Mushoku Impact

After showing Paul to a small room that was only 3x5m wide, including the closet, Jordan explained, "This is the boys' dormitory. Girls sleep on the opposite side of the Sanctum. You're allowed to visit there, but only during the day. If you end up bringing a girl back to your room, you both need to be up by sunrise for the morning lessons."
Surprised by Jordan's words, Paul asked, "The Sword Sanctum allows cohabitation? I would have thought they would see it as a detriment to a person's progress..."
As he had also been surprised when he first came to the Sword Sanctum, Jordan nodded his head in understanding. Then, after clapping Paul on the shoulder, he explained, "Master Farion is a lot more progressive than the Sword God before him. Ever since he accepted one as a disciple, he has permitted members of the Beast Race to study and train here. Since they go into heat and get aggressive during the Fall, he has consented to allow people to have sex so long as they train twice as hard the following day."
Unable to help himself, a wolfish grin developed across Paul's face as he offered a curt, "Nice." He didn't know if it was because of his bloodline or because he had been surrounded by budding beauties his entire life, but Paul's sex drive was quickly becoming one of his defining features. Reida being a God-Tier MILF just exacerbated the issue.
Seeing a kindred spirit in Paul, Jordan gave him another friendly clap on the shoulder before offering a bit of friendly advice, specifically, "Just be mindful of the Sword God's apprentice. Nearly every guy in the Sanctum had tried to court her, but the end result is always the same. They end up seriously injured and placed on bed rest. If they fail to recover within two months, they're expelled from the Sanctum..."
"Sounds about right..."
Though he had yet to meet Ghislaine, Paul knew there had to be a reason she was still a virgin by the time she met his original self. It didn't make a lot of sense for a member of the Beast Race to preserve their chastity, so the most likely reason was that Ghislaine would only sleep with someone she respected, i.e., someone who was strong...
Guided by Jordan, Paul was given a tour of the laundry room, bath, and latrine pit before being shown to a rather unexpected place, the Library.
"This place is pretty cool. Since the Sword Sanctum is affiliated with the Silver Palace, we constantly receive updates on persons of interest and dangerous monsters that need to be slain. Do you want to take a look? I didn't expect anything when I came by, but there were actually a couple of pages about my family and past exploits. It's a little uncanny but also pretty cool."
Though he would assuredly check it out later, Paul shook his head and said, "Maybe some other time. I haven't really accomplished anything just yet, so it would probably just be a few pages about my family and education. Nothing of value at present."
Shrugging his shoulders, Jordan said, "Suit yourself." before guiding Paul out of the Library and adding, "The next place is one of the three Sacred Grounds of the Sword Sanctum. It's where we pay respects to the Sword God, periodically receive his teaching, and demonstrate our abilities...you should be prepared, Paul. The first night at the Sword Sanctum is known as the Crucible of Swords...if you can't defeat at least five people during your preliminary evaluation, you'll be placed on latrine duty until you can defeat ten..."
While others would be mortified by the mere thought of having to empty a latrine of frozen piss and shit, Paul surprised Jordan by asking, "What's your proficiency with the sword? What's your Rank....?"
Though he understood the reason for Paul's question, Jordan showed no signs of fear or hesitation as he returned a wolfish smile and said, "I'm an Intermediate Swordsman, but I can hold my own even against Advanced practitioners. What about you, Paul? I would have assumed you were a Beginner by your age, but you wouldn't have made it this far if that was the case."
As even fully grown Knights were typically only at the Intermediate Rank, Jordan was more than a little surprised when Paul revealed, "I've been at the Advanced Rank of the Water God Style for around a year. The reason I came to the Sword Sanctum is because everyone keeps telling me I'm a better fit for the Sword God Style."
"Are you for real? You know it won't do you any good to lie, right? I mean, you're about to have to demonstrate your skills in front of the Sword God himself..."
Adopting an ostensibly fearless smile, Paul asked, "Isn't that kind of the point of coming to the Sword Sanctum?"
"..."
Realizing he was dealing with another monster, Jordan just gave Paul a firm pat on the back before suggesting, "Then let's get a move on. The others, including Master Farion, are waiting in the Exhibition Hall. Oh, and just so you know, if you had dawdled for too long in the Library, your final opponent during the evaluation would have been a Sword King. It's good that you understand the true reason for your stay at the Sanctum..."
Though he was a little surprised by Jordan's words, Paul just nodded his head in approval, saying, "That's one way to teach people humility..."
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Like the rest of the Sword Sanctum, the Exhibition Hall had a distinctly Japanese structure. The floors and walls were constructed from wood, and the windows were covered in thick white paper instead of glass. As for furnishings, the only thing that would even remotely qualify was the small wooden platform at the back of the hall. Everyone was seated on the floor, the only exception being the fierce-looking man with blue and black-haired sitting atop the slightly elevated platform at the back.
Though he felt every nerve and muscle in his body tense when the man's cold blue eyes locked on him, Paul didn't recoil. He had long since gotten used to killing intent during his training with Ei, Augusta, and Reida. After all, if he became paralyzed with fear every time a powerful adversary so much as locked eyes with him, he wouldn't make it very far in the outside world.
With short, untamed blue hair that became progressively darker along the sides, fierce blue eyes, a small goatee, and a rather wicked-looking scar running across his left cheek, Sword God Gal Farion was the type of man that inspired fear and respect with a single glance. One of the very first tests prospective students had to overcome was simply looking him in the eyes, a seemingly simple feat that resulted in most collapsing and outright pissing themselves.
Seeing Paul become even more resolute in the face of his killing intent, a vicious smile developed across Gal's face as he startled nearly the entire hall by stating, "Not bad." in a curt tone.&nbsp;
Resisting the almost instinctual urge to bow, Paul emulated Jordan's and Linus's greeting by cupping his hands together and saying, "I still have a long way to go." with a severe expression and a fair amount of conviction in his tone.
Surprising the hall a second time, Gal said, "And you shall." before rising to his feet and calling out, "Ahuja, you're up first. Our little friend here is the protege of the Water God, so don't hold anything back."
Though he was tempted to say he wasn't Reida's protege, Paul instead focused his attention on a girl with green eyes and blonde hair fashioned into a sort of pixie cut. He didn't know exactly what Rank she was at, but the intent exuding from her was enough to make the hairs on Paul's arms and neck stand on end.&nbsp;
Fortunately, Paul wasn't left guessing as the girl cupped her hands together, glaring at him as she growled, "Ahuja, 14-years-old, Advanced Rank Sword God Swordsman."
Eliciting a few murmurs from the seventy or so students gathered, Paul cupped his hands together, emulating Ahuja's introduction as he stated, "Paul, 10-years-old, Advanced Rank Water God Swordsman."
Though the pupils of her green eyes briefly contracted, Ahuja wasted no time in procuring one of the wooden swords lined up along the wall. Like many practitioners of the Sword God Style, the sword she selected was short and shaped similar to a fang. The core principle of the Sword God Style was speed and defeating your opponent in the shortest amount of time, so their weapons were made to be exceptionally easy to draw.
Due to his training in the Water God Style, Paul was far more proficient with longswords and claymores than shortswords and cutlasses. Thus, despite having many smaller options, he opted for a sword whose blade was nearly as wide as his palm. It was much heavier than Ahuja's sword, but it also packed greater power.
Seeing Paul's choice, Gal was equal parts excited and disappointed. He would have preferred if Paul set aside the Water God Style and focused on the Sword God Style. At the same time, however, he had been trying to get Reida to let him borrow a few skilled Water God users so he could give his students experience circumventing their guards. The Water God Style was considered the 'counter' to the Sword God Style, and while he was confident he would never lose to Reida, Gal knew his students were nowhere near the same level. Against a similarly skilled Water God user, they were bound to experience some frustration.
To give Ahuja a chance, Gal surprised the room by stating, "The match is decided when the opponent submits or is unable to continue. If you lose your swords, you can just beat the shit out of each other. Now, begin...!"
Immediately following Gal's words, Ahuja grabbed her sword in a reverse grip and lowered her center of gravity to the point the fingers of her left hand touched the ground. Then, with an explosive force that caused two tiny shockwaves near her feet, she lunged toward Paul with the intent to smack him in the abdomen.
Unfortunately for Ahuja, she had no real experience fighting against the Water God Style. The moment she lunged forward, Paul stepped forward at the same time. Instead of attempting to meet her charge, however, he aimed to pass on the left side of her body. She was holding her sword in a reverse grip with her right hand, so even if she twisted her body and swung in a full arc, it would be difficult to strike on opponent on the left side of her body.
Demonstrating he wasn't simply proficient in the Water God Style, Paul didn't try to slice across Ahuja's body or disarm her. Instead, he raised his left arm just as their paths were about to cross, his bicep connecting with her neck with enough force to send her reeling back like someone that had biked into a clothesline.
Remembering the conditions Gal had set, Paul only hesitated for a brief moment before stepping in to smack Ahuja's wrists the moment she tried to roll over and bound to her feet.&nbsp;
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah-!"
Not expecting Paul to shatter her wrists, Ahuja screamed out due to the intense pain. Paul immediately felt a little guilty about what he had done, but that didn't stop him from setting the tip of his wooden sword against her throat and saying, "Yield." in an authoritative tone.
Instead of complying with Paul's words, Ahuja's teary-eyed expression became indignant as she attempted to lunge past his sword and tackle him to the ground. Unfortunately, Paul had once again seen through her actions, so the moment she shifted her weight, he was already stepping backward. As a result, she was left completely vulnerable as he smacked the top of her head with the flat of his blade...
"Round one goes to the Water God brat. Someone drag Ahuja off to the side and make sure she doesn't have brain damage. Andrews, you're up next."
Before a distinctly eastern-looking youth with long bangs and black hair tied up into a long ponytail could rise to face him, Paul surprised nearly everyone present by using chantless Healing Magic on Ahuja. Gal didn't seem particularly enthused by this, but as there were no rules against it, he just adopted a wolfish grin and said, "Don't regret it if you use up all your stamina and have your ass handed to you..."
Earning stunned silence from his fellow students and a knee-clapping laugh from the rather fierce-looking Sword God, Paul adopted what he hoped to be a relaxed smile as he asserted, "Trust me, when it comes to stamina, I am rarely lacking..."
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Since he had been at the 'pinnacle' of the Advanced Rank for quite some time, Paul had no trouble besting four opponents in quick succession. One of the biggest weaknesses of traditionally trained Swordsmen, even those who ventured all the way to the Sword Sanctum, was their general lack of experience. They were too used to executing their techniques under ideal conditions, and though sparring was commonplace, they customarily held back to avoid injury.
With people like Ei, Jean, Augusta, and Reida teaching him to 'never' hold back, Paul was a monster that defied the 'common sense' of Swordsmen who had spent much of their life inside a dojo. He also had actual combat experience and people and monsters, experiences that had ended in the deaths of more than twenty people.
In the original series, Eris was able to trounce even the Saints within the Sword Sanctum using nothing more than her fists. She had only been at the Advanced Rank of the Sword God Style at the time, but thanks to the experiences she had accumulated fighting to survive for three years, she was able to soundly defeat even the Saint Ranked daughter of the Sword God, Nina Farion. Adding insult to injury, it only took a single punch.
Though he didn't believe he was anywhere near the level of Eris at the time of her arrival at the Sword Sanctum, Paul had become increasingly confident in his abilities. Reida hadn't actually taught him too much, but the act of plowing her for more than five months had given Paul a pretty massive confidence boost. It had also improved his Mana capacity quite a bit, so much so that Paul was pretty sure he could fodder the version of himself from six months prior.
"Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. Win one more, and I'll grant you the right to refer to yourself as a Saint from that moment onward."
Hearing what their Master said, nearly every student present drew in a sharp breath. They had all clearly heard Paul introduce himself as a 10-year-old. If he attained the title of Sword Saint at such a tender age, that would make him the youngest in history.
Surprising the group even more, Paul shook his head and said, "That isn't for you to decide."
Though he had a massive grin on his face, Gal asked, "Who the hell do you think you're talking back to, brat...? I am the Sword God, Gal Farion, Ranked Sixth of the Seven Great Powers. Do you think Reida has greater authority than me when it comes to deciding Ranks?"
Shaking his head a second time, Paul did his best to quell the not-so-subtle trembling of his body as he carefully replied, "The most important thing is how we view ourselves...until I can master Touki and reach Saint Rank in the Sword God Style, it would be arrogant to refer to myself as a Saint..."
"Hmmm..."
Retracting his bloodlust, Gal eased back into a more comfortable posture as he said, "Hear that, you little glory hunters? This brat's only ten years old, yet he has things figured out better than the lot of you. Rank, status, fame, wealth, men, women...unless you possess 'real' power, such things are completely meaningless..."
Without giving his words time to settle, Gal directed his gaze towards the young woman with cat ears, a tail, and a veritable mane of spiky grey hair as he said, "You're up, Ghislaine. If you lose, you'll have to skip breakfast and tomorrow's lunch."
Though she had previously been watching the spars with a bored look on her face, a fierce glimmer flashed across Ghislaine's red eyes when she heard Gal's words. There was no way in hell she was going to go without one meal, much less two, so she immediately lurched forward on all fours before the match had even begun.
"Holy shit...!"
Underestimating just how fast Ghislaine was, Paul barely managed to sidestep and pirouette out of range of her claws. She was only a Sword Saint at the present moment, but her status as a member of the Dedoldia Tribe, descendants of the Beast God, provided her with super strength, speed, agility, senses, and reaction speed.
Despite missing her initial lunge, Ghislaine arrested her momentum with her hands before pushing herself toward Paul. She didn't even bother to go to the side of the hall to retrieve a weapon. Instead, she smashed her fist in the flat of Paul's blade, shattering it as she shouted, "I'm not going hungry...!" in a defiant tone.
With Ghislaine shattering his weapon, most of the students believed Paul was out of his fight. Instead, surprising even Ghislaine, he rolled onto his back in timing with her lunge, his feet compressing against her abdomen before kicking with enough force to send her, upside down, towards one of the hall's pillars.
While most people would have crashed into the pillar, suffering broken bones in the process, Ghislaine demonstrated a degree of flexibility and spatial awareness comparable to an actual cat as she effortlessly flipped over and impacted the pillar on her hands and feet. Then, like a bronze-skinned bullet, she launched herself towards Paul with fangs and claws bared.
Though he had promptly rolled back to his feet after sending Ghislaine flying, Paul barely managed to turn around by the time she tackled him. Fortunately, even though she was able to mount him, the only thing she knew how to do was punch, claw, and tear. These would have been very effective under normal circumstances, but Ghislaine had been prohibited from maiming, biting the throats, or gouging out the eyes of her fellow students. In other words, all she could do was use her ludicrous strength to try and beat Paul into submission.
Catching Ghislaine by surprise, Paul bucked his hips at the exact moment she attempted to smash his face in. The momentum of her attack carried her forward, while at the same time, Paul shamelessly cupped his hands under Ghislaine's already sizeable breasts to push her up and away from him. She managed to hold onto him with her legs, but that was what Paul had been aiming for.
Wrapping his arms around Ghislaine's legs and bottom, Paul attempted to prevent her from correcting her posture. The moment she tried, he raised his hips and back like an arch. The movement nearly caused Ghislaine to smash face-first into the ground, so she was forced to catch herself with her hands.&nbsp;
Thinking he could drop his hips and force Ghislaine onto her back when she attempted to fix her posture, Paul was more than a little surprised when she prevented him from doing so by locking her legs around him like a vice. Then, despite the action causing her forehead to impact the floor, she stopped holding herself in order to choke him.
Feeling like a vice had just locked around his neck, an instinctual panic set into Paul as he grabbed Ghislaine's tail and pulled. Hard.
"You...!"
Unfortunately for Paul, while the tails of the Beast Race were incredibly sensitive, it was one of the first things Ghislaine trained to overcome. It still hurt like hell, but the only thing he accomplished by pulling her tail was making her very, very angry.
Releasing Paul's neck, Ghislaine grabbed his hair and yanked him from between her legs in a single violent motion. The action literally forced him to stand up before she reared back with a resolution expression on her face.&nbsp;
In a desperate attempt to prevent his face from getting smashed in, Paul jammed his thumbs into Ghislaine's armpits to hinder her movement. This helped him avoid a headbutt to the face and nose, but Ghislaine still had a death grip on his head. The moment he blocked her headbutt, an even more violent expression developed across her face as she began shaking his head like a Magic 8-ball. When she did, an overwhelming feeling of vertigo seized him as the notion he could literally feel his brain moving gripped Paul's chaotic mind. Then, as if to spite him for stopping her the first time, Ghislaine reared back her head and landed a headbutt directly to his nose...
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Unaware of how much time had passed, Paul awoke feeling intense pain throughout his face and head. His eyes were so swollen that he couldn't even open them, and, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't breathe through his nose. Inhaling caused extreme pain, while exhaling caused a combination of snot and blood to froth from his nearly flattened nostrils.
("That damned brute...")
Though he was in extreme pain, the thing that upset Paul the most was that most of his front teeth were missing. His Intermediate Healing could mend his face, but regrowing teeth required Shine-Healing, an Advanced Rank Spell.
"You still with us, kid...?"
Before responding to the voice of Gal, Paul raised his hands to his face and used chantless Healing to reduce the swelling of his eyes and fix his nose. When he was finished, he looked towards the roguish-looking man before immediately shifting his gaze to the grey-haired cat girl drooping her head at his side.
Adopting an amused smile, Gal asked, "Holding a grudge...?"
To Gal's surprise, Paul immediately shook his head before lisping, "Noh. If fwis had bween a weal fwigh, I would bwe dwead."
Nodding his head in approval, Gal said, "Good mentality." before abruptly smacking Ghislaine in the back of the head and asking, "See what kind of person you nearly crippled? Seriously, what was going through that head of yours when you went all out on a freakin' kid...?"
Hanging her head and ears, Ghislaine responded with a faint, "Sorry..." before meeting Paul's gaze and adding, "But he's strong..."
Exhaling a sigh and rubbing his forehead, Gal seemed to be considering something before dropping his hand and muttering, "Whatever..." before asking, "Hey, kid, what do you think about becoming my apprentice? I'm at least a thousand times stronger than that Water God vixen."
Since he knew Gal would probably have him train with Ghislaine even if he refused, Paul didn't hesitate before shaking his head. Fortunately, Gal had been anticipating this since it wasn't exactly a secret that Paul had been 'buddy-buddy' with Reida during their travels. Keeping the guests in more than a hundred Inns awake throughout the night wasn't discreet.
Snorting through his nose, Gal snipped, "Brat..." before promptly turning around and making his way towards the exit. Before leaving, however, he half-turned to stare at Ghislaine, saying, "Stay with him. He's lost a lot of blood, so the least you can do is warm him up with your body. If he dies, I'm placing you on house arrest for a month."
Furrowing her brows, Ghislaine wanted to object but ultimately remained silent. Instead, it was Paul who forced himself to a seated position and said, "Noh. Ahm fwine. Leh her gwoh back."
Squinting his eyes, Gal challenged, "You sure? If you hadn't instinctually protected yourself with Touki, you'd be dead right now. Don't let her off just because she's a girl or has big tits. I know how the members of your family are..."
As much as he wanted to cuddle up with Ghislaine and have her care for him, Paul couldn't enter the IOF and have Barbara regrow his teeth if she was around. He doubted she would tell on him, but seeing him disappear through a door was bound to make her unnecessarily suspicious.
"I vwil bwe fwully hwealed bwy mornin."
Raising his brows, Gal was tempted to ask how, but, as he didn't really care, he just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Have it your way." before making his way out of the room. Ghislaine stayed back for a while longer, but as she had never really been that talkative, she just muttered one final, "Sorry..." before rising to her feet and departing the room...
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After waiting around for a few hours, Paul was relieved to see Lynette and Rosaria appear wearing thick winter clothes and rucksacks. They wouldn't be accompanying him to the Sword Sanctum, so he at least wanted to say thanks before they traveled East to the Ranoa Magic Academy.
"Hey, I just-"
"Thirty-eight days..."
Before Paul could finish thanking the two taciturn girls for shadowing him for nearly six months, Lynette promptly interjected, her expression equal parts pouty and judgmental as she appended, "That's the amount of time we could have saved if you weren't such a horndog..."
Blinking in surprise, Paul was tempted to ask what the petite cat girl was talking about, but he was well aware of what she meant. On average, he and Reida would go at it for around six hours a day. When the conditions outside were poor, making travel inconvenient, they wouldn't even bother to leave their room...
Scratching the back of his head, Paul attempted to excuse his actions by saying, "It helps me increase my Mana capacity..."
Snorting through her nose, Lynette left Paul feeling at a loss for words as she stepped forward to give him a hug. Before he could do the same, she separated from him and said, "Hurry up and summon my...sister..."
Though she was about to say brother, Lynette corrected herself at the last moment. As for Paul, his expression softened a bit as he recalled one of his few conversations with the charming yet aloof cat girl. She told him that if he managed to summon her sister, she would let him touch her tail and legs as much as he wanted. It was a strange thing to say, but as she gradually matured into a beautiful and supple woman, Paul had started to understand why she mentioned those particular aspects of her body. Her long, slender, and remarkably toned legs, often veiled in black tights, had become increasingly alluring...
Noticing Paul's eyes stray towards her currently covered legs, Lynette's black tail flicked like a whip as she said, "No..." in her characteristically apathetic tone.
Resisting the urge to say he wasn't going to do anything, Paul shifted his attention to the ever-stoic Rosaria and said, "Good luck on your journey. And thanks for keeping watch over me all this time. I mean it..."
Returning a cut nod, Rosaria stated, "Don't go getting yourself killed..." before grabbing the straps of her backpack, turning around, and adding, "See you around...Master..."
With nothing else to say, Rosaria shifted her attention to the sun lingering overhead before immediately setting off. Lynette eventually followed suit, but only after forcing Paul to pet her head for a full five minutes. Then, at the very end, she planted a small kiss on his cheek before running off as fast as her long and beautiful legs could carry her...
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Alone for the first time in what felt like years, Paul couldn't help feeling a little melancholic as he set his sights on the inhospitable wasteland that eventually transitioned into a seemingly endless stretch of snow and ice.
The Holy Land of the Sword was situated at the Nothwesternmost tip of the Central Continent. It was one of the most barren and isolated regions in the entire world, and, for those exact reasons, the First Generation Sword God had chosen it as the place for his home, the Sword Sanctum.
One of the first tests for people wishing to study at the Sword Sanctum was crossing nearly 600kms of barren wasteland and icy tundra without any rations. The only things you were supposed to eat were the monsters and creatures you hunted along the way. If you couldn't do at least that much, the current Sword God, Gal Farion, would either turn you away or cut you down.
Fortunately for Paul, one of the effects of his Dendro Vision was stamina regeneration. Ever since he had obtained it, he only needed to sleep for a few hours each night. More importantly, he could press forwards for days on end without any rest whosoever, so the 600kms wasn't as daunting to him as it was for others. Combine that with the fact he had recently shed around 55kgs of additional people and baggage, and Paul was feeling as light as a feather...
Smacking himself in his somewhat tender and frozen cheeks, Paul's expression became serious as he psyched himself up and said, "Let's fuckin' do this...!" in a resolute tone.
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Using a standing mirror that she had requisitioned from a local tailor, Reida's complexion became increasingly pale as she scrutinized her naked figure from numerous angles. The usually clear definition of her abdominal muscles had faded in the weeks since her separation from Paul, and, though it was very faint, she had the distinct impression her belly was beginning to inflate.
Though she had initially tried to convince herself she was imagining things, Reida had been waking up feeling a bit nauseous as of late. Her breasts had been feeling increasingly tender, and if she squeezed them hard enough, a bit of clear discharge would come out. These were some pretty tell-tale signs, so, even though she didn't want to admit it, Reida knew the truth; she was pregnant. There was also only a single person the child could belong to...
Exhaling a sigh, Reida carefully laid on her bed before staring up at the ceiling with a listless look on her face. Counting miscarriages, this was her tenth pregnancy, so she was pretty familiar with the symptoms. All the signs pointed to her being between three and four months pregnant. It had only been twenty-seven days since her separation from Paul, so she must have gotten pregnant somewhere around the halfway point of their journey. She just hadn't noticed it because she spent most of the day riding on Paul's back and nearly a quarter of it being gouged by his dick...
"That damn brat went and did it..."
Despite the relative harshness of her words, a faint smile marred Reida's face as she covered her eyes with her forearm. She didn't actually mind that Paul had knocked her up. If she did, she wouldn't have taught Paul a few 'tricks' that would increase the chances of conception when teaching him how to pleasure a woman properly.
Ever since her sudden and unexpected period, a small yet growing part of Reida had wanted Paul to impregnate her. Not just because he was so much more capable and kinder than the fathers of her other children, but because she would feel even guiltier about killing him if he was unable to leave a legacy behind.&nbsp;
Though there was a roughly 30% chance the child would die in her womb or during its first year of life, Reida believed in the potency of the Greyrat genes. Her greatest concern was finding a way to carry the child to term without too many people noticing. The simplest method was to disappear for a year or two, but then the King would ask her where she had been. If it became known she had given birth to Paul's son, the First Prince would either take it hostage or kill it outright.
While thinking of solutions, the image of Ningguang abruptly surfaced within Reida's mind. She had only met the peculiar white-haired girl a few times, but Reida would be lying if she said the otherwordly beauty didn't leave an impression.&nbsp;
Reida's intuition and senses were so sharp that she could detect even minute changes in a person's intent and emotional state. When she met with Ningguang, however, it was like observing the surface of a lake on a moonlight night. It was astonishingly calm and serene on the surface but impossible to see through...
While the First Prince and his faction were eager to either obtain or kill Zhongli, the person Reida viewed as the greatest threat was Ningguang. She couldn't be certain, but she suspected that Ningguang was the true mastermind behind the sudden and rather drastic changes in the Milbots Region. Her disappearance prior to the Royal Inquisition's arrival all but confirmed this.
Believing she could buy herself some time by reporting to the King that she was in pursuit of the 'perpetrator' of the suspected rebellion, Reida sat up and began penning a letter. She really was going to try and hunt down Ningguang, not to kill her, but to warn her to keep Paul away from the Asura Kingdom. As for her and Paul's child, she would try and leave it in the care of House Notos.&nbsp;
As far as Reida could tell, Paul and his parents were remarkably close. If they knew the child belonged to Paul, Reida was pretty sure they would take it in. If they refused, well, she would just have to think about that when the time came. If she were the type of woman to plan ahead, she wouldn't be carrying the child of someone thirty-seven years her junior...
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After nearly a month of walking, camping out in the wilderness, and hunting to survive, Paul found himself at the foot of a mountain that appeared to have had its upper half cleaved away. A set of stairs that could better be described as a ladder led up its side, but the thing that stood out the most, at least to Paul, was how distinctly Japanese the architecture was.
Like the stairs leading up to a Japanese Shrine, several large torii gates lined the path. There were even a few snow-covered statues resembling creatures like tanuki and foxes littered about, hidden among a forest of aromatic evergreen trees.&nbsp;
Further emphasizing the possibility that the first generation Sword God had been Isekai'd from Japan, a group of people wearing insulated black bodysuits and white gi approached the moment he reached the first step. One was a young man with a strange, mushroom-shaped hairstyle, while the other was an even younger woman with long black hair fastened into a loose ponytail.
Upon reaching Paul, the duo cupped their hands in a manner reminiscent of a Karateka as the young woman said, "Well met, brother. My name is Linus, and this is my good friend, Jordan. You've done well to make it this far at such a tender age. Come, we've been tasked with showing you the facilities and where you'll be staying."
Blinking in surprise, Paul asked, "You knew I was coming?"
Answering in place of his companion, the red-headed Jordan explained, "Our Master, the great Sword God Gal Farion, often ventures out into the Holy Land to observe prospective recruits. He returned a few hours ago and told us that a young boy would be arriving before sunset."
"Ah...I see..."
Though he was a little creeped out by the possibility Gal had been spying on him, it wasn't too difficult to believe. Given how long he and Reida had been traveling together, Paul imagined that someone had informed Gal of his arrival. The real question was whether or not Gal would give him crap for being a practitioner of the Water God Style...
After following the duo to a distinctly Japanese-style compound, Paul was asked to take off his shoes and turn over most of his equipment to a middle-aged woman wearing a black leather jacket with a thick fur lining. Paul recognized this as the jacket bestowed exclusively to Sword Kings, so he didn't even think to protest when she turned over his rucksack and confiscated his money. Such things were considered unnecessary within the Sword Sanctuary, so everything but his journal, a small portrait of his mother, and his Vision were confiscated.
Once most of his possessions had been stripped away, clothing included, Paul was issued three insulated bodysuits and a stack of seven gi. Within the Sword Sanctuary, only those Ranked Saint and higher had the right to wear apparel that distinguished themselves from others. Everyone else, regardless of their age or status in the outside world, was forced to wear the same outfit and live under the same conditions. If you wanted better conditions, you needed to prove yourself. Any attempts to curry favor or use your status to compel others would result in expulsion and, in many cases, death.
As annoying as these conditions sounded, Paul was looking forward to his time within the Sword Sanctum. He still needed to find a way to get Barbara and the others out, but they had already prepared themselves for the possibility he might not be able to. If that happened, he promised they would be the ones to accompany him on his journey to the Begaritt Continent. Until then, Paul's main focus was increasing his strength and reaching Sword Saint before the age of 15...the same age Gal Farion was when he became a Saint...
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Chapter 54: MI54: Evaluation