A gentle breeze blew, bringing waves of cool air. Surrounded by the sea on three sides, Gilneas had milder summers and winters than inland regions. Some time had passed since Rex began training under Rachel. Meetings in the palace hall were held once a week in Gilneas, and barring any major events, that schedule generally remained unchanged.
With a heavy sword in his hands, Rex delivered one downward slash after another. He was practicing the chopping stroke from basic swordsmanship. Basic swordsmanship was the foundation of every sword style; all other styles developed from it. Rex wanted to overpower finesse with sheer strength, and Rachel's advice was to practice these fundamentals diligently. Rex had already recognized this, though not through any insight of his own. A television drama about a one-armed swordsman from his previous life had shown him what to do.
Rachel watched him with approval, for this was the path best suited to Rex. With his extraordinary natural strength, practicing swift swordplay and elaborate techniques would have been a sheer waste of his talent.
"Rex, your chopping stroke still isn't quite right. I'll demonstrate it again." Watching Rex's stance, Rachel picked up a longsword and spoke.
Rachel and Rex belonged to different classes, so Rachel could offer little help with Rex's cultivation of the Holy Light. This was not a matter of ability, but a limitation imposed by their classes. Different fields were worlds apart, and that described Rachel's current situation perfectly. Rachel could not guide Rex in the Holy Light, but other aspects, such as the subtleties of applying power, had much in common. Whether rage or the Holy Light, both could be regarded as forms of power. They differed in the details, but their underlying principles were much the same.
Standing before Rex, Rachel raised the