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Roxy blinked.
"...So... does he know... magic?"
Rudeus's serious expression relaxed, as if he had found some comfort, and he chuckled.
"Luckily, he's completely clueless about magic... If Allen had talent in magic too, wouldn't he be grabbing you to be his teacher? That would be way too dangerous for me!"
"Ah... I see..."
Roxy sighed in relief, not quite understanding what Rudeus meant by "dangerous." She turned her gaze to the two figures in the yard, a faint smile appearing on her lips.
Rudeus, noticing Roxy's expression, felt something was off but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Meanwhile, Sylphie blinked, sneaking a glance at Roxy before her eyes fluttered and also turned toward Allen.
In the courtyard, Allen and Paul had finished warming up.
The two stood about three meters apart. Unlike his relaxed stance when facing Rudeus earlier, Allen now adopted a serious posture, ready for a duel with Paul, who was also a swordsman.
Allen stood in a firm stance, his legs bent and firmly planted on the ground. He held his sword with both hands, resting the blade on his right shoulder, the back of the blade almost touching his shoulder.
Paul, on the other hand, held his sword casually, looking at Allen with ease.
"Ready? I'm coming at you now."
Allen took a deep breath, his pupils narrowing. The embryonic core of his Dragon Saint Fighting Spirit compressed, surging through his body along with his innate fighting spirit.
He 'sensed' the dust particles floating slowly in the air and smiled.
"Ready. Let's begin."
The moment he finished speaking, Paul's blade was already slicing toward Allen's left shoulder, far from the range of his own blade!
Silent Blade!
In the next instant, the two passed each other.
Paul stumbled, turning his head in surprise.
Allen's feet remained firmly planted on the ground.
He didn't even turn around, only tilting his head to look at Paul over his shoulder. The sword that had been resting on his right shoulder had shifted slightly, the hilt now positioned just above his left shoulder.
"Did he miss?!" Zenith's shocked voice rang out.
Paul's expression turned serious as he casually answered the question everyone was thinking.
"...No, I didn't miss."
He narrowed his eyes, looking at the hilt of Allen's sword above his left shoulder. The feedback from his blade during that split-second clash was still fresh in his mind.
He had indeed struck.
But it had no effect.
Allen's response had been too 'precise.'
He had 'precisely' shifted his stance, 'precisely' placed the hilt above his left shoulder, and 'precisely' deflected Paul's blade.
It was all too precise.
There wasn't a single unnecessary movement.
It was like... a rock in a rushing stream—steady, unshakable, and without any openings.
——
Paul stared at Allen for a while before speaking.
"Not going to turn around?"
Allen continued to look at him over his shoulder, keeping his sword resting on his right shoulder.
"No need. This stance is enough to handle attacks from any angle. Of course, that's assuming I can 'sense' them. I just happened to sense your Silent Blade earlier. Lucky me."
Paul chuckled.
"A combination of ultimate perception and the Water God Style's secret technique, huh... What if I were faster? Could I strike you before you sensed my attack?"
Allen smiled, narrowing his eyes.
"You're welcome to try, old man."
Paul let out a laugh that dissipated in the wind. In the next instant, he was already at Allen's side.
His sword was poised less than half a meter from Allen's forehead.
But Allen's hand moved in sync with Paul's body, his blade now positioned in front of his own forehead.
For a brief moment, Paul and Allen's eyes met.
Clang!
Paul's blade was deflected to the side, once again 'precisely' redirected by Allen's Water God Style technique.
But Paul's lips curled into a smile.
He released his grip on the sword, letting it fly past Allen's face. At the same time, his leg shot out in a whip-like kick aimed at Allen's chest!
A feint!
Paul's earlier question about speed had been a ruse to make Allen think he would use a Sword God Style slash.
From the very beginning, Paul had planned to abandon his sword, using the seemingly fierce thrust as a distraction and placing all his bets on the kick!
But even so, Paul's plan fell short.
Allen shifted his blade once more, the hilt grazing Paul's foot at the last moment, using the Water God Style to redirect the force of the kick and send it past his side.
In that instant, a glint flashed in Paul's eyes. His other foot, still planted on the ground, pushed off with force. Using the momentum from the kick and the deflection, he accelerated, grabbing the sword that had flown past Allen and planting his kicking foot firmly on the ground. A new surge of power traveled from the ground to his waist as he twisted his body, slashing toward Allen's back!
There was yet another follow-up to the kick!
Allen still hadn't turned around!
Paul's blade was about to strike Allen's back, and a hint of triumph flashed in his eyes.
'This Silent Blade is the fastest I can manage. He hasn't even turned around... I've won... How?!!'
At that moment, Allen's shoulder dropped.
A thin, ghostly blade extended from his shoulder, accurately meeting Paul's sword.
A faint metallic screech echoed in the air, sending ripples through the space between them.
Clang!
The sword was deflected, flying past Paul's ear and embedding itself into a nearby tree with a sharp hum.
Zenith and the others turned their heads to look at the sword stuck in the tree, then back at Allen and Paul, their faces filled with confusion.
To their untrained eyes, without the enhancement of fighting spirit, the two had moved too quickly. It looked like they had simply closed the distance, exchanged a few flashes of steel, and then Paul's sword had flown off and stuck itself into the tree.
It looked like they were just messing around.
Paul blinked in disbelief, looking at his sword stuck in the tree, then at Allen, who was now standing straight and looking at him with a teasing glint in his eye.
Allen waved a hand in front of Paul's dazed face and joked,
"You really like using the North God Style, huh, old man..."
Paul snapped out of his stupor, awkwardly looking at his hand, still unable to accept how Allen had disarmed him so effortlessly despite his tricks.
But his mouth was still defiant.
"Uh... It's called strategy. Anyway, that technique of yours is impressive... It's like an impenetrable defense. Unless your opponent has overwhelming strength, it's nearly impossible to land a hit on you."
Then, with a mix of confusion and frustration, he added,
"That technique is already the pinnacle of the Water God Style! What more inspiration do you need? Are you trying to deflect my sword and cut my head off at the same time?!"
Allen blinked and immediately replied,
"Isn't that the point?"
Paul stared at Allen's serious expression, stunned.
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 90 on my patreon, go take a look.