Paul's Excessive 'Enthusiasm' and Rudy's Excessive 'Indifference'

Allen stared silently at the sword tip an inch from his eye.

Paul narrowed his eyes, gripping his sword with both hands, shoulders lowered, body tilted. He stood in a horse stance in front of Allen, poised for a thrust.

On the ground, their shadows remained motionless.

"He won! Dad won— mmph!"

From a distance, Rudeus had just launched himself into the air, ready to celebrate, when Zenith grabbed him, causing him to crash. At the same time, she clapped a hand over his mouth.

She let out a nervous breath, looking down at Rudy.

"Rudy, don't yell and disturb your father!"

Rudeus feigned innocence, his face full of surprise.

"Huh? But Dad already won, and he even pulled back! Otherwise, he would've pierced that kid's head with one thrust!"

Lilia, too, exclaimed in surprise at this moment. She unconsciously rubbed the sweat from her palms, turned to Rudy, and whispered, "Young master, if you look closer, it's actually master who's at a disadvantage. His aggressive opening was seen through by his opponent... what a brilliant opening gambit... That young man doesn't look very old, yet his Swordsmanship is so outstanding."

Seen through? What does that mean?

Rudeus quickly turned his head to look at the courtyard.

The wind carried a strange sound, like... the grating screech of metal rubbing against itself.

He stared at the postures of the two in the courtyard, his eyes widening.

By now, the sun had sunk lower, and the direction of light and shadow had shifted slightly.

In the shadow cast by Paul's shoulder, a glimmer of light emerged from between their bodies.

It was a thin, gleaming blade, extending from the messy-haired pervert's hand, piercing directly into the hilt of Paul's sword, perfectly lodged in the hollow triangular cutout on the hilt.

The blade trembled slightly, and the point where it met the hilt emitted a fine, scraping sound.

It wasn't that Paul had pulled back and stopped; rather, his attack had been blocked by the blade.

The outcome was still undecided.

Paul continuously pushed forward, applying pressure to the sword hilt, while Allen silently infused Fighting Spirit into his arm, exerting force to stop the other's thrust.

Paul smiled.

"Sword God Style – Wrist Drop. Realizing you couldn't dodge my Sword God Style preemptive strike, you instantly reacted with a Wrist Drop towards my wrist, forcing me to block with my hilt. A beautiful offense as defense."

Allen looked at Paul's face along the length of his sword.

"Sword God Style preemptive strike? Not North God Style?"

Paul dangerously narrowed his eyes.

"Oh? Are you saying I ambushed you?"

"Hardly—"

Just as he uttered one word, at the edge of Allen's vision, a right leg, leaving a blur, rapidly came towards his chest. Allen's pupils constricted, his wrist instantly twisted, moving the blade. While maintaining the stance that pressed against Paul's scabbard, he turned the blade outward. At the same time, he took a step forward to the side, perfectly hiding his chest behind the back of the blade.

The blade connected their bodies, and using the force of their struggle, it firmly formed a natural steel defense line.

The next moment.

Paul's foot hovered steadily in front of the blade.

Then, he bent his knee and jumped, pulling back his sword and leaping several meters away.

Allen rotated his blade and retracted his step, still in the same mid-level starting stance as before, as if his posture had never changed.

He looked at Paul's smiling face, pursed his lips, and then finally spoke the words he'd been holding back.

"...ly, is it? From start to finish, it was all cunning tricks. Even the high-level opening was a feint. If I had mistaken it for a chop and reacted incorrectly in haste, the thrust after that feint would have decided the match."

Paul, who superficially disdains North God Style, is actually very skilled in it. It's no wonder he was once on the same team as Ghislaine, and managed to successfully get laid during the beastmen's estrus period. Wait, wasn't Eris also involved? And then they successfully played a multi-person game?

Black Wolf Fang only had three female members; the remaining one was Zenith, now Paul's wife. The cunning of North God Style is ingrained in his instincts, not limited to Swordsmanship. He even has impeccable timing when it comes to sleeping with women...

Paul chuckled, showing no sign of the anger from their previous fight. Undoubtedly, that was also a deliberate act to cover his subsequent leg movement.

"Very good. A perfect, academic Water God Style defensive stance. Your precise perception of killing intent makes you an excellent Water God Style Swordsman. In that case..."

Allen wasn't going to respond; he just watched Paul's sword-gripping right hand.

But who would have thought, the next moment, the other party would make an announcement.

"You're hired. Of course, there's also a seven-day probationary period. Come with me, I'll pick out a room for you."

With that, he turned and walked towards the house door.

Allen, stunned, sheathed his sword.

That's it? It's over? My body hasn't even warmed up yet! Damn it, I should've gone all out with North God Style or Sword God Style. It wasn't satisfying at all, and...

Allen watched as the main wife and concubine joyfully welcomed Paul back like a returning hero. Rudeus, however, upon seeing Allen's gaze, immediately turned his head away and stiffly walked back into the house.

Starting abruptly, ending perfunctorily... Rudeus's tutoring job seemed to go inexplicably smoothly...

After pondering for a moment, Allen's lips curved into a smile, and he walked towards Zenith, who was gesturing for him to come over.

He dispersed the dust motes in the air.

Mushoku Tensei Major Event Participation Score Increased.

Current Stage: Infancy, Total Participation Score: 35 points.

Pending Immediate Task: Gain Rudeus's favor.

Rudeus: Countdown: 79:13:21

The task notification was back online.

"Is your name Allen?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Zenith walked to the door of a bedroom, opened it, and gestured for Allen to look inside.

"You don't seem very old. Would you mind telling me your age?"

Allen looked at the familiar layout of the bedroom before him and smiled.

This was the room Lokkishi stayed in.

"Nine years and four months."

Zenith was startled and turned to look at Allen in surprise.

"...I really wouldn't have guessed. You're much taller than others your age. Are you already an adventurer at such a young age? That's truly amazing."

That's nothing compared to your precious son, who was already gallivanting around the Demon Continent with girls at the age of ten.

Allen turned to look at Zenith, who was half a head taller than him. Her expression of praise was very sincere, her eyelashes fluttering with feminine gentleness and understanding.

She clearly has the look of a victim.

Paul, oh Paul… you truly deserve to die.

"You flatter me, ma'am. Children from poor families grow up fast."

Zenith smiled, pointing her finger towards the end of the hallway behind her.

"Paul told me to tell you to find him in the study after you've put your luggage away. I need to go prepare dinner."

"Thank you for your hard work, ma'am."

Allen smiled and watched Zenith leave. He took out the map and compass from the Swordsman uniform's pocket, placed them on the table along with his long sword, and then walked out the door, turning his head to look at the other end of the hallway.

A small head suddenly retracted into its room, and then, with a thump, the door closed.