The training ground was utterly silent.

Despite most of Class One gathering in this wooden-floored hall, everyone seemed to have forgotten to even breathe, forming a distant circle around me and Oujin.

The tip of the wooden sword Oujin held with both hands was aimed squarely at my centerline.

The tip of my wooden sword, held with both hands, was pointed diagonally behind me.

Finally. At last, I was able to cross swords with Oujin. Of course, it wasn't real swords, but considering we were planning to exchange blows freely, wooden swords were more suitable.

We had already crossed blades twenty times. Yet, neither blade had touched the other’s body.

A steady, unwavering centerline. Just that alone made my skin crawl.

“……”

“……”

The sweat trailing down my cheek dripped onto the wooden floor with a faint sound.

In that brief moment my attention was drawn away, Oujin kicked off the ground.

Impressive. He didn't miss even the slightest opening. Could he truly not be a fully licensed master?

However—

I deflected his sharp strike downward while retreating with my wooden sword.

“～～”

“――”

The opening had been deliberate. To lure him in.

Landing at the same time, I kicked off the ground and swung my wooden sword at his exposed torso.

“Ohh!”

Yet, right as my strike was about to land, he spun his body along the movement of my wooden blade, brushing off my side slash with nothing more than a scrape on his Eastern-style uniform.

“Ngh……！”

This was the same body movement that had deflected the homunculus’ fist.

Right after missing, Oujin used his aerial rotation to swing his blade, and I, from the ground, forcefully swung upward. Our blades clashed together.

“Oooooh!”

“Tsa!”

A sharp kon sound echoed as the wooden swords struck.

The impact sent beads of sweat flying horizontally from both of us.

But this was my mistake. Naturally, it was the weaker me who was repelled. Moreover, Oujin used the rotational force of his evasion, while I had recklessly swung upward.

The instant my sword was easily knocked away, Oujin was already stepping in with a quiet gliding motion like the wind.

The tip of his wooden sword closed in on my chest.

“～～Nyaa”

I barely twisted my body to dodge... but the redirected blade lightly tapped my chest as I leaned back awkwardly.

“Ugh……”

I fell back onto my rear.

“…………Ngh…… I yield……”

Oujin smoothly spun his wooden sword and returned it to his waist as if it had a sheath, then took a step back and bowed to me.

Such elegant movements. Are all Eastern swordsmen like this? It's a stark contrast to our roughness. Different even from knights. It looked less like boasting and more like showing respect to the opponent.

I stared up at the ceiling and lamented.

“Damn, pathetic. So this body still can't win after all.”

So frustrating...! Losing to a kid like this...! I feel like crying...!

“What are you talking about? For a ten-year-old, that's astonishingly phenomenal.”

Oujin grabbed my hand and helped me up.

He gave me a somewhat bitter smile.

“Frankly, I'm the one who would rather be spared. You react to most of my honed techniques on first sight and respond accurately. If Eremia had a body equal to or better than mine at the same age, I doubt I could ever win.”

I couldn't deny it.

Except for the unknown elements of Eastern swordsmanship, my pure skill and experience probably surpassed his. Even so, I lost my stance during our exchange because of the difference in muscle strength and weight.

If I kept doing the same things I did back when I was Blythe, I'd get nowhere.

To be honest, even now, if I only aimed to win, there were ways to do it.

I could just wield a wooden sword in each hand. Blythe's memories included knowledge of dual wielding. I'd be able to unleash attacks that far outmatched Oujin's rotational power.

But that would be meaningless. In real combat, I couldn't replicate dual wielding with my current body.

Wooden swords, of course, are much lighter than real ones. I could swing one in each hand.

But if I tried it with real swords, I'd be limited to short blades like a wakizashi or smaller because of my muscle strength. Anything longer would be too heavy to swing one-handed, or even if swung, it wouldn't cut properly.

Truly a painful dilemma.

Of course, if I lured him out of the dojo and into a forest or grove, other methods would be available. But then I'd lose against Void. And in the dark, Riona would dominate.

No matter the opponent, no matter the location, no matter the weapon, one must always win. That's what being a Sword Saint means.

It's a long way. The end of swordsmanship is nowhere in sight. But that's exactly what makes it fascinating.

“Ah, seriously. My body's growth can't keep up at all.”

“Don't rush, Eremia. You're already plenty strong.”

I scratched my head vigorously.

At that moment, applause erupted.

Ilga spoke up, looking excited.

“That's right! Amazing, Eremia! Just being able to exchange blows with Ryoka is incredible! I can hardly even cross blades with him!”

“As expected from the ten-year-old who cut down a homunculus. I can't let myself lose either. ――Hey, Ilga, you're up. I'm going to wipe that spoiled noble brat face of yours today!”

Seneca looked up at Ilga provocatively.

“Hoh, very well then. But please don't cry when you lose like last time. If a woman, even a commoner, cries because of me, the Freiges family's honor would suffer.”

“Keep yapping. If you hold back because I'm a woman, I'll kill you.”

Seneca grabbed Ilga, who was standing next to her, by the arm and dragged him to an open space in the training ground.

Recently, it was common to see Seneca using Ilga as a training partner. She must really want to beat him down. I get it, I really do. Ilga has a very punchable face.

In swordsmanship alone, Ilga, who used knightly techniques, was still superior. However, in battlefield command, like strategic planning and decision-making, Seneca was starting to show her talent. If only they got along better, they'd make an amusing pair.