"Excellent."
Adele watched the pure white light appear along the rapier in Gauss's hand and nodded in approval.
"Though I expected as much, I still didn't think you'd master this sword skill so quickly."
Adele's feelings were complicated.
The past few days spent teaching Gauss had flown by, yet she hadn't felt the slightest trace of boredom.
Instead, she'd felt an indescribable sense of exhilaration and accomplishment.
Whenever she taught him something new, Gauss absorbed everything she showed him at an astonishing speed, like a sponge.
It usually took only one or two corrections—and at most a few—for him to fix any mistake.
It was as if she were witnessing the birth of a "miracle" with her own eyes. And although she felt she'd only given him some simple guidance, she could still consider herself half Gauss's teacher when it came to the White Falcon Sword Technique.
Whenever she thought of that, a surge of pride rose in her heart.
I'm the one who taught this kid.
Of course, whenever that happened, she couldn't help remembering how much effort it had taken her to learn the skill herself.
Her feelings would then veer in a far more complicated direction.
Surely very few people in this world could witness such an incredible capacity for learning and improvement without feeling inferior.
This was the White Falcon Sword Technique, a skill even Master Rank Swordsmen could use—and an extremely difficult one at that. He'd mastered it in just a few days.
And what about her?
Whenever she considered the difference in how long they'd taken, she couldn't help lamenting how unfair the heavens were.
She felt powerless, as though her only purpose were to serve as a backdrop for these truly heaven-blessed prodigies.
"Teacher Adele, is there anything wrong with my White Falcon