Chapter 11: “Separation”.

A month has passed since I told Paul I wanted to get a part-time job.

Today, a letter arrived for him.
I’d been mentally preparing myself, figuring the reply had finally come.

Maybe after sword training, or during lunch—no, probably dinnertime.
With that in mind, I focused seriously on today’s sword practice as usual.

—

It happened during sword training.

“Hey, Rudy.”

“Yes, Father?”

I tried to keep my face as sharp and serious as possible while listening carefully.
After all, this is my first job.
My first job ever, including my previous life.
I’m going to give it my all.

“So… if someone told you to break up with Sylphie, how would you feel?”

Paul suddenly asked something bizarre.

“Huh? Obviously I’d hate it.”

“Yeah, thought so.”

“What’s this about?”

“Nah, never mind. Talking to you just ends up with me getting talked circles around anyway.”

The moment those words left his mouth—

Paul changed completely.

Even an amateur like me could feel it: raw killing intent pouring off him.

“Eh!?”

“…!”

Without a word, the pressure alone hit me as he stepped in.

Death.

The word flashed through my mind.

On pure reflex I unleashed full mana.
Wind and fire magic activated simultaneously, creating an explosive gust between us.

I leaped backward, letting the heat blast push me even farther.

I’d simulated this countless times.
Against Paul, I have no chance unless I create distance first.
The explosion hurts me too, but if it can stagger him even slightly, I gain room.

But Paul charged forward as if the blast didn’t exist, leaning low.

(As expected—no effect!)

Even though I anticipated it, panic rises.

Next evasion—!

Backward is no good.
His step-in is faster.

Instinctively I slammed a shockwave straight sideways.
A punch-like impact hurled my body horizontally.

A freezing wind-cutting sound grazed my ear.
Paul’s sword passed exactly where my neck had been a moment ago.

Yes.

Dodged the first strike.
That’s huge.
Still close, but I’ve gained distance.
Victory is in sight.

I drop the ground beneath the foot he’s about to step with.

Paul steps into a small pitfall—or so I thought.
In an instant he shifts weight to the other leg and steps again, almost no delay.

(Do I have to stop both feet…!?)

I create a mud bog under him.

Before he sinks, I blast water jets from my soles and slide backward.

(Shit—too slow…!)

Too late.

Paul stomps the edge of the bog, cratering the ground with sheer force.
One step brings him right to me.

“U, uwaaaahhh!!”

I swing wildly in panic.
No form, no technique—just a desperate flail.

A slick, unpleasant sensation runs through my hand.

(Water God Style deflection…)

That much I understood.

Deflected by Water God Style means a counter is coming.
I knew it, but I couldn’t react.

In slow motion, Paul’s sword sinks toward my neck.

(Ah… good thing it’s a wooden sword…)

Impact.
Consciousness falls into darkness.

—

When I woke up, I was inside a small box.

The violent shaking told me I was in a vehicle.

I tried to sit up, but not even a finger would move.
Looking down—bound head to toe in rope.
Completely wrapped like a bamboo mat.

(What the hell is going on…?)

I turned my head.
A woman was sitting there.

Chocolate-brown skin.
Highly revealing leather outfit.
Ripped, bulging muscles.
Scars all over her body.
Eye patch.
Sharp, commanding face—like the classic fantasy female warrior.

Beast-like ears and a tiger-striped tail.
A bit hairy.
Probably beast race.

Our eyes met.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Rudeus Greyrat.
Sorry for being tied up like this.”

I introduced myself first.
Basic rule of conversation: take the initiative.

“Polite for Paul’s son.”

“I’m also my mother’s son.”

“I see. Zenith’s boy, huh.”

Apparently she knows my parents.
A slight relief.

“I’m Ghislaine. Looking forward to working with you starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow?

“Uh… thank you. Likewise.”

“Yeah.”

For now I burned the ropes off with fire magic.
My body hurts.
Probably from being tied in a weird position.

I stretch.
Freedom.

I’m used to moving only my fingertips in cramped spaces,
but being bound in front of a muscular onee-san gives off a weird vibe.

Looking around—it really is a small box.
Seats front and back.
Ghislaine and I face each other.
Windows on both sides.
The scenery outside is completely unfamiliar.

As expected—a carriage.
Heavy shaking; long rides will probably make me sick.
Clop-clop of hooves.
Definitely horses.

So I’m riding in a carriage with a macho onee-san for some reason.

……Wait!

Could it be… I’ve been kidnapped!?
Is this muscle woman planning to make me her plaything because I’m too cute!?
Stop—I mean, I’m not exactly against muscular women,
but I already have Sylphie, the girl I’ve decided on in my heart.
So at least be gentle…?

No no no!

Calm down.

In times like this, count primes…
Primes are lonely numbers divisible only by 1 and themselves… the priest said they give courage…

3, 5, 11, 13… uh…

I give up!

Primes don’t matter.
Just calm down.

Let’s organize the situation rationally.

First—Paul suddenly attacked and knocked me out.
Woke up tied up in a carriage.
He probably knocked me unconscious and threw me in here.
And inside the carriage was this “nice to meet you tomorrow” muscle onee-san.

Before attacking, Paul said something weird.
“Break up with Sylphie,”
“Sylphie is too good for you,”
“Sylphie is my woman,” etc.

That lolicon bastard… he’s even after my Sylphie!?
Wait—no, I don’t think he said the last part…

Ugh.

Thinking about Sylphie just makes it worse.
Damn it—Paul’s fault…!

Well—let’s just ask.

“Um.”

“Ghislaine is fine.”

“Okay then… you can call me Rudy-chan.”

“Got it. Rudy-chan.”

Jokes don’t land with this type.

“Ghislaine—did Father tell you anything?”

“Ghislaine is fine. No ‘-san’.”

She pulls a sheet of paper from her pocket and hands it over.
Nothing written on the outside.

“Letter from Paul. Read it. I can’t read, so say it out loud.”

“Okay.”

I unfold the casually folded paper.

‘To my beloved son, Rudeus,

If you’re reading this letter, it means I am no longer of this world.’

“What!?”

Ghislaine stands up in shock.
This carriage has surprisingly high ceilings…

“Please sit down, Ghislaine. There’s more.”

“Hm, right.”

She sits obediently.

‘Just kidding. I always wanted to write that once.

You got thoroughly beaten by me, crawled pathetically on the ground, got tied up like a prisoner, and thrown into this carriage looking like a pitiful captured princess.

You’re probably confused about what’s happening.

Ask the muscle daruma over there… though her brain is made of muscle too, so don’t expect a decent explanation.’

“What!?”

Ghislaine stands again in fury.

“Please sit, Ghislaine. The next part compliments you.”

“Hm, okay.”

She sits again.

‘She is a Sword King.

If you want to learn the sword, you won’t find anyone better unless you go to the holy land of swordsmen.

I guarantee her skill. I’ve never beaten her.

Except in bed.’

Stop writing unnecessary things, stupid dad…
But Ghislaine looks rather pleased.
He really is popular…
And damn, she’s strong, huh—Ghislaine.

‘Now, your job: you’ll be tutoring the young lady of the biggest house in Roa, the largest city in the Fittoa Region.

Teach her arithmetic, reading/writing, and some basic magic.

She’s extremely selfish and violent—bad enough that the school outright refused her.
She’s already driven off several tutors.

But I believe you can handle her.’

Handle… you’re just dumping it all on me…

“Ghislaine—are you selfish?”

“I’m not the young lady.”

“Right, of course.”

Continuing.

‘The muscle daruma there is the young lady’s bodyguard and sword instructor.

She wants to learn arithmetic and reading/writing in exchange for teaching you the sword.

Laugh if you want—her brain’s made of muscle too—but she’s serious (lol).’

“What did you saaaay…”

A vein bulges on Ghislaine’s forehead.

This letter isn’t just explaining the situation—
it’s also meant to provoke Ghislaine.
What kind of relationship do these two have?

‘She may not be the quickest learner,
but think of it as saving on tutor fees—not a bad deal.’

Tutor fees.
So I’m learning swordsmanship from her.
Paul’s instinct-based, so he found a better instructor.
Or maybe he gave up on my slow progress.
At least see it through to the end…

“How much does Ghislaine usually charge for sword lessons?”

“Two Asura gold coins per month.”

Two gold coins!

Roxy charged five Asura silver coins a month for tutoring me.
Roughly four times more.
Yeah—not a bad deal at all.
By the way, average monthly living expenses per person are about two silver coins.

‘As for your pay:

You’ll receive two Asura silver coins per month.

It’s below market rate for tutoring,
but it’s plenty for a child’s pocket money.

Find some free time and learn how to spend money in town.
Money only becomes useful when you’ve practiced using it regularly.
Though knowing my brilliant son, you’ll probably manage fine without it.

Oh—and absolutely do NOT buy women, got it?’

Stop adding unnecessary lines.
Is this one of those “don’t you dare do it” reverse psychology things?

‘And for the next five years, you will live in the young lady’s house and teach her without quitting.

Five years.

No returning home during that time.
No correspondence, including letters.

If you stay in the village, Sylphie won’t become independent.
Also—I felt you were starting to depend on her too, so I forcibly separated you.’

“What… did you say…?”

Wait—what?

Hold on.

So… five years without seeing Sylphie?
No letters either?

“What, Rudy-chan—you’re being separated from your lover?”

Ghislaine asked cheerfully as I despaired.

“No—I was just beaten senseless by an immature father.”

I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.
You really did it, Paul…

“Don’t look so down, Rudy-chan.”

“Um.”

“What?”

“Please just call me Rudeus.”

“Got it.”

But thinking calmly—

Paul’s reasoning makes sense.

If Sylphie keeps growing up like this,
she might end up like one of those clingy childhood-friend characters in bad eroge—
a satellite orbiting the protagonist with no sense of self.

In real life she’d probably make friends at school or through lessons and gradually become less dependent—
but Sylphie can’t make friends because of her hair.

There was a very real chance that even five years from now she’d still be glued to me.
I personally wouldn’t mind,
but the adults around us clearly didn’t think it was healthy.

Fair judgment.

‘Five years of learning all sorts of new things in a completely different place.
I pray you make even greater strides.

From your wise and far-too-great father, Paul’

Wise my ass…!
It was brute force!

Still—I have to admit this decision is solid.
For my sake and Sylphie’s.
She might end up alone for a while…

You have to solve your own problems yourself,
or you’ll never grow.
She can’t keep depending on me.

“Paul really loves you, huh.”

Ghislaine’s words drew a wry smile from me.

“He used to keep more distance.
Once he realized I’m similar to him, he started getting pushy.
But Ghislaine—you too…”

“Hm? What about me?”

I read the last line.

‘P.S. You can lay hands on the young lady if she consents,
but the muscle daruma is my woman—so hands off.’

“That’s what it says.”

“Hm. Send that letter to Zenith.”

“Understood.”

And so—I set out for Roa, the largest city in the Fittoa Region and a fortified stronghold.

I had many feelings about it, but for now—this is fine.
I feel a little more awake.
Yeah. This was the right thing.
I shouldn’t stay together with Sylphie.
No lingering attachment at all.
Yeah.

I kept telling myself that.

(But… I’d like to see her at least once a year…)

While my heart wavered just a little.

—

—Paul Perspective—

“Th-that was close…”

I look down at my unconscious son and my mud-stained boots.

Today was the last day of sword training.
I planned to go a little serious, scare him, show him fatherly dignity, then knock him out—
but his reaction speed was insane. He threw magic at me.

And not offensively—mostly spells to stop my feet.
All different types too.

“As expected of my son. He’s got battle sense.”

It was just an instant.
Despite a perfect surprise attack, he forced me to take three steps.
Especially that last step—if I’d hesitated even slightly, he’d have caught my leg and turned it around.

In terms of content, I lost completely.

If I threw him into some random party right now,
he’d be an unbelievably useful magician.

“No wonder he made a Water Saint-rank magician lose confidence in herself…”

Terrifying, even though he’s my own kid.
But I’m happy.
I used to feel only jealousy toward anyone more talented—
but with my son, I just feel pure joy.

“Oops—no time for this.
Rollins and the others will be here soon.”

I quickly tie up my unconscious son and toss him into the waiting carriage.
Right on time, Rollins arrives—with Sylphie.

“Rudy!?”

Sylphie sees him bound and instantly fires an intermediate attack spell chantless.

I deflect it easily,
but chantless, perfect power and speed.
Anyone else would’ve died.

What the hell has Rudeus been teaching her?

I hand the letter to Ghislaine, throw Rudeus into the carriage, and signal the driver to go.

Glancing back—Rollins is crouched down, saying something to Sylphie.

Yes, yes.
Education is a parent’s job.
The part I left to Rudeus—I’ll take back myself, Rollins.

I let out a breath and watch warmly.
After a while, Sylphie’s voice rides the wind.

“I understand. I’ll become strong enough to save Rudy…!”

Heh—he’s loved, my son.

From inside the house, my two wives come out.
I told them to watch from indoors since it’s dangerous,
but they came to see him off.

“Ahh, my sweet Rudy is leaving…”

“Madam—this too is a trial!”

“I know, Lilia. Ahh, aahh, Rudeus! My son setting off on a journey! And poor me, robbed of my only son!”

“Madam—you no longer have only one son.”

“Right. Two little sisters were born.”

“Two…! M-Madam!”

“It’s fine, Lilia. I’ll love your child too!
Because I love you!”

“Ahh! Madam, I feel the same!”

They watch the departing carriage with exaggerated theatrical flair.

Since Rudeus is so capable, these two aren’t actually that worried.
Still—these two get along so well.
I wish they’d get along with me too.
Or at least stop ganging up to bully me…

“But when the little ones start understanding things… Rudeus won’t be here anymore…”

Rudeus had some “cool big brother plan” in mind, but that’s too bad.
The affection of my cute daughters will now be monopolized by their father.

Hehehe.

Wait—hold on.

In five years Rudeus will have received elite training from Sword King Ghislaine.
At twelve his body will be fully developed.

If we have a mock battle with magic when he returns—
will I even be able to beat him?

Crap. My fatherly dignity five years from now is in serious danger.

“Mom, Lilia.
Since Rudy’s gone, I think I’ll train a little harder too.”

Zenith’s deadpan stare.
Lilia whispers to her.

“He’s only feeling a sense of crisis now because he’s about to lose to Young Master Rudeus.”

“He’s always been like that. He doesn’t make effort until he’s about to lose.”

My fatherly dignity was already in jeopardy.

(Well… dignity isn’t really necessary anyway.)

Having had a father obsessed with pointless dignity, I truly feel that way.
So I’ll keep playing the sloppy, womanizing useless dad for a while longer.
I’ll aim to be an approachable father without dignity.
At least until all three kids are grown…

I glance at Zenith.
A body that doesn’t look like it’s borne two children… so nice…

(Well… if a fourth or fifth comes along, I’ll extend the contract. Hehehe)

Anyway—setting aside talk of a fourth child.

(Rudeus…)

I don’t like handling it this way either.
But you wouldn’t listen to words, and I don’t have confidence I could make you.
Just watching idly would make me a failure as a father.
I’m relying on others because I lack strength, but this is what I could do.
It might be forceful, but you’re smart—you’ll understand eventually…

No—even if you don’t, that’s fine.
The things you’ll experience where you’re going are things you could never taste in this village.
Even if you don’t understand at first, dealing with what’s in front of you will surely make you stronger.

So hate me.
Resent me. Curse your own powerlessness at being unable to resist me.
I was suppressed by my own father too.
I couldn’t overcome it—so I ran away.
I have regrets. I have regrets.
I don’t want you to feel the same.

But—
by running away, I gained strength.
I don’t know if it’s enough to beat my father,
but it was enough to get the women I wanted, protect what I wanted to protect,
and pin down my young son.

If you want to rebel—go ahead.
Get stronger and come back.
At least strong enough not to lose to your father’s tyranny.

Watching the carriage carrying Rudeus disappear,
that’s what Paul was thinking.

Chapter 1: Childhood — End