Chapter 8
The air in the yard felt different.
Heavier.
Paul didn't smile this time.
No casual posture.
No relaxed stance.
"…Alright, Rudy."
He raised his wooden sword.
Properly.
"Let's see what you can really do."
Rudeus stepped forward.
Immediately—
He noticed it.
The pressure changed.
Paul wasn't holding back the same way anymore.
His stance was tighter.
His breathing controlled.
His weight perfectly centered.
"…Good."
Rudeus moved.
Faster than before.
Swing.
Paul blocked—
Clean.
Efficient.
Minimal movement.
But Rudeus didn't stop.
Second strike.
Third.
Fourth.
A chain.
Each strike flowed into the next—
Not through instinct—
But calculation.
Paul's eyes narrowed.
He's not just copying anymore…
He's connecting them.
A fifth strike came—
At a slightly altered angle.
Paul adjusted—
But this time—
Tap.
The wooden swords scraped.
Closer than before.
"…You almost got me."
Rudeus said nothing.
But inside—
Everything sharpened.
Closer isn't enough.
That night—
He didn't just train harder.
He trained smarter.