A month and a half passed.

  My sole focus was on becoming an “Expert” in the Heavenly style. I didn’t stop practicing the Warring style, but I didn’t spend nearly as much time on it as I did before.

  A ball of water splashed against my sword and rained over me, drenching my clothes and hair even more than they already were.

  Another failure. I thought as I once again failed to cut through the spell.

  “As fun as this used to be, it’s getting old,” complained Jessie. She sat in a chair facing me, her hand lazily stretched over the back of it as she pointed at me. “Get better already.”

  “Shut up,” I grumbled. My hair was spun tight into a top bun to hide my horns even with the onslaught of water. “It’s hard.”

  “It is. Took me a few months to figure out, and I’m good,” said Barcus. He leaned against the left side of Jessie’s chair. His gaze was focused entirely on the sky. “Just keep practicing.”

  “I kind of want to get it done before you all leave,” I whined. “Possibly sooner so I can gloat.”

  “I believe it’s definitely better to aim for excellence and stumble along the way than to settle for mediocrity right off the bat,” Barcus reflected with a hint of humor. “Well done, you little over-achiever! You’re such a dedicated little nugget, aren’t you?”

  “I am so glad you two feel comfortable mocking me now. I love that.”

  “And we love you,” chimed Jessie. She lifted her hand, and a water ball formed in her palm. “More?”

  “No.” I relaxed my sword from a ready position. “I’m wet enough as is.”

  Barcus gave Jessie a knowing glance and a pervy smile. She shoved his shoulder and whispered he was ‘gross’ while I stared at them, annoyed.

  What are they to each other?

  “Don’t let yourself get down,” said Barcus as he focused his attention wholly on me. “I know how your mind works now, and becoming an Expert in any of the styles takes a lot of dedication. You’ll get it eventually. I have no doubt.”

  “How does my mind work, exactly?” I wrung out the corner of my shirt. “I’m curious. Summarize everything about me in ten words or less.”

  “Rigid and unadventurous but very smart. A living textbook,” said Barcus with a wry smile. “Good?”

  I pouted. “Mean.”

  “Being overly serious is better than not giving a shit,” he said. “Just try to live a little and have more fun.”

  “Agreed,” added Jessie since she’d basically told me that same thing dozens of times now. “Try to live your life more open and free.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Try to sleep in your own bed,” I retorted.

  “Yikes. Someone seems to think words can hurt me,” uttered Jessie. She still held the ball of water in her hand. Jessie reeled and tossed it in my direction, splattering the side of my head. “Whoops. My bad.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I dry off quick.” Flames wrapped around my hands and snaked up my arms. With loose strands of hair falling past my temples, I craned my neck at Jessie. “How about a hug?”

  “How about another bath?” Jessie’s palms became engulfed in water. They bubbled around her hands to the size of pillows as she lifted them into a cocky posture. “You look like you need one.”

  “I’m gonna go.” Barcus stood and began walking away quickly. “There’s two of them now,” I heard him mutter as Jessie and I prepared to face off. “Just what the world needs.”

  Jessie and I held a little mock battle using only ranged mana before we separated. We teased each other a lot. I saw Jessie as an older sister rather than a teacher. She likely felt the same to some degree.

  In the past month, I’d become more comfortable swinging a sword and using mana. I felt confident switching between external mana and internal mana in a fight—classifying me as either an Externalist or Internalist depending on the scenario. Jessie hated it because she preferred specialization, as she had said many times before, but she also admitted that most people were and that I was a “huge exception to her rule,” so she let it slide.

  While I wasn’t capable of massive feats of mana, I never got tired when using my power. In time, my mana pathways and core would widen to hold and use more at once. That would be far in the future, though. It was one thing I couldn’t force out with raw talent.

  I spent much time honing my martial arts and Internalist skills, which improved my reaction speed. Barcus noted that early sword users were weak and unaware of their limitations, as is often the case with new things. With significant practice, they could identify flaws from repeated losses, failures, and gradual successes. Eventually, they learned to defend and retaliate with ease, though it required time, thought, passion, and consistency. True mastery emerged when swinging and defending became instinctive reactions.

  I was still learning. While Barcus did tell me I was ahead of where I should have been at my age, it didn’t make me better than Nigel—a pure prodigy with more practical experience.

  It helped that I “remembered” how to use a sword. Slowly, my body was following through with my thoughts at a more decisive pace. Still, I expected it would take a few more years before I could unify my thoughts and reactions the way I wanted.

  I fought with Nigel whenever I could. He was now more wary of me, having experienced my Heavenly style firsthand. He was still a more gifted fighter, but he was cautious compared to our earlier fights. Still, his treating me like a threat made me feel a hell of a lot better than when he thrashed me every session.

  Eventually, both Nigel and I got to the point where Bydon entered into our training. He’d use the Chaos style at a low level to give us a taste of how it worked. Even with a handicap going against two people, he’d beat us every time.

  Bydon’s blows were strong. I took a muted version of one of his strikes with my weapon once, and it sent me flying far enough away that a house could have been built in the gap between us.

  The only person who never helped us train at any point was Tart. She went out on jobs with the group but didn’t interact with anyone outside of work besides Bydon.

  Barcus told me it was because, unlike everyone else in the group, she had joined last and had previously lived on the Devil Continent. He assured me it was why she was so distant and awkward. I took Barcus at his word, but it was hard not to take her antic personally.

  Jessie’s hair was singed and my clothes were see-through by the end of our little sparring session. We headed into town laughing when I noticed Tart out of the corner of my eye.

  Smiling, I waved to her. “Heya!”

  Tart merely glanced my way, huffed, and walked elsewhere without a response.

  I stared after her awkwardly.

  “Don’t worry, she hates everyone,” said Jessie. “Terrible personality, but dependable when it matters.”

  “I want to talk to her about her life,” I muttered. “Compare. Learn. From first-hand experience.”

  “You can keep trying, but don’t get your hopes up. She only really listens to Bydon and Barcus. Maybe you’ll wear her down eventually.”

  “Eventually,” I agreed. “She can count on it.”