Mushoku Tensei: Sword, Magic Hats, and Romance!

Around midday, Sylphy arrived.

She stood just outside the courtyard wall, head lowered, examining the wild grass at her feet with quiet focus. If not for the way her gaze kept flicking toward the garden from time to time, Allen would've assumed she was simply passing by.

Paul, who had claimed he'd be putting in a full day of extra training, saw her and immediately sighed with relief. Then, rubbing his temples, he herded both kids out to play.

After spending the entire morning being bombarded with endless questions from the children, Paul was clearly suffering from a severe case of mental overload.

Allen walked straight toward Sylphy, smiling and raising his hand to greet her—only to suddenly freeze mid-motion.

It's not like being seen naked by a kid is a big deal, haha, it's fine… people in this world mature early anyway.

"I-it's fine! About yesterday… I… I don't mind at all!"

You don't have anything to mind!!

Allen rubbed his forehead in mild despair and sighed.

"Then… let's just pretend it didn't happen. Rudeus? …Hm? Rudeus?"

Allen turned, only to see Rudeus still standing a few feet away, awkwardly waving at Sylphy. His discomfort was written all over his face—not just the residual embarrassment from being seen, but also his general difficulty dealing with girls his own age.

Allen blinked.

Rudeus may be a pervert, but deep down he's still a shut-in NEET. All talk, no action. Loves to boast, but the moment it gets real, he panics and flees—like when he ran from Eris and developed performance anxiety.

He couldn't help but snort in amusement. Then he turned back, slinging an arm around Rudeus, and started walking toward the courtyard. On the way, he casually looped his other arm around Sylphy's shoulder.

"Come on! Time to teach Sylphy some magic!"

"Don't drape yourself over me, Allen!"

"What, getting shy?"

"Not that! I need to go back and grab the magic textbook!"

"Oh—right!"

"Hey!"

"Sylphy, why are you laughing?? I'm literally going to get your study materials!"

"...I'm not laughing, Rudeus."

"Then you really need to work on your expression control! Allen, what are you laughing at?!"

"I'm laughing at how helpless you'll be in the future—relying entirely on Sylphy to hold you up."

"??"

"??"

...

Two months passed in a blur of laughter, sword practice, and magic lessons.

Before they knew it, May was drawing to a close.

As in the original timeline, Sylphy demonstrated outstanding magical talent. In just two short months, she had mastered most of the spells in the beginner textbook and was now learning chantless casting from Rudeus.

During this time, Rudeus often worked in secret behind Allen's back, researching something he called "tactics." At first, he'd even discuss possible strategies with Sylphy—until one day, by accident, he caught her secretly reporting those very strategies to Allen. After that, he never shared another plan with her again.

...

June 1st.

After breakfast, Rudeus exchanged a glance with Allen, then—with a rallying shout—marched boldly out the door.

Allen, meanwhile, took his time cleaning up the tableware.

Zenith watched Allen with a smile.

"I heard you two are having a sparring match today. I was honestly a little surprised! Allen, be gentle, okay~?"

Allen smiled back. He had a good impression of Zenith—probably because she reminded him of the kinds of people he'd known back in his previous life. Her personality felt familiar and comforting. She'd also been nothing but kind to him.

There was a strange warmth there… Was this what people called family?

Allen didn't quite understand what family really meant—he'd grown up in an orphanage, after all.

"Rudeus is stronger than you think," he said. "If anything, you should be more worried about me."

Zenith's lips curled into a knowing smirk—the exact same strange smile Rudeus made when he was plotting something.

Allen shivered.

Then she added sweetly,

"After all, our child is a genius. And very well-behaved~"

Allen nodded like a bobblehead.

If stealing a teacher's underwear counts as 'well-behaved,' then sure.

Then Zenith's expression softened again. She reached out and gently ran her fingers through the straight hair Allen had carefully flattened near his temple.

"You're a genius too, Allen~"

Allen blinked, momentarily stunned by her gentle tone. He didn't quite know what to say.

But then Zenith suddenly leaned in, face turning stern.

"So you two won't be causing another incident that ends in the clinic today, right?"

Allen coughed awkwardly.

"Of course not. I've got it under control."

Zenith narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.

"The last time was an accident."

"I'm just teasing. Go on now—be careful."

"Got it."

Allen stepped outside.

Paul was already standing in the courtyard. He smiled at Allen—then noticed the boy silently stopping in front of him, one hand resting on his sword sheath.

Paul tilted his head.

"Hmm? Are we continuing the morning's sparring session?"

"Yes."

"Oh? I thought you were supposed to be fighting Rudeus today?"

"He's doing a final run-through of his strategy. Said I'm not allowed to watch. Once he's ready, Sylphy will come get me."

Paul looked down at the sword in his hand and chuckled.

"I see."

The words had barely left his mouth when Paul's sword flashed from its sheath—his body cutting through the air, blade aimed straight at Allen's neck!

Allen's pupils shrank. His hand clenched the hilt of his blade.

"[Twenty-Fold Slash]!"

Sparks flew. Allen's blade swung in a blur, knocking Paul's away. In the same motion, he lifted his leg and kicked straight for Paul's face.

Thwack!

The fabric of his trousers rippled in the air. Paul raised his arm and caught the leg cleanly, eyes narrowing as he looked at the surprised expression on Allen's face.

"No good. You're still reflexively using other styles. I'm not sure what technique that slash just was, but it's not Water God Style. And that follow-up kick? Classic North God countermeasure."

Allen frowned, pulled his leg back, and leapt back to create distance.

Paul rolled his neck and raised his sword overhead in a high stance, full of offensive intent.

"If you keep falling back on the styles you're already good at, you'll never progress in Sword God Style. Haven't I told you that at least a dozen times over the past two months?"

"Sorry. Old habits die hard…"

Whenever Paul launched one of his rapid strikes, Allen instinctively defaulted to the combat patterns he'd internalized. What he was doing now was already the restrained version—before, he'd been relying entirely on Water God Style.

Why?

Because at equal skill levels, Water God Style held a clear advantage over Sword God. That preference for advantage was deeply rooted in his subconscious—a survival instinct honed by his past life's pragmatism.

Allen exhaled deeply.

Before learning [Light Reversal], the key to winning in Sword God Style mirror matches is simple: be faster. Whoever strikes first wins. That means going on the offensive—

But while Allen was still lost in thought, Paul's sword shot forward.

He brought it down hard onto Allen's blade. The steel screeched as it scraped past—and Paul's voice struck like a bell in Allen's chest.

"The sword must be faster than thought! Then why are you still thinking?!"

Their blades clashed and slid apart. A follow-up strike tore the air just beside Allen's ear.