Once the basics of swordplay were in place, live-combat technique became the priority.
After a quick bite, Keyaru headed for the "group dorm" where the god of war Takemikazuchi lived. Orario was especially lively at dusk, but now that he'd found a clear path forward, he didn't let his eyes wander. Enjoying life could wait until he'd shored up his strength and finances.
"This is the place… So which room is Lord Takemikazuchi's?"
Hestia had brought him here last night, but on his own he had no idea how to find the god. All he could do was wait—when footsteps and voices approached from behind, oddly familiar.
He turned and first saw a girl with long, straight black hair. It fell smoothly over her shoulders; she wore a purple kimono-style outfit with red shoulder guards for accents. Most striking was her tall, lithe build—fair, toned legs from constant Dungeon runs, the dark-red over-knee socks fitting snugly.
Yamato Mikoto.
"Did I really get this lucky?"
He knew exactly who she was: a Level 2 adventurer of the Takemikazuchi Familia—upright, polite, and, crucially, a user of the gravity-field magic "Futsunomitama," an all-rounder in the Dungeon.
With her were two others: the broad-shouldered, short-haired man Kashima Ouka—the main instigator of the original "Monster Feria" incident—and the shoulder-length, heavy-bangs, slightly gloomy Hitachi Chigusa.
"Perfect—saves me the trouble of hunting down Lord Takemikazuchi."
Keyaru focused on Mikoto's handsome, gallant face. "Excuse me—are you members of Lord Takemikazuchi's Familia?"
"And you are?" she asked, one hand on her katana, arms folded, brows slightly drawn as she studied him. Her instincts said she'd never seen this boy before. As for why he'd be looking for the god, the answer came to her quickly:
"Are you trying to… join Lord Takemikazuchi's Familia? If so, I'm sorry—we're not recruiting right now."
"You misunderstood. I'm here to ask Lord Takemikazuchi to hone my skills."
Avoiding pointless small talk, Keyaru stated his purpose plainly. "We agreed on it beforehand."
"I'll check."
Mikoto nodded lightly. Exchanging a look with Ouka and Chigusa, she went inside while the other two stayed put.
"Training?" In the dorm, Takemikazuchi immediately recalled the boy Hestia had brought the night before—Keyaru. After just one day of fundamentals he wanted live sparring already? Surprising—but he had agreed. With a mild smile: "Yes, it was arranged. A request from another god."
"I see…" Mikoto had assumed he wanted to join. It wasn't that they rejected new members, but their Familia sent all Dungeon income back to the Far East to fund an orphanage. Most adventurers came to earn money—objectively, Takemikazuchi's Familia might not suit Keyaru.
"Do you need to go in person? If the gap isn't too big, I can handle it," she offered.
"He just started the basics yesterday, and his weapon style is similar to yours," Takemikazuchi replied without hesitation. Training someone up was easy for him, but too large a gap made it hard for the trainee to grasp anything. Considering that, he nodded. "All right—leave the sparring to you. He hasn't been an adventurer long; he should have the basics. Be mindful in live drills."
"I will," she said seriously. Sparring with Familia members was routine—this time the trainee just happened to be from another Familia. As long as it helped her god, she was happy to do it.
She grabbed two wooden practice swords, followed Takemikazuchi back out to the yard—and before she could explain, he'd already stepped up to the brown-haired boy.
"Keyaru," he said kindly, "you'll spar with my child Mikoto. When the strength gap isn't too large, you can really feel your technique improve."
"Much appreciated, Lord Takemikazuchi."
Keyaru had no objections. So long as he could spar, he could use Mimic to level up across the board. Who the partner was didn't matter—free practice is free practice.
He accepted the wooden sword and looked to the serious-faced beauty. "Keyaru."
"Yamato Mikoto," she answered with a small nod. Since this was a request from another god, it wouldn't do to injure him badly. Her dark eyes met his as she warned, "You might get hurt. I have to be clear about that."
"No problem."
He'd actually worried that sparring with Takemikazuchi himself would make the god pull his punches out of respect for Hestia. If it was Mikoto…
He tightened his grip, feeling a spark of anticipation. Get hurt, heal, use Imitation to absorb the combat experience—double the gains.
Seeing her uncertainty, he added calmly, "There's no point in 'holding back' in live training. If that's a concern… what's the point of sparring at all?"
"…!"
A flicker of surprise crossed Mikoto's eyes. For someone she'd just met, he left a good impression: this mindset was exactly what warranted Takemikazuchi's personal guidance.
She firmed her grip on the wooden blade, didn't rush in, and carefully checked his stance and hold. For someone new to the basics, his posture was impressively solid—but her god wouldn't lie.
Mikoto drew a breath; her gaze sharpened like a hawk's. She stepped in decisively.
"Forgive me—coming in."