right, avoiding the attack entirely. From there, I pushed my arm out, trying to hit Paul in the arm. Suddenly his swinging arm stopped swinging. It happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that my brain short-circuited. And with the step to his left, Paul slid the same way and turned opposite of my direction; his blade twirled on mine and sent my blade flying.

“Ha, you’re going to have to do better than that, Laurel.”

“How?”

I asked with a brain-dead expression. He was in mid-swing. Paul shouldn’t have been able to switch like that. But then I realized on my own. It wasn’t because of any supernatural work. Nor was it a skill issue. No. Paul simply was stronger.

Physically, Paul was an adult, and I was a child. So, he wasn’t swinging his sword in the first place. He couldn’t. So, he was casually waving the sword when I suddenly did that stunt at him. Then using his unnatural super talents, Paul imitated my years of dedicated technique after witnessing it once and returned it to me.

Damn it. I glared at him. This is why I hate geniuses. I swear, they looked at things once, and they were able to imitate them as if effort didn't matter.

“What’s the matter, Laurel? Out of stamina?”

Paul smirked. Tch. Just you wait, old man. One day. One day, I will be able to perfectly implement magic into swordplay, and I will surpass you, old man. I pouted, unable to give out some kind of witty response as I stared at that annoying face of his. One day, the sphere footwork of La Verdadera Destreza will take over the world…

Then again, thinking back, I also misjudged the distance. Paul’s hand was longer, obtaining a length advantage. Perhaps by sliding backwards, he was showing consideration in not striking my face directly. Still hate him though. But to be honest…

“Hey, old man.”

“What is it, Laurel?”

“Fight me for real this time.”

I admired him. I mean, sure, his personality was trash, but still, he was a good parent; at least he tried to be a good parent. Looking at him clumsily taking care of the kids, I often thought to myself about what I was doing at his age. And the only thing I could come up with was running deadlines. Over, and over, and over again. Compared to a man who could only sit in front of a screen studying, Paul was more of an ideal life.

He knew what he wanted; he fought for what he wanted, starting a cool adventure with his own gang of delinquents, reaching S-rank, and getting married while leaving five children to his legacy. Five. Not one, not two, but five… It makes me feel like I had wasted my balls.

“… Did I do something wrong?”

Paul looked at me confusedly. I mean, considering the sudden proposal, it was natural for him to be surprised.

“No… It’s just…”

Curiosity. Simple, plain curiosity. Where I am now, how much could I achieve… At first, I was running towards crazy experiments, trying to up my skill sets so that I could travel in the future. But truth be told, I don’t know where I am. If I wanted to just have enough, then I already am enough.

But this wasn’t enough. These medieval lands far from the industrial pollution, the whispers of Paul’s adventures during his time, and the magical things… All of it was gnawing at me. Screaming at me. As if nothing could be satiated with this feeling. It’s like… it’s like a call.

As of now, I’m being patient, but the moment I grow strong enough, I’ll start roaming like crazy to cause trouble. Actually, screw that. In this life, I’ll be sure to get married to a beautiful—no, scratch that, let’s go build a harem while we’re at it.

I'm going to be a living piece of trash and use my balls as they should be. What is a man without using his balls? So I need to know, am I capable of roaming the world without dying? Or at least, not get hounded to death by women. No, wait, that’s besides the point. The point is…

“I want to know where I am at.”

I want to know how strong I am now, how much I need, and how much more I can achieve. So, I need a fight. A real fight. One where I had no advantage. A dogfight. And Paul was an advanced swordsman of all three styles, with a list of dogfights against unknown beasts under his belt. Who else would be better to teach me as I am now?

“Didn’t you fight with Rudeus from time to time?”

Paul asked. And to answer him, I said.

“… Rudeus wasn’t enough.”

Rudeus was a Saint-class mage, true. But that was it. He lacked speed; he lacked combat experience, but more importantly, he lacked aggression. The movements without hesitation, as if killing in itself were natural, and the feeling that you would die at a single misstep. Only when constantly being on the edge of the blade will I be able to hone good instincts that I had lost. And those instincts would be the foundation for my safety.

“Well shit. Aren’t you arrogant~"

Paul said with a grin on his face. He was smiling, but my instincts suddenly screamed at me to raise my blade. And so, our battle began.

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