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Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Ain’s Dual Sword Style

Chapter 44: Ain’s Dual Sword Style

”I’m a man, so just treat me here,” Axel said, still unwilling to leave.

The middle aged doctor frowned. ”Even if you are, the infirmary has proper equipment. Treatment will be safer there.”

There was no way to do a careful examination on a dusty training field with dirt and grit everywhere.

”Then please wait a little longer,” Axel said. ”At least let me finish watching this assessment. Please.”

The doctor looked at him for a moment. Perhaps it was Axel’s stubborn tone. Perhaps it was the lack of visible bleeding. In the end, he relented.

”Fine. But if your condition worsens, I’m taking you away immediately. No arguments.”

He took off his white coat and spread it over the ground. Binz helped Axel sit down on it. Axel braced himself with one hand, forcing his body upright. He knew that once he lay back down, he would lose sight of the field.

Not long after, Ain returned.

This time, she was carrying a second short sword.

Before, when she had faced Zephyr the first time, she had been too focused on proving herself through raw force. She had tried to make up the gap with strength, and in doing so, she had abandoned the style she was actually best at.

Zephyr’s gaze settled on her once more.

Two swords.

He had seen plenty of pirates use multiple weapons before. In a real fight, dual wielding was undeniably dangerous. Compared to a single blade, it created far more pressure and made defending much harder.

For ordinary opponents, that was true.

But Zephyr was not an ordinary opponent.

He had fought across the seas for years. Fishmen who used several weapons, pirates with strange styles, lunatics who attacked from impossible angles—he had seen all of it.

”Ready?” Zephyr asked.

Ain nodded.

She inhaled slowly, adjusted her breathing, and tightened her grip on both short swords.

This was the last chance Axel had fought to win for her.

There was no room left for hesitation.

All she could do now was show the very best of the swordsmanship she had trained for years.

Then she moved.

Her feet barely made a sound as she darted forward. Her body swayed from side to side in an irregular rhythm, her path shifting so smoothly that it became hard to tell which line she would take next.

The field was wide enough that her footwork had room to breathe. From a distance, it almost looked graceful.

Zephyr watched in silence, and for once, there was a trace of expectation in his eyes.

Compared to her earlier attempt, this was already different. Before, she had tried to force power where she did not have enough. Now, her body had turned fluid, hard to pin down, and far more troublesome to read.

The distance vanished in a blink.

When she entered striking range, Ain moved first.

The short sword in her right hand flashed upward in a tight rising slash. It was not a heavy strike, but it was sharp, fast, and difficult to judge.

Zephyr calmly lifted one hand to intercept it.

But Ain never intended to let him catch her there.

The moment his hand moved to close off the line of attack, she took a quick step around his side. Her right hand pulled the first blade back before it could be trapped, while the short sword in her left hand cut in from the flank without pause.

The transition was seamless.

Attack, withdraw, reposition, strike again.

It happened in a single breath.

Still, Zephyr reacted just as easily.

His wrist shifted and knocked the second blade aside as casually as if he were brushing away a falling leaf. His body had not even moved.

Ain retreated at once, her feet sliding back into that butterfly like rhythm, never staying in one place for long.

She circled. Cut in. Withdrew. Changed angles. Closed from the blind side. Slipped past and attacked again.

Her style had none of Axel’s strange explosiveness, nor Binz’s Devil Fruit tricks.

What she had was precision.

Agility.

Unpredictability.

Her swordsmanship was built on movement. On rhythm. On making herself difficult to pin down until the blade appeared where the enemy least expected it.

This was Ain’s dual sword style.

It lacked crushing power, but it had a beauty of its own.

The students watching from the side stared without blinking.

Even Axel, despite the pain still throbbing through his body, found himself watching closely.

Zephyr blocked every strike. Sometimes he did it with a flick of the wrist. Sometimes with a slight turn of the shoulder. Once, he even placed both hands behind his back, then blocked a blade coming from behind without needing to look.

Only then did he say, ”Interesting.”

Just that.

Interesting.

Because to Zephyr, that was all it was for now.

Against men with truly monstrous physiques, swordsmanship like this still lacked the killing force needed to break through overwhelming durability. It was dangerous, yes. Elegant too. But against someone of his level, it was not enough to threaten him head on.

Even so, she was only a little girl.

And for someone her age to develop a style this clean, this distinct, this suited to herself—

That alone spoke volumes.

After another exchange, Zephyr made his judgment.

”You pass.”

Ain froze.

She had been fully prepared to keep fighting until she had nothing left, yet the words landed so suddenly that she did not seem to understand them at first.

”Passed...?” she asked, almost blankly.

Zephyr looked at her. ”You passed.”

Only then did the meaning sink in.

Her eyes widened. The short swords trembled slightly in her hands. Then she hurriedly bowed, voice bright with emotion.

”Thank you!”

Zephyr waved one hand. ”No need. You passed because of your own effort. If your ability didn’t meet the standard, I would not have approved you.”

He paused, then added in his usual blunt tone, ”That said, your swordsmanship still has flaws. Especially once someone forces themselves close. Your attacks lose too much lethality. Fix that.”

But Ain barely seemed to hear the criticism.

”Thank you! Thank you so much!”

She kept bowing, unable to hide the sheer joy on her face.

Zephyr did not stop her. He simply looked away with a faint snort, saying nothing more.

Binz and Alvis both stepped forward to congratulate her.

Seeing that the atmosphere had changed, Zephyr decided not to stay any longer. He had already spent more time here than planned. There were still other matters waiting for him.

He turned and said, ”You two, report tomorrow afternoon. Someone will take you to the training camp.”

”Two?” Ain blinked, then immediately turned. ”What about Axel? What about him?”

Zephyr glanced at Axel and answered bluntly, ”If you think he’s in any condition to train right now, then drag him along. Otherwise, wait until he recovers.”

After throwing out that line, he left without another word.

Ain quickly bowed toward his back again. ”Thank you!”

Only after he was gone did the tension in the field finally loosen.

Axel had watched the whole thing through to the end, and only then did Binz and the doctor haul him off to the infirmary. The stretcher Binz made from plants looked clumsy, but it worked well enough.

Once inside, the doctor examined him carefully, pressing along the ribs, shoulders, and abdomen with a practiced hand.

After a while, he straightened up.

”It looks worse than it is,” he said. ”You’ll need a few weeks of rest, but there’s nothing too serious. Honestly, that’s the strange part. Judging by the force you took, your injuries should have been much worse.”

Axel let out a dry laugh. ”That must be because Teacher Zephyr held back.”

”That part, I believe,” the doctor said. ”Zephyr may be terrifying, but he isn’t reckless.”

Then his brows drew together.

”But that still leaves one question. Why are you the only one who ended up this badly injured?”

Axel’s lips twitched.

That was, admittedly, a very good question.

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