Re:Zero: No Job, No Magic, Just a Stupid Romance System

Lokishi blinked.

"…Then… then he can do magic?"

Rudy's serious expression suddenly relaxed upon hearing this, as if he had received a bit of comfort, and he chuckled.

"Fortunately, he knows nothing about magic. If Alan also had a talent for magic, wouldn't he force you, Lokishi, to be his teacher? That would be too dangerous for me!"

"Oh, so that's it."

Lokishi breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this, though she didn't understand what Rudy meant by "danger." She turned her head to look at the two people in the yard, a faint smile on her lips.

Rudy looked at Lokishi's demeanor and felt that something was off, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the problem.

Sylphy blinked beside them, secretly glancing at Lokishi before fluttering her eyelashes and shifting her gaze to Alan.

In the courtyard, Alan and Paul had finished warming up.

There was a distance of three meters between them. Compared to his relaxed stance when facing Rudy, Alan now stood in a battle-ready posture, facing Paul—a fellow swordsman.

He took a bow step, firmly grounding his legs, and placed the blade on his shoulder with both hands, the back of the blade close to his right shoulder.

Paul, holding his sword with ease, looked relaxed.

"Ready? Then I'm going to attack."

Alan took a deep breath. His pupils shrank, and the embryonic core of Dragon Saint Dou Qi in his abdomen compressed and surged into his body.

He could 'sense' the dust drifting in the air in front of him and smiled.

"Ready. Let's start."

As soon as he spoke, Paul's blade swept toward Alan's left shoulder—far outside the usual range of the blade!

Silent Tachi!

The next moment, they passed each other.

Paul staggered, turning his head in surprise.

Alan's legs had not moved.

He didn't even turn around. With his back to Paul, he simply changed the position of his sword slightly—from his right shoulder to holding the handle just above his left shoulder.

"Did you hit it in vain?!" Senis exclaimed.

Paul's face grew solemn. He answered the question for everyone.

"It didn't hit in vain."

He squinted at the handle of the knife resting above Alan's left shoulder, recalling the momentary feeling from his strike.

He had hit.

But it was ineffective.

Alan's response had been too just right.

"Just right" to alter the momentum.

"Just right" to bring the handle above his shoulder.

"Just right" to receive the tip of Paul's sword.

And "just right" to deflect it.

There were no wasted movements.

Just like a rock in a turbulent stream—solid and flawless.

Paul looked at Alan for a long moment.

"Don't you want to turn around?"

Alan still tilted his head, blade back on his right shoulder.

"No. This posture is enough to handle attacks from all directions… as long as I can sense them. I just happened to sense your Silent Sword. I was lucky."

Paul smiled.

"The ultimate perception combined with the Water God Style's flow secrets… If I were faster, could I cut you down before you sensed it?"

Alan smiled in return.

"You can try, sir."

Paul laughed, his voice drifting in the wind. In the next moment, he appeared beside Alan.

His sword was less than half a meter from Alan's forehead.

But Alan's hand moved with his body—the blade was already bent in front of his forehead.

Their eyes met briefly.

With a sharp clang, Alan deflected Paul's sword tip again—perfectly, with the Secret Flow technique.

Paul smiled.

He released the sword. The blade slipped from in front of Alan's eyes—a feint. At the same time, Paul's whip kick slammed toward Alan's chest!

He had abandoned the sword from the beginning. The stab was a ruse. The real attack was the lower-body whip kick!

But even so—Paul still failed.

Alan shifted his blade again. Just as Paul's kick was about to land, Alan brushed the kick aside with his knife handle and used the momentum to send Paul spinning from the ribs.

But—Paul's eyes suddenly lit up.

His planted foot twisted and pushed from the ground. Using the kick's recoil, he accelerated, grabbed his falling blade, and drove it toward Alan's back!

Another strike after the kick!

Alan didn't even have time to turn around!

Paul saw the blade about to land and felt a thrill of victory.

'This time… he hasn't even turned around. He can't win!!'

At that moment—Alan's shoulders slumped.

A thin blade ghosted from his shoulder and struck in front of Paul's sword.

The light friction trembled in the air. Under Paul's wide-eyed gaze, ripples shuddered through space.

With a bang, Paul's blade was knocked aside, whizzing past his ear and embedding itself into a tree with a buzzing vibration.

Senis and the others turned their heads to look at the sword now stuck in the tree, then back to Alan and Paul—completely bewildered.

Without fighting spirit enhancing their perception, the two men had moved too fast. All they saw was the two suddenly closing in, some odd twitches midair, and then—Paul's sword flew into a tree.

It felt like a joke.

Paul blinked, astonished. He looked at the sword lodged in the tree, then at Alan's slightly smug expression. For a moment, he was speechless.

Alan saw Paul dazed. He stood up, sheathed his blade, and waved a hand in front of Paul's face.

"Master, you really like to use Beishenliu."

Paul came to his senses. He looked down at his hands, still unable to believe it. How had he been disarmed without even holding a weapon?

But he still had some pride left.

"Well… it was a tactic. Your Secret Flow is quite something. It's airtight. If the opponent doesn't have overwhelming strength, it's hard to break through."

Then he looked both puzzled and exasperated.

"This technique is basically a perfect Water God Style move! How do you even come up with something like that? What kind of inspiration lets you deflect my sword and chop off my head at the same time?!"

Alan blinked, then answered seriously.

"What else?"

Paul stared at him, stunned.