Reborn in Mushoku Tensei

I stepped into the backyard, my body trembling. It was eerily quiet too quiet. I half-expected someone to be waiting in the shadows, but instead, my eyes landed on a beautiful garden. Flowers of all colors swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrance mixing with the crisp morning air. A small table sat in the middle, adorned with a delicate tea set. Sitting there, sipping from a porcelain cup, was an old woman.

I froze. My blood ran cold. I knew exactly who she was.

"Boy, hurry up and get over here," her sharp voice cut through the silence. "An old lady like me doesn't have all day."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself forward probably the fastest I'd ever walked in my life. When I finally stood before her, she lowered her cup and studied me. Her face was a mask of permanent disdain, her gaze cutting through me like a blade.

"When does training start?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She scoffed, unimpressed. "I've seen what you can do. And what you almost did to my granddaughter." Her expression darkened. "I should've killed you right then and there, brat."

I gulped. The memory of my earlier actions resurfaced, making my stomach twist.

"But," she continued, tilting her head slightly, "for someone so young, you're strong. And I see potential in your Water God style." A smirk ghosted her lips. "So I'll mold you into something worthwhile."

She stood up in one fluid motion and tossed me a practice sword. I barely caught it, fumbling in my nervous grip.

"No Sword God techniques. Purely Water God."

My hands trembled as I adjusted my hold. My mind was already racing with fears of what she'd do to me.

She grabbed her own practice sword but didn't move. Just stood there, silent, watching me.

"Brat," she said finally, her voice sharp and unforgiving. "Let go of your fear. It'll only slow you down. A strike made with hesitation isn't a strike at all. If you don't put your full intent behind it, you're not attacking you're just throwing a stick around."

I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. She was right. How could I expect to land a hit if I was too afraid to strike?

I exhaled, opening my eyes—

She was gone.

Panic shot through me. Then, a sudden presence to my left.

I spun, raising my sword just in time to block. The impact rattled my arm, forcing me to stumble back.

"What the hell—?!"

She smirked. And then she disappeared again.

Another presence this time from above. I barely managed to brace myself before she came down like a hammer, forcing me to hold my sword with both hands just to absorb the force. I shoved upward and leapt back, creating space between us.

She hummed, unimpressed. "Your senses aren't too dull, brat."

I barely had time to breathe before she closed the distance. My grip tightened.

"That was just a test," she said, raising her sword. "Now for the warmup. Deflect every strike."

Then she lunged.

I barely kept up. Her blade moved like a blur, and all I could do was react blocking and blocking and blocking. Time lost meaning. My arms screamed in protest, my muscles giving out, my grip weakening. But she didn't stop. I couldn't even count how many times I'd been hit, only that I managed to block fewer and fewer as time went on.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, she stepped back. I collapsed onto the ground, my breath ragged.

She snickered. "Get up, brat. That was only thirty minutes."

I stared at her in disbelief. Thirty minutes? It felt like hours.

"That was just the warmup," she added. "You've got five minutes to pull yourself together."

She walked away, and I let out a tearful, exhausted laugh. Five minutes. I spent them lying flat on the ground, slipping into unconsciousness

Until a sharp crack against my ribs snapped me awake.

"You'd be dead if I were an enemy," she sneered.

I groaned, rolling over. She really enjoyed torturing me, didn't she?

"Alright, brat," she said, lifting her sword. "Close your eyes. Block my attacks."

I blinked. "…You're joking."

She scowled. "Did those hits mess up your brain? Why else would I have you do this?"

When she puts it like that…

I sighed and shut my eyes—

Pain exploded in my side.

I gasped. That hit was fast. Was she putting her all into it?

Then, suddenly, I sensed another strike slower this time, so slow I could actually react. I dodged easily.

This made no sense.

The next strike came. Fast again. I barely blocked it, the sheer force sending me stumbling back.

I gritted my teeth. I get it now.

She was making me use flow. That last attack was too strong to fully block, so I should've redirected the momentum, dispersing the force instead of taking it head-on.

But the slow ones…

Another sluggish strike. This time, I used flow, redirecting it upwards, leaving her midsection open my chance!

I swung—

And was instantly slammed into the ground.

I gasped, eyes snapping open.

She grinned down at me, amused. "See, brat? You fell for a feint."

I groaned, piecing together what just happened. Feints didn't extend like that…

She caught my confusion and chuckled. "It's a special technique North God users use against inexperienced Water God practitioners. A slow attack to bait your flow, then" she lifted a finger, "either a burst of speed or an attack with their off-hand. Since the feint lacks full commitment, it leaves room for an immediate follow-up."

I blinked. I've never read about this in the book. Never seen it in action either.

Little stuff like this is something you won't get in the novel this world is really immersive. A sword strike was thrown at me. I jumped out the way. "Stop spacing out in front of me."

This is genuine hell.

A/N: this is just a small chapter to show the training he is doing nothing too important next chapter will be more important.