Half an hour later, Gion clutched her sword hilt with both trembling hands, panting heavily.
"I can't go on. Whew... Vice Admiral Randall, whew... you're too tough."
She hadn't rested for even a moment during that half hour.
Yet Randall hadn't lost so much as a hair.
Meanwhile, sweat dripped from her long hair, and her hands shook so badly she could barely hold her sword.
Gion looked at Randall in frustration, a wry smile lingering on her face.
She was supposed to be the one attacking...
Randall innocently spread his hands.
"Isn't my toughness the whole reason you need me?"
"Well, you're not wrong..."
Gion scratched her cheek sheepishly.
She'd just been entertaining a few unrealistic hopes earlier.
She'd thought that, with her strength, she might actually manage to hurt Randall.
After all, the swordsmanship she practiced focused on killing.
Now it seemed she'd been far too naive.
Randall pondered for a moment, then said:
"Come to think of it, Gion, you've hit a bottleneck, haven't you?"
Gion gave Randall a surprised look, then readily admitted it.
"That's right. It's been a while now.
I even feel like I'm getting weaker rather than stronger."
She spoke with a bitter smile.
Although this was his first time meeting Gion,
he already had a favorable impression of her.
It felt almost like looking at a female version of himself.
So he figured he ought to help if he could.
Randall didn't know much about swordsmanship.
But he could draw on the experiences of those who came before him.
After a moment's thought, he said:
"Gion, I don't understand swordsmanship.
But as the saying goes, stones from another mountain can polish your jade.
Perhaps an outsider's perspective might give you some inspiration."
Hearing this, Momousagi looked at Randall with interest.
"Please, go