"An anything-goes spar?"
"We can use skills and magic. Miss Mikoto, don't worry about getting hurt—I want to see exactly where my limits are right now!"
After laying out the simple rules, Keyaru met the long-black-haired girl's eyes with earnest resolve. He didn't think this was all she had—anyone who'd reached the rarefied rank of Level 2 in Orario had to have something special. That seemed to put her last doubts to rest.
Striking while the iron was hot, he raised the real reason for visiting the Takemikazuchi Familia:
"Honestly, going all out with you is part of something else… There's a request I can only move forward with if I have your approval."
Good thing he didn't play coy. Asking favors after a meal would've made it hard to refuse; stating his reasons up front suited her far better.
Mikoto nodded calmly. "Just say it."
"These last two days in the Dungeon, I realized… solo delving only gets you so far. But my Familia's situation is ordinary—there's only me, and I can't find teammates."
He looked her straight in the eye. "So… I'd like to ask if I can join your Familia's dives."
"To show I won't be a burden, I want this chance to go all out and earn your approval."
"…I want to say this isn't mine to decide." Faced with his sincerity, Mikoto didn't refuse. She gathered herself. "No problem—but I can't guarantee the result. The Level gap creates a huge difference in strength. I won't use magic in this spar—but you can use anything."
"Thank you."
He thanked her again, opened some space, and as soon as his hands closed on the wooden hilt he didn't hesitate.
Transformation.
His body was already used to the new power distribution. He felt light—thoughts sharpening—and knew he couldn't fight defensively.
He had to attack and force an opening.
Gathering power in his legs, he burst toward her, wooden blade sweeping with a crack of air.
Thud!
The solid practice swords met with a dull boom. The shock traveled through the hilt and numbed Mikoto's hands. Before she could be surprised, Keyaru's next swing was already coming; she blocked by instinct.
For comparison: even if Chigusa went easy on her, Mikoto never felt pressed like this. But with Keyaru… how was he doing this?!
Losing the initiative, she could only defend—but the seamless, flaw-free flow of his offense gave her a jolt of recognition.
It was like facing an adventurer whose stats were almost equal to hers—only his swordcraft outstripped her own.
"This guy…"
"Is he really a rookie with just two days' Dungeon time?"
—
The result, of course, was a win for Yamato Mikoto. Transformation has a time limit—while it was up, Keyaru could press her in the short term. But with no decisive finisher, he was bled for stamina, and matching styles gave him no path through.
Once his weakness window hit, her counterattack was unstoppable. Aching all over, he couldn't even tell which pain to heal first.
The good news—
Body tempering raises Endurance, and Imitation lets him absorb missing fight experience. Thinking of the gains, he actually felt great.
"Haa…"
"That was your magic?" Mikoto asked, slumped on the ground too, sweat darkening the hair at her temples. Her face was calm, but her heart was pounding. To suppress a Level 2 for a stretch—at her own stage she wouldn't have dared imagine it, but Keyaru had tried and even managed that much.
Objectively, a small Familia like Takemikazuchi's would benefit from his help: split the load, raise the haul. But as a member she couldn't give a final answer.
Keeping her promise, she pushed up on the wooden sword and stood, expression very serious.
"Keyaru, if we were the same Level—and even if I used magic—you would win this fight. As for your proposal, I have to ask our god first."
"Sorry to trouble you, Miss Mikoto."
Watching the long-haired beauty walk away, Keyaru finally caught his breath, pushed himself up with a wince, and sat.
Holding nothing back meant pain everywhere; even lifting an arm made him grit his teeth.
"Tch."
"Good thing I've got the switch."
Heal.
He cast at once, the clothes hiding the gentle glow, and then absorbed every scrap of fight experience via Imitation.
With that hugely profitable spar done, the next step was simple—
Wait.
He murmured, "If I can team up, my growth rate will spike—and I'll shave a lot off the time to break into Level 2."
—
"I need a convincing reason."
As the Familia captain, Kashima Ouka's stern face grew heavier as he listened to Mikoto's request. Dungeon runs aren't child's play; one weak link can drag down the whole team.
"Our god taught him the basics. You've been handling his live-combat practice. For a chance acquaintance, that's already enough," he said flatly. "We're headed to the middle floors. Bringing a brand-new rookie will only burden us. You're not saying his strength already meets the standard, are you?"
"…"
"I know how strong he is," Mikoto answered, lifting her gaze to Ouka and then to Lord Takemikazuchi, who watched, amused.
She thought back to their bout; the pressure still hadn't faded. Her face tightened. "You won't believe it, but the truth is: in our spar just now, a boy who's been an adventurer only a few days suppressed me on strength for a while.
"If we add him, I'm sure our Familia's dives will get a lot easier."
Hearing that, the god of war—who'd stayed silent the whole time—smiled his usual gentle smile and nodded. "Mikoto's not wrong."
"From the sound of it…" he added, "our old friend's new child is gifted not just at the sword, but across the board."
Gods come to Orario to seek change, and Keyaru embodied that. Remembering that he was Hestia's child, Takemikazuchi's tone turned warmly reflective—happy for his friend from the heart.
"To meet a child like that—her luck… leaves you speechless!"