It was true that Xenovia's tendency to charge headlong into danger was as prominent as ever. She was, perhaps, a bit too bold.
Then again, Maurice's strength was simply abnormal. Even Xenovia, whose main asset was raw power, had been completely overpowered in a head-to-head clash. And as for me, I hadn't been able to land a single scratch on him.
Looking closely, I saw her eyes were starting to well up. That last comment about being a "moron" seemed to have cut deep.
Maurice gave a wry smile and continued.
"You can sharpen that intuition starting now. That's why I'm training you. Once you hone that sense, your power-plays will be on a whole different level. As a first step, I want you to learn this."
Maurice drew one of the swords from his waist.
In an instant, the blade turned pitch black—and a black shockwave of force was unleashed!
An attack made of pure sword-intent. A secret technique mastered only by those who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
"This is similar to the 'Ki' or 'Touki' that Issei uses, but it's a bit different. It's a technique only available to those who walk the path of the sword and fight as one with their blade. There's no logic to it. You fire it by feel. Out of the three of you, I think Xenovia will be the quickest to pick it up."
"Me?"
"Yeah. If I try to cram technical theories into your head, it won't stick. Teaching you formal katas or complex skills would just result in a half-baked mess. That's more Yuuto or Irina's speed."
"I feel like I was just insulted," Xenovia muttered. "Is it just my imagination?"
"Total imagination. Or maybe just paranoia. For a muscle-bra—ahem—for someone who fights by instinct like you, it's better to teach you a power that fits that instinct."
"You said it! You definitely just said 'muscle-brain'!"
"Calm down, Xenovia," Irina sighed. "It's not like it's news."
"It's not?!"
"You're just realizing this now?!"
And just like that, the usual bickering began. The words "Self-Proclaimed Angel" and "Self-Proclaimed Swordsman" started flying back and forth.
It had started as a serious discussion about combat technique and power, but the conversation quickly derailed into petty arguments about their daily lives—school, home, and then...
"My chest is bigger than yours, anyway!"
"We're the same size! Besides, Issei-kun said mine were softer!"
"He said mine had better firmness! Which means yours are just sagging, Irina!"
"They are not sagging! They're firm! Yours aren't firm, they're just hard muscle! You're just a muscle-brain with muscle-boobs!"
Setting Issei aside, this really wasn't a conversation they should be having in front of other men.
Have you two forgotten Maurice and I are standing right here? I have no idea how I'm supposed to react to this...
"Yuuto," Maurice sighed. "Go wake Issei up. We aren't getting anywhere like this."
"Don't ask the impossible... We can't even leave this room."
Five minutes later, I finally managed to mediate the dispute.
Once things had settled, Maurice turned to Irina.
"Alright, finally, Irina. You don't have Xenovia's raw power, and you don't have Yuuto's extreme speed or versatility."
"Total rejection right out of the gate?!"
"I'm not rejecting you. It's true that compared to those two, you might seem like you lack a 'hook,' but—"
"Gaan!" Irina slumped, devastated.
"Hey, don't get depressed before I finish. You can fight on the front lines, you can provide precise support, and you can use light-based abilities for long-range cover. As a warrior, you have more range than Yuuto or Xenovia. You're an all-rounder—even if you lean toward close combat."
Come to think of it, before Irina obtained her mass-produced Holy-Demonic Sword and Hauteclere, she used to support us from the rear with light spears. I'd almost forgotten because she fought on the vanguard so often now, but her utility as a support was top-tier.
Maurice pointed to the Hauteclere at Irina's waist.
"Plus, there's that blade. The power to purify those it cuts is incredibly effective against Evil Dragons and monsters."
I had seen the purifying power of Hauteclere with my own eyes. Even someone as formidable as Ewald Cristaldi had found his will to fight shaken by that light.
"The task I'm giving you," Maurice told her, "is to master the purification of Hauteclere until it's second nature. Not just by swinging the sword, but by coating your light spears in it so you can fire it from the back. I want you to develop your skills as a support specialist."
"That sounds... much more reasonable than what Kiba-kun or Xenovia have to do..."
"Don't be so sure. Handling the front, middle, and rear while providing flexible support to your allies... It's easy to say, but doing so many things requires immense tactical wit. You need to understand the flow of battle and maintain a wide field of vision. In a way, your training might be the hardest of all."
Maurice's expression turned solemn.
"Actually, the training all of you are about to do is going to be hellish. I won't actually kill you, but I'm going to ask you to put your lives on the line. Asia, I'll need your help too. If things go south, I'm counting on you."
"Yes! I'll make sure to heal everyone's injuries!"
Maurice gently patted Asia's head as she spoke with newfound determination. Then, he stepped back and looked at the three of us.
He drew his second sword.
"Let's begin. Our job is to stand at the front, cut down the enemy, and protect the comrades behind us. If we fall, our friends are in danger. That's why we cannot afford to lose."
Maurice was right. We were the swords and the shields of our Master and our friends. Our defeat would lead directly to their peril.
"I believe in your strength, your resolve, and your potential. Because of that... I'm not going to hold anything back."
The room went silent. A heavy, suffocating pressure dominated the space.
The three of us gripped our respective swords.
Maurice watched us, a sharp smile playing on his lips.
"Young swordsmen—go beyond your limits."
[Kiba Yuuto Perspective: END]
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