Allen VS Paul: This Is the Soundless Katana!

Allen's pupils contracted. The blade in his hand, which he hadn't had time to turn, was too late to block Paul's sword. He thrust his palm forward, exposing a section of the hilt, ready to use the Water God Style's profound technique to neutralize Paul's attack.

No! This won't make me stronger!

Allen halted the profound technique that was already at hand, and Paul immediately struck the end of his sword hilt.

The blow, infused with Fighting Spirit, sent him flying. He managed to adjust his posture and land firmly, but even so, without the Water God Style's technique to neutralize the inertia, his body still plowed a half-meter furrow in the ground.

But the moment he steadied himself, he abruptly used his Fighting Spirit, leveraging the reverse impact to slam hard into Paul!

Clang! The two blades shrieked, locked in a back-and-forth struggle just a few centimeters apart.

Paul blocked with his sword in front of his neck, looking at Allen who instinctively glanced down at his lower body. He roared in anger, "You only focused on my neck, that strike was decent! But where are you looking now?!"

Allen gritted his teeth and folded his blade, the sword light leaving afterimages in the air as it attacked the other side of Paul's neck.

But at that moment, Paul's sword was already a few centimeters from Allen's throat.

No! His Sword God Style is faster!

Allen shuffled his feet, twisted, and flashed to Paul's side, avoiding the blade. As his body twisted, his sword cut through the air and aimed for Paul's ribs, but Paul's sword once again accurately struck later but arrived first, clashing with Allen's blade and knocking it away from his front.

Allen distanced himself, still wanting to charge forward, but Paul reached out and stopped him.

His usual playful demeanor was completely gone. His expression serene, he looked at Allen.

"Allen, adjust your breathing. Calm down."

Then, with his free hand, he pointed to a spot one finger-width in front of his own neck.

"Focus only here. Discard any thoughts of subsequent variations. Just keep the feeling of the swing."

"Then, strike. It's that simple."

Paul narrowed his eyes.

"I'll count to three. Strike immediately. Understand?"

Allen took a deep breath, and his breathing instantly became steady.

He looked gravely at Paul, nodded, and then closed his eyes.

He whispered to himself, …Faster than thought.

Allen opened his eyes, looking at Paul's neck.

"Okay."

Paul watched Allen's stance, licking his lips with considerable interest.

"One!"

Allen lowered his center of gravity, squatting, and gripped the sword with both hands.

"Two."

He placed the blade at his side, extending it diagonally behind him. In a diagonal upward slash stance, he focused his gaze on the spot one finger-width in front of Paul's neck, concentrating and calming his mind.

"Sss…"

As Paul made a friction sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Allen's pupils contracted to pinpricks!

At this instant, the light and shadows surrounding the courtyard in his vision rapidly converged, transforming into wispy mist. The drifting trajectories of leaves gradually vanished into the haze, the sound of the wind escaped into the void between the mists, and Paul's burning gaze disappeared into the dust.

And then.

Threads of dust vanished into the silent darkness. The only light remained on Paul's neck.

Following closely, the darkness rippled; it was Paul's voice reverberating.

At the same time, Allen heard his own inner voice.

It was very distant…

…I see…

But clear enough!

I cut!!

The next moment! The environment emerged from the darkness, the world was re-dyed with vibrant colors, and Zenith and Lilia's exclamations burst from the second floor.

Allen blinked. The light in the darkness just now seemed like a dream, an illusion, a momentary daze that came with a blink, a sudden, baseless hallucination.

He instinctively, blankly, looked up again at the spot one finger-width in front of Paul's neck.

A sword hung there, vibrating incessantly, so clear it seemed almost within reach.

No, not almost.

The sword was right before his eyes.

Allen followed the blade downwards, to the end, where his own hand gripped the hilt tightly.

It wasn't an illusion.

He looked at Paul in surprise, who then broke into a wide smile, flicked the thin blade tip with his finger, pulled Allen into a hug, and punched him hard in the chest.

"Excellent! Excellent! This is the Sword God Style! Remember this feeling! This is the feeling of 'slashing'! This is the Soundless Katana!"

Just then, Sylphy's slightly hesitant voice came from the courtyard entrance.

"Um, Rudy is ready, Allen. Shall we go?"

Allen turned to the source of the voice. Sylphy was blinking, staring intently at him.

The wind blew through her green hair, which had grown longer than two months ago, now reaching her chin.

And her expression wasn't as timid and shy as it had been two months ago. She simply watched Allen quietly, an inquiring look in her reddish-brown eyes.

Allen blinked, then felt a force from behind him. Paul pushed him, causing him to stumble. He regained his balance and looked back.

Paul smiled, reaching up to rub his neck and turn his head.

"Go! Be careful, be very careful! When you're fighting for real, don't put the blade this close like you did just now. Rudy's body isn't reinforced by Fighting Spirit."

Allen turned and nodded.

"Okay! I understand! We agreed that if I get within one meter, I win."

A relieved sigh, a little too obvious, came from upstairs. It was Zenith.

Allen looked up at Zenith, waving the katana in his hand.

"Don't worry, ma'am, I'll sheathe my sword within a meter! I won't hurt him. You should be more worried about me getting blown away by one of his fireballs, alright!"

Zenith covered her mouth and chuckled, waving goodbye to him.

Allen waved back, smiled and nodded at Paul, then turned and left the courtyard with Sylphy.

After Allen had gone, Paul's expression suddenly turned grim. He lowered the hand that had been touching his neck, revealing a red mark there, with faint specks of blood visible on it.

Such strong Fighting Spirit quality, it almost broke through my own Fighting Spirit… Is this really the level of Fighting Spirit a nine-year-old should have? And to think he grasped the trick to the Soundless Katana so quickly…

He watched Allen in the distance, stroking Sylphy's head, and the latter's slightly stiff back. A genuine smile bloomed on his face once more.

Philip, you truly raised an extraordinary genius… I wonder when you two will finally recognize each other?

When Allen arrived at the usual training spot, the hillside, Rudy was standing at the base of the hill, arms crossed, watching him, his eyes shimmering with confidence.

Even though the tall grass almost reached his waist.

Allen chuckled at his stance.

"Ready?"

"This time, I'll definitely give you a surprise."

Allen turned to Sylphy.

"You can wait for us at the top of the hill."

Sylphy blinked, looking hesitant, then looked at Rudy.

"Um… you two be careful, okay? Don't go too far."

Allen was a little surprised. Sylphy's implied meaning was that Rudy was the one with the advantage. He couldn't help but feel curious.

By the time Sylphy walked up the hill and leaned against a tree, Rudy and Allen had already put a hundred meters between them.

Seeing that they were in position, Sylphy nodded.

Her soft voice was carried down the hillside by the gentle breeze.

"Begin!"