Daiki Greyrat
I was only eight years old when I lost my parents. After that moment, my world became empty, and I became empty along with it. From that life—Hikari's life—only one memory refused to fade.
A stuffed animal. One my mother gave me when I was six. It was ugly, made of cheap plush that scratched the skin, with two lifeless plastic eyes. And when I saw her... She was tired, yet she wore a smile that seemed to offer me the entire universe. She waited, almost desperately, for me to be happy. I could see in her gaze that she regretted not being able to give me a better life... So, I didn't have the heart to disappoint her.
Shortly after, they were gone... And with them, all the colors. Birthdays ceased to exist. They became nothing more than simple marks on a calendar I no longer cared about.
That is why dying had been a relief to me. But then... I woke up here.
In this place, I have Paul, who ruffles our hair with a clumsiness that says "I love you." I also have Zenith, whose smile is capable of mending cracks in my soul that I didn't even know I had. And finally, I have Rudeus, my twin brother, the other half of my frequency in this world. He understands me more than anyone. We were both two Japanese souls who died beneath the wheels of a truck.
2 Years Later
And just like that, we turned five. For the first time since coming to this world, I rushed down the stairs with enthusiasm.
The first thing that hit us was the smell of freshly baked bread. Seasoned meat... The table was unbelievable. There were golden rolls, fruits, cheeses stacked in a generous tower, and a platter of meat that smelled of herbs.
For true nobles, this might be a simplicity, a mere country meal. But this was different. My mother had risen before dawn just to prepare this. Surely Paul had been there too, likely stealing scraps of food while she shooed him out of the kitchen.
After we ate everything with gusto, Paul decided to speak.
"It is time for the gifts. Here, when a boy turns five, he receives something special from his family. It is a tradition that marks the passage from early childhood to... well, slightly less early childhood."
He smiled with that roguish charm of his and went to fetch something he had left prepared in the other room. He returned holding two objects wrapped in cloth.
"Daiki... During these two years, you have shown dedication, discipline, and a passion for the sword that I rarely see in adults. Even more so than in myself. You have earned this, son."
He unwrapped the cloth, revealing two swords. One was wooden, slightly shorter and lighter than the one I usually used in practice. It was made to my measure, with better balance and a professional finish.
But the second one... was a real sword.
It wasn't large; in fact, it was designed for a five-year-old child. The hilt was wrapped in high-quality leather, and the pommel bore the engraving of the Greyrat family crest.
"Father, this is... I can't..."
"Believe it? Come on, son..." he interrupted me. "It is an authentic sword. With a real edge. This is not a toy, Daiki. It is a weapon."
"I know. I will take care of it... I promise to respect it."
My father smiled with pride and handed them to me. I reached out and took the wooden one first.
"The balance is completely different... much more refined," I murmured, testing the weight. "The point of equilibrium is exactly... here. It's perfect."
I placed the wooden sword on the table with reverence and, with that same care, I took the steel one. The metal was cold, heavy, real.
I stood up from the chair and executed a vertical cut into the air. The sound was clean—a sharp, dangerous whistle.
"The center of gravity is shifted forward..." I began to analyze aloud, losing track of my surroundings. "Towards the upper third of the blade. This changes the movement dynamics completely. It will require much more wrist strength to compensate, especially on upward cuts, but the inertia generated will allow..."
"Daiki."
I blinked, snapping out of my trance. As I did, I realized everyone was still there, staring at me.
"Yes, Father?"
He had a strange expression on his face. Amusement, perhaps. Pride, definitely.
"Do you like it?"
I smiled in a way that must have looked pathetic; I simply couldn't help it.
"Do I like it? Father, it's... it's the best gift in the world. It's incredible. I..."
For a moment, I was almost left speechless.
"Thank you so much, Father. Truly."
"You're welcome, son. You've earned it."
I turned toward my mother, seeking to share this with her as well.
"Can I show it to you, Mom?"
"Of course, honey. Come here."
Father stood up.
"Now then, the sword carries great responsibility. A man must always carry a sword in his heart. Not to aggress, but to protect. You must be prepared to defend those you love. Someday there will be people who depend on you, and your duty will be..."
"Paul," Zenith interrupted him.
"What? It's important that he understands...!"
"He is five years old. You can give him the 'honor of the swordsman' sermon when he is at least ten."
"It is never too early to..."
"Paul."
My father stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at my mother, and she returned the gaze with an expression that said, 'You lost this battle before it even started.'
"Alright, alright," he sighed. "The short version: put it away when you aren't using it, don't play with it like it's a stick, and if you ever unsheathe it against someone, make sure it is for a reason worth fighting for. Understood?"
"I understand. A sword is not a toy. It is a tool, and like any tool, it requires respect and purpose."
Paul blinked, surprised.
"Exactly. Where did you get that from?"
"From you. You said it about six months ago, during training."
Paul exchanged a look with my mother. She shrugged with a smile.
Then, it was Rudeus's turn.
I watched as Paul unwrapped another sword. It was similar to mine in design, though with slightly different details. He offered it to my brother with a solemn gesture.
"Rudy, I know your heart belongs to magic, not the sword. I don't expect you to follow the same path as your brother, but every man must know, at the very least, how to defend himself in close combat."
Rudeus took the sword with both hands, moving it with a bit of difficulty.
"It's heavier than I expected."
"Real steel always is."
"Thank you, Father. I will take care of it."
"I know you will." Paul ruffled his hair. "Now, your mother has something for both of you."
Zenith stepped forward holding two books.
"Daiki." She handed me the first one. "I know you've been interested in healing for some time now. This is a compendium on Healing and Detoxification Magic; it covers everything from basic to advanced levels... I thought it might help you."
I took the book, analyzing it.
"Mom... this must have cost a fortune."
"Books are expensive, it's true." She caressed my cheek. "But when it comes to my children's education, no price is too high."
"It's perfect! Thank you!" I said with an enthusiasm I didn't even think I possessed.
When she hugged me, I hugged her back and felt something damp on my hair. When we pulled apart, I saw her eyes were glistening.
"Are you crying? Did I hurt you?"
"They are tears of happiness, honey." She stroked my face with a trembling smile. "Just very happy."
Paul let out a fake huff.
"You hug her, but not your father? You little rascal!"
In response, Zenith squeezed me even tighter against her chest while shooting a defiant and amused look at my father.
"Okay, okay... I lost!" Paul exclaimed, raising his hands in surrender.
Satisfied with her victory, she broke the hug and approached Rudeus.
"And for you, Rudy." She handed him the second book, which was notably thicker. "A botanical encyclopedia. I know how much you like to study and learn about the world. It is filled with illustrations and explanations about the flora of the entire continent."
"Ohh!" he exclaimed, turning the pages avidly. "Mother, this is... look at these illustrations. They are incredibly detailed. And the descriptions of the magical and medicinal properties..."
He got lost in reading, before remembering where he was and snapping the book shut.
"Thank you very much, Mother. It was exactly what I wanted."
Zenith hugged him, shedding tears onto his hair just as she had done with me.
"I'm glad, sweetie."
And now, it was Roxy's turn.
She stepped forward holding two magic wands. They were simple, about thirty centimeters long, but one could tell they were crafted with care. Rudeus's had a blue stone embedded in the tip, while mine bore one of intense red.
"I made them last night," Roxy explained. "As your Shishou, it is my duty to present a staff to disciples who have mastered beginner-level elemental magic."
She paused and looked away, scratching her cheek in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry for the oversight. Since you both use voiceless magic from the start, I overlooked this tradition. Generally, a mage needs a wand to learn, not after."
It was evident that this was a sacred custom in the mage community. Roxy, who had initially been reluctant to accept the title of master, clearly did not feel comfortable ignoring a rite so important to her guild.
We both received the wands with gratitude, promising to guard them like treasures.
---
Perspective: Paul and Zenith Greyrat
That night, after the children were asleep, Paul and Zenith retired to their room.
"It was a good day." Paul collapsed onto the bed and stretched a bit.
"Daiki was so happy... When he received the sword, his eyes... they shone with an intensity I have rarely seen in him."
"That boy has the soul of a true swordsman..." He puffed out his chest. "In just two years, he has progressed at a terrifying pace."
"Do you think it was a good idea to give it to him so young?"
"He isn't like other five-year-olds, my love... He has a discipline and maturity that... well, that I lack even now. Besides, he will be supervised. It's not like he's going to run off on an adventure tomorrow."
He lay back down, staring up at the ceiling with a nostalgic smile.
"He has immense potential... much more than I had at his age."
"And Rudeus with his books and magic... He is so different from Daiki, but just as special."
"We have incredible children," Paul murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist. "They are night and day, yes. But both are extraordinary in their own way."
Zenith snuggled against her husband, feeling complete.
Her two sons, each with his own path, but both shining with their own light.
And that birthday, so perfect in every sense, became the ideal excuse to let themselves be swept away, once again, by the warmth of the night.
The intention had been to sleep, but Paul was not ready to end the celebration. He leaned over her and kissed her neck, seeking out that exact spot he knew would make her shiver.
Amidst laughter and gasps, she tried to feign annoyance, although her hands were already reaching for him.
"Y-You're impossible, Greyrat..."
---
POV: Daiki Greyrat
I knew that, starting tomorrow, training would change drastically. I was no longer that three-year-old child who struggled clumsily with basic attacks until collapsing from exhaustion.
Now, with two years of solid fundamentals seared into my muscle memory, combined with the martial experience of my past life, I was ready.
The proof rested right beside my bed: my new steel sword. Mom nearly screamed when she saw it so close. Even sheathed, she was convinced it would slice my foot off if I stepped out of bed clumsily. I had to promise her a thousand times that I would be careful just to calm her down, but beyond that, they allowed me to keep it. It was a "means of defense in case of attack," or so I said to convince her.
Putting those worries aside, what mattered was Paul's decision. The time had come to teach me the true swordsmanship of this world. Although I had previous experience thanks to Kendo and other martial arts, what Paul mentioned was different. He spoke of three main schools: the Sword God Style, the Water God Style, and the North God Style.
I could deduce the nature of the first two. The Sword God suggested pure attack, aggression, and speed. The Water God evoked fluidity, deflection, and defense. But the North God... I didn't have the slightest clue about that one. It was a total mystery.
"In this world, there are three main styles of sword combat. I mentioned their names to you before, in passing, but now it is time for you to understand what they truly mean. What they represent."
I positioned myself in front of him in the training courtyard. A few meters away, Rudeus watched alongside Roxy.
"The Sword God Style," Paul raised a finger, "is based on absolute offense. Strike first, strike fast, strike with lethal intent. Defense is secondary, almost irrelevant. The philosophy is simple: if you finish the enemy in the first move, you don't need to defend yourself. It is constant pressure until victory."
"The Water God Style," he raised a second finger, "is its perfect opposite. Total defense. Parries, deflections, precise counterattacks. It's about using the enemy's strength against them, flowing like water around a rock. Masters of this style can defend against anything: swords, magic, arrows... it is the quintessential style for royal guards and protectors."
Paul paused. He was about to raise a third finger, but it stopped halfway, limp, while a grimace of distaste crossed his face.
"And the North God Style... that isn't real swordsmanship. Not in the traditional sense. It's fighting dirty with a sword. Constant adaptation, psychological tricks, deception. Throwing dirt in their eyes, feigning an injury to ambush, using the environment... It's useful for mercenaries and adventurers who just want to survive, I suppose, but it lacks the honor and elegance of the other two."
He scratched the back of his neck and added in a lower voice:
"Although... I must admit it is effective. And it works to impress girls in bars, sometimes..."
He coughed and regained his composure upon noticing Zenith watching him.
"You will learn the Sword God Style as your foundation. It is the one I know best and the one I can teach you properly. But I will also instruct you in the Water God Style. Attack and defense. Those will be your two pillars. You cannot be a master if you are one-dimensional. Understood?"
"Yes, Father. I understand perfectly..."
So that was the North God Style. Even though he dismissed it with such disgust, I had to admit it sounded highly effective. Against stronger, faster enemies, or in life-or-death situations, "swordsman's honor" wouldn't matter to me if the price was my family's life. If throwing dirt in someone's eyes meant Rudeus or Mom survived... I would do it.
"Good," Paul nodded, satisfied, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Now, show me your basic stance of the Sword God Style. Everything you have learned so far. No rush, I want to see perfect form."
I stood before him, gripping my training sword, and began:
A vertical cut from a high guard. Horizontal at waist height, rotating the hips. Diagonal ascending, weight flowing from back to front. A change of stance, feet sliding over the packed earth. A direct thrust.
When I finished, returning to the initial position, I noticed Paul wore a strange expression.
"What is it?"
"Your form is..." he stopped, searching for the words, "almost perfect for your age. No, forget that. It is perfect, even for apprentices older than you." He narrowed his eyes. "You've been practicing more than I thought, haven't you? Beyond our official sessions."
"Every night before sleeping, I went over the movements in my mind. And sometimes, when everyone was asleep... I went out to the courtyard and practiced alone under the moon."
Paul let out a loud laugh, confirming his pride. Part of me expected a scolding for disobeying sleep schedules, but it never came.
"Obsessed brat..." He shook his head. "Fine. If you already master the fundamentals to this level, there is no point in holding you back. It is time to teach you what is truly important. What separates a merely competent swordsman from a true master."
He walked several steps toward the area where we kept the practice dummies.
"Swordsmanship in this world isn't simply swinging a metal stick. True masters, those who reach the advanced ranks, can split rocks with a single cut. They can move faster than the common human eye can follow."
"How?" I asked, frowning. "How is that physically possible? Muscle strength and material resistance have a limit..."
"Like this."
Paul planted himself in front of the dummy.
For an instant, he remained completely motionless.
And then... it simply happened.
What he did was an explosive movement, too fast to track. And then, the dummy simply split in two and fell to the sides.
"How...?" I swallowed hard. "How did you do that? That wasn't just brute strength. It is physically impossible to generate that speed and cutting power with muscles alone."
"Well... you take a firm step, concentrate your strength, and wham!" He made a vague gesture with his hand. "That's the trick, more or less."
"'More or less'? Father, you just cut a wooden log with a training sword... which is also made of wood. There has to be something more than simply 'taking a firm step'."
"You put strength in your hips, not your arms. Concentrate your energy at the point of impact. It's not that complicated once you get the hang of it after... you know, years of practice."
I wasn't buying that explanation.
"Father, you are using mana, aren't you?"
"Mana? No, I'm not a mage. It's just proper technique and years of—"
"It is mana. It has to be. There is no physical way to split treated wood like that. Basic physics doesn't allow it."
"Honestly... I don't know. I've never thought about it in those terms. I just... do it. I've always done it since I reached a certain level. When you train enough, repeat the movements thousands of times, your body learns to do it on its own."
An idea began to form in my mind. If it really was mana, if body reinforcement was the basis of advanced sword techniques...
"Can I try?"
I didn't even wait for his answer; I was already approaching the rock protruding from the garden.
"You can try, sure... but it usually takes years before someone achieves their first proper cut... Even talented students take months of dedicated practice to..."
I didn't listen to the rest.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out all external distractions. Inside my mind, I visualized the flow of mana within me. Roxy taught me to feel it, to direct it with my will. That had always been external.
But internally? I thought. What if I direct it through my own body?
Don't push it out. Carry it through your muscles. Reinforce the fibers. Strengthen the bones. Make it flow down your arms, into your hands, and from there, into the sword.
These were the commands I gave myself to try and imitate what my father had done. Primitive by my analysis, but closer than simple distance.
And when I opened my eyes, the only thing I could see was the rock and my sword.
I raised my sword above my head and, gathering all the strength this small body allowed, I let it fall in a strike, squeezing my eyelids shut just before impact.
When I looked again, I noticed the rock hadn't split in two. I didn't expect it to. However... there was a deep crack spanning a large part of the rock's diameter.
It was a cut far deeper than a five-year-old child should be capable of making.
"What...? What the hell did you just do?"
"Mana reinforcement. I visualized the flow of energy, directed it through my body into the sword, and cut."
"Daiki... What you just did... most swordsmen take years to achieve. Years of dedicated training, of failing over and over until finally, something clicks. And some never achieve it consciously... For them, it always remains a vague instinct, something they cannot control or activate at will."
"It wasn't perfect. I barely made a crack. You split a whole dummy."
Paul knelt to be at my eye level, placing his hands on my shoulders.
"Listen to me well. What you just did is not normal. Some of the best swordsmen I know couldn't explain how they reinforce their attacks even if their lives depended on it."
"Is... is that a bad thing?"
"Bad?" Paul let out a burst of laughter. "It's extraordinary! It's damn incredible!"
He lifted me off the ground in a sudden hug.
"My son is a prodigy!"
Rudeus approached alongside a curiosity-filled Roxy, who was already frantically writing things down in her journal. Rudy, on the other hand, used my shoulder as an armrest, just as he always did whenever something intrigued him.
"You better teach me that..." he said. "It's interesting. A magic I was unaware of."
"After class, I'll gladly try."
The following days had been intense, in a way that made the previous training seem like merely the vague introduction of a cheap book.
Paul completely adjusted my regimen. Now, I not only practiced forms, stances, and mock combat, but I dedicated specific time each day to channeling mana while executing sword techniques.
The exhaustion was something completely different.
Fatiguing the muscles until they burned was one thing. But emptying your mana reserve while demanding maximum physical precision was another story entirely.
At the end of each session, I would collapse on the garden grass, spent.
But I was progressing.
Slowly, week after week, the "reinforcement" became a more natural part of me.
"The final trick," Paul explained to me during a particularly tough session, "is not to think of it as two separate things. It's not 'execute the cut' plus 'reinforce with mana.' It is, simply, 'cut for real'."
It made sense... Basically, it was like learning to ride a bike; at first, you think about every aspect. But eventually, you stop thinking and just ride.
"Daiki, I must ask you something important. Do you really love the sword as much as magic? Or are you simply forcing yourself because you believe you must master both? Because this path you are taking... is exponentially harder than specializing in just one," Roxy had said in one of her sessions.
The question surprised me.
Did I love them? Or was I just following a pattern because it was expected?
"Yes. The sword makes me feel alive. Anchored to the physical moment in a way nothing else achieves. Magic makes me feel... powerful. They are completely different, but both complete me in ways I cannot explain."
"Then we will continue. But I want to teach you something specific for someone walking your particular path."
Over the next few weeks, she showed me battle magic techniques she had never mentioned before. Quick spells that could be cast with a single hand while the other held a sword.
"A true magic swordsman does not use magic and sword separately, alternating between them."
It was exactly what I needed to hear. The confirmation that the path I had chosen, while difficult, was possible.
And I was determined to walk it as far as I could go.
It was around those days, just when I was starting to take my first steps in swordsmanship under Paul's tutelage, that the magic lessons with Roxy began to turn considerably more technical and practical.
"What happens if you cast Waterfall, then Geothermal Isle, and then Field of Cold, in that order?" Roxy asked.
"Mist forms."
"Correct. So, how would you disperse that mist?"
"I would use Geothermal Isle again to heat the ground."
"Exactly. Try it."
Rudeus tried it.
"This is called Combined Magic," Roxy explained, addressing mainly Rudeus. "It is about provoking a natural phenomenon by combining different types of magic in a precise sequence."
"For example," Roxy continued, "in grimoires, there is magic to make it rain, but curiously there is no spell recorded to generate mist directly. So, ancient mages resorted to combining different spells to reproduce that natural phenomenon."
I finished my set of cuts and walked over, still holding the wooden sword. Combined magic sounded useful, especially for someone like me looking to integrate magic and physical combat.
"The understanding of natural phenomena is not very developed. In that sense, combined magic is full of the ingenuity and creativity of the mages of old."
"Sensei," I interrupted, resting my sword against my shoulder, "does that mean you could technically create almost any natural phenomenon if you understand how it works?"
Roxy looked at me, and for a moment seemed to carefully consider her answer.
"Magic can do many things, yes." She closed her eyes. "But you must not overestimate it, Daiki. Only act calmly, doing what you can do and what you should do. Not everything is possible, and not everything is prudent."
"Besides," she added, crossing her arms and looking at me, "if you go around saying you can do everything, you'll end up receiving requests for things you can't even do."
"Do you say that from personal experience, Sensei?" Rudeus asked.
"I do." Roxy sighed. "I will have to be more careful with what I promise in the future."
"But are there really people who request so many things from a mage?" Rudeus asked again.
"Of course. It's not like there are that many Advanced Rank mages." Roxy raised a finger. "Approximately, one in twenty people is capable of combat. Of those, only one in twenty is a mage. That is, one mage for every four hundred people."
"But those who have studied properly until finishing magic school—that is, Advanced Rank—are one in a hundred mages. That means an Advanced Rank mage is one in forty thousand people."
I whistled softly. That was considerably rare.
"And if, additionally, they can use combined magic along with Intermediate and Advanced spells, their capabilities multiply exponentially. That is why they are so sought after in various fields. Even to work as private tutors, having at least that rank is required."
Rudeus stepped forward with another question, clearly as interested as I was.
"And which is the best university?"
"Without a doubt, the Ranoa Magic University. It has excellent facilities and professors. You can receive modern, high-level classes that you wouldn't learn in other schools."
"Did you graduate from there too?" asked Rudeus.
"I did. Although... since magic schools tend to be very elitist, I, being of the demon race, could only enroll in the Magic University. In other places, just not being Human is enough for them to reject you in the selection phase."
I frowned. Discrimination was something that deeply bothered me.
"But the Ranoa Magic University doesn't have those absurd prejudices... As long as the theory is correct, they won't reject you just for being eccentric or from another race. Furthermore, by accepting diverse races, enormous progress has been made in studying forms of magic unique to each one. If you decide to dedicate yourselves to magic, I strongly recommend considering that university."
I exchanged a glance with Rudeus.
"It's still too soon to decide that, isn't it?"
"For you, Rudy, yes... But there is little left that I can teach you. Since you are approaching graduation, I think it is a good time to talk about this."
"Graduation?"
"The graduation exam will be outside the village. I already have a horse ready to go."
I saw Rudeus stiffen. I knew that reaction... I understood perfectly why the idea of going outside terrified him.
"Outside...?"
"Yes, outside the village." She looked at him with curiosity. "Is there a problem?"
"Couldn't we do it inside the house...?"
"We cannot."
"We... we can't...?"
Roxy seemed to misinterpret his hesitation.
"Is something wrong?"
"It's just that... there might be monsters outside..." Rudeus was desperately looking for excuses.
"As long as we don't get close to the forest, it is very rare to run into one in this area. And even if it happens, they are weak. Even I can defeat them alone without a problem. What's more, I think you could handle them too, Rudy."
Rudeus didn't answer. He just stared at some undefined point in the distance.
"Ah, now that I remember... Rudy, you've never left the house, have you?"
"No..." he admitted in a low voice.
"I see... So, what scares you... is the horse?"
"I-It's not that I'm scared of horses!"
"Fufu. I'm glad to hear it. I see that, in part, you are as childish as fits your age. That is a relief."
Before Rudeus could protest further, Roxy lifted him onto her shoulder with surprising strength for her size.
"Waaah?!"
"Once you're mounted, you'll see it's not so scary anymore."
"Wait, Sensei," I intervened. "Let me speak to my brother a moment? Alone, please."
"Of course. I'll take a break anyway." She lowered Rudeus carefully and headed toward the house. "I'll take the chance to eat something. I'm hungry after preparing everything."
Once she was far enough away, I turned to Rudeus.
"Rudy." I put a hand on his shoulder, speaking in Japanese. "I know exactly what is happening."
Rudeus looked at me, but said nothing.
"I know why you've never left the house... I remember everything you told me."
"It's pathetic, isn't it?"
"No. It isn't. But listen to me carefully."
"...Alright, I'm listening."
"It's just a ride with Roxy. She will protect you, and honestly, I doubt you'll find anyone beyond a few bored villagers... But if when you come back, someone, anyone, bothered you or made you feel bad... tell me. Just tell me who it was."
"And what will you do?"
"Whatever is necessary. No one is going to make you feel like in your past life. Not while I'm here. Understood?"
Rudeus nodded.
"Understood."
"Good. Now go and show our Sensei what you're made of. And try not to do anything too crazy."
That drew a small laugh from Rudeus.
"No promises."
And so they left.
Once I could no longer see them, I decided to go back inside the house.
"You didn't go with them?" asked Zenith from the kitchen, where she was preparing something that smelled delicious.
"It's Rudeus's exam, not mine." I sat at the table. "Besides, I already have my own training pending with Father."
"Paul is taking a nap," Zenith laughed. "He said something about needing energy for the afternoon session."
"Meaning, he fell asleep on the sofa."
"Exactly."
---
I spent the next few hours practicing basic forms in the courtyard, going over the movements Paul had taught me again and again. Just as I was about to execute the last attack, I heard the sound of my father's horse's hooves.
I set the wooden sword aside and went out to the front of the house, coinciding with Roxy and Rudeus's return. Seeing them, I blinked in surprise. Both were completely soaked, as if they had just stepped out from under a waterfall.
"What the hell happened to you two?" I asked.
"Graduation exam successful." Roxy dismounted with an expression somewhere between proud and exhausted. "Your brother is officially a Saint Rank Water Mage."
"Seriously?"
"Yes." Rudeus got down from the horse as well. "It was... intense."
"I bet it was," I smiled at him.
Zenith came out of the house at that precise moment, interrupting the sentimental moment.
"Good heavens! You're soaked!" She ran toward them with her usual worried mother expression. "You're going to catch a cold. Inside, both of you. Now. You need to dry off and change immediately."
"Yes, Mother," Rudeus let himself be dragged inside while saying goodbye.
Roxy followed him, shivering slightly and murmuring something about needing hot towels.
Just then, Paul appeared, yawning loudly and scratching his stomach.
"What did I miss?"
"Rudeus passed his graduation exam. He is officially a Saint Rank Mage now."
Paul whistled.
"That brat..." he shook his head, unable to hide a proud smile. "I guess now I have to try harder not to be left behind as a father."
"Probably."
"And you?" Paul locked his eyes on me. "Ready to train?"
"Always."