"A riposte, a parry, a block. All different things."

The sun was not yet out in the sky. First light in Trackback was a lot brighter. Anyone who hadn't been to the city before would think it was midday.

When Aiden had woken up, he had spoken first with the innkeeper. He had found her, to his surprise, sitting quietly on one of the chairs in the waiting area. She had been staring. Just staring.

Walking into the space, she had turned her head to him in something of a robotic manner. Her eyes had been dull and misty, her expression non-existent. If Aiden didn't already know that Trackback was filled with the eccentric and often unexplained, he would've been worried. In fact, he would've made arrangements to move to a different inn.

It had taken a few seconds of looking at him before her eyes had grown some light.

"I miss them sometimes." It was all she had said before slipping seamlessly back into her role as innkeeper.

She greeted him in a grandmotherly fashion, as if he was a child home for the holidays and his parents had decided to abandon the stress of his presence with his grandmother.

Rising from her chair like the aged, she'd shuffled her way to the back of a reception counter. She moved the simple wood pannel that cordoned the counter from the rest of the room and slipped in behind it. The motions were simple and she shuffled through them.

She wiped the counter down with a clean piece of cloth and arranged some things behind it. Food was to be ready at first light from what she told him. For him, it was on the house. The others had to pay, though. No refunds.

Aiden had no problem waiting for the food. Over level fifty, it would be long before he would feel the hold of hunger and require a meal. Instead, he had asked her if the inn had any open space he could use to practice.

"Fighting is such a terrible thing," she had moaned in disappointment. "I wish people wouldn't do it." She shook her head. "So barbaric." Then she pointed as if shooing him away. "There's an open space in the back. Old mercenaries used to love it back when my inn was famous and my children were still alive… So sorry, dear. Did I say alive? I meant around."

Aiden's brows had furrowed in thought. If her children were dead and she was refusing to accept it, was it a simple delusion or was something wrong?

After gaining the information, he had gone and dragged Zen out of his room. While Feira had been sleeping on the bed, Zen had been sleeping on the ground.

Zen had grumbled and muttered like a child while getting his things together, including the sword Aiden had given him.

It had been fun to watch.

"I know the different names," Zen complained, drenched in so much sweat that Aiden was already ticking off places they could buy new clothes in his head.

"You know the difference in names, yet you seem to parry when you should block," Aiden sighed. "That does not give me much confidence."

"A parry is better than a block," Zen argued. "It gives you a better chance at victory."

Aiden could've continued explaining, arguing the case, but he did not. There was no benefit in it. Sometimes, when you told a person that fire was hot and they argued, you just had to shut up and burn them.

He stepped forward, darting in low. While Zen was armed with an actual sword, he was armed with a bow, the one he had claimed from the large woman from the Dentis invasion.

Fist firmly grasping the blow and knuckles protected by the guard of the bow, he slipped into Zen's side. He kept his speed fast enough that Zen would not be able to anticipate him, but slow enough that Zen would be able to react at the last moment.

He punched upwards.

As if trying to prove a stubborn point, Zen swung his sword, meeting his bow strike at an odd angle. The fool was trying to parry, not block, just as Aiden had expected he would.

Aiden's strike slammed into the blade of the sword. A muffled thud of iron meeting wood popped between them, and Zen's sword was sent flying.

It clattered to the ground not too far from them and they both stood silently. Zen pursed his lips sheepishly, knowing what had happened.

"A parry," Aiden said simply. "Grants you the advantage of a chance to counter. But parries are difficult. They require proper timing, or an enemy of equal or lesser strength. Against someone stronger, you could just end up losing your weapon."

"If I had blocked, you could've just sent me flying," Zen pointed out in one last futile attempt at winning the argument. Aiden knew his friend well enough to know when the boy had accepted his loss, now he was just arguing to see how far his logic could take him.

It was one of Zen's annoying traits.

"If you had blocked and I had sent you flying, then you would at least still have a weapon to protect you." Aiden gave him a flat look. "Would you not?"

"But then I would—"

"Go pick up the damned sword, Zen," Aiden said with a sigh, cutting him off.

In his past life, he hadn't trained Zen, but he had seen enough instructors shake their heads and sigh in frustration as they did the task. He had often imagined just how frustrating it would be after he'd become an instructor.

I guess now you know.

[Congratulations!]

[You have gained perfect mastery!]

[Bow strike (Mastery 100.00%)]

…

[Foundational skill with perfect mastery detected.]

[Multiple foundational skills with perfect mastery detected.]

[Congratulations!]

[You have achieved perfect mastery in the necessary foundational skills.]

[You have gained skill Basic Bow-combat (Mastery 02.10%)]

Aiden waved the notification aside, dismissing it as Zen returned with his sword.

Zen looked at him suspiciously. "Did you just gain a skill?"

"Yes," Aiden answered easily. "[Basic Bow-combat] nothing too deep."

Zen's jaw dropped and it took Aiden a moment to remember that you didn't just go around telling people what skill or benefits you gained. The only reason he had answered Zen so easily was because he was used to it. Zen asked questions that weren't foolish and he gave the answer. It was just how they were.

This version of Zen would be new to it. The level of trust would probably throw him for a loop.

"How?" Zen asked, choosing to focus on the subject of the skill. "You've only had the bow for a few days, and this is the second time I'm seeing you use it. you got the archery skill the first time, now this? What's the secret?"

"My brother and I seem to be special in that regard," Aiden answered. "We grow quickly, that's all I know. It's always been like that. I'll have better luck explaining the shape of the moon in contrast with the sun's dead partner before I can explain that."

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"They were having an affair," Zen said with a shrug.

Aiden blanched. "What?"

"The moon's relationship with the sun's dead partner," Zen clarified. "They were having an affair. The sun found out and killed its partner. Everyone knows this."

Shaking his head, Aiden took a step away from Zen. If there was one thing he could always trust Zen to do, it was follow a stupid statement with a stupid explanation as if it was completely normal. Without missing a beat, too.

"I'm going to show you a few sword stances," he said, ignoring Zen's statement. "It's a royal fighting stance. I'll show you the first form and you'll repeat them every day until you learn them."

Zen slipped back into seriousness. "Got it."

It didn't take long for Aiden to replace his enchanted bow with a sword. Showing Zen the stances was easy enough. From the vast array of fighting stances he knew with the sword, he showed Zen one of the safer and simpler options.

Even though he hadn't taken his time to learn it in this life, Aiden was well-versed in the style of sword combat of the Brandis family. It was what the knights had taught them. Now, he taught it to Zen.

Sword held in both hands, he moved through the motions. The Brandis swordplay was, like most advanced swordplay, interesting. Slashes and cuts and sweeps were always interspersed with placements that allowed its user to easily switch into a guard position without seeming to break the flow of the stances.

A high strike somehow closed down into a possible option for a low guard or, if you were fluid enough, a different guard. Each stance had its easier flow, but there was always a way to change it without too many wasted movements or breaks in the flow.

Aiden moved slowly, making sure that Zen was following. One cut into a thrust, then a low slash into a side sweep into a low thrust designed to impale a person's thigh. He watched Zen as he moved, keeping his attention on his friend.

By the twelfth swing of his sword, Zen's face slipped into a thoughtful expression. It was Aiden's cue to stop.

Zen looked at him, puzzled. "Is that it?" he asked. "That's the form?"

"No," Aiden chuckled. "Each form has at least twenty-five steps, switching between strikes and blocks. The highest has fifty."

Zen's eyes widened slightly. "You only did eleven."

"Twelve," Aiden corrected. "And I stopped because you weren't following well enough anymore. That you counted eleven is proof of that. I'll show it to you again and you watch. My hands, my feet, the movement of my hips. I am a whole and single system of varying moves. Got it?"

Zen nodded, his expression slightly anxious.

Aiden went through the motion again. The sword style was one of the easier ones he had paid attention to in his past life. There were simpler sword styles, but they all paled significantly in quality even when they were not any easier to learn.

It took four more displays before Zen was half-confident enough to try it.

Aiden spent the rest of the morning and deeper into the afternoon correcting Zen's faults and errors. He rectified missteps, moved his hips correctly, changed the direction of his sword swings. Each time, he held back his growing impatience.

Teaching Zen was too many times more difficult than teaching new Order recruits. Through it all, Aiden reminded himself that Order recruits had a few criteria that they had to meet to be recruited.

Zen right now, did not have enough experience in life and, as such, did not meet whatever criteria he had met to make him a worthy candidate for Order recruitment in the future.

You've taught pompous scions and abject fools before, Aiden reminded himself as he corrected Zen's foot placement, remembering the noble idiots he had trained on some of his missions. If you can teach them, you can teach Zen from scratch.

Between sunrise and midday, the others came out, saw them, and exchanged a few words. By midday, while Zen continued to flail in his practice, Valdan and Ted were sparring in sword combat, steel blades clashing as they met and disengaged.

Feira and Fjord did more of standing on the sidelines, watching everybody. Aiden noticed Feira's gaze on him a few times. If she was wondering if he remembered her request to teach Zen how to kill men, she had nothing to be worried about. Aiden had intended on teaching that to Zen from the get-go.

As for Fjord, his expression was often one of sadness… or… Aiden couldn't really put a word on it. The boy simply looked downtrodden from time to time as he watched them.

Standing off to the side as Zen stumbled his way through twelve sword stances, Aiden held up his bow and used [Detect] on it.

[Enchanted Long-Bow: Wind's Rage]

A longbow crafted for the sake of battle. Fashioned from the trunk of a hollow-birch, it wields the strength of battle. Engraved by a shaman, it bears the power of the wind in each blast. This is a sturdy weapon designed for combat.

[Effect: Power shot]

With the wind behind your arrow, channeling the enchantment grants an increased piercing power and strength of strike.

[Durability: 100%]

[Requirement: Strength 49]

[Warning!]

[You do not meet the strength requirement to activate the effect of Wind Rage]

Forty-nine strength, Aiden thought, lowering the bow to his side.

His strength was currently at thirty-one, which meant that if he put in eighteen of his twenty-four unallocated stat points into his strength stat, it would be something he could use.

He chuckled at the thought.

[Stats]

[Dexterity 48], [Agility 34], [Mana 52], [Speed 43], [Perception 45], [Strength 31]

…

[You have 24 unallocated stat points]

[Would you like to use unallocated stat points?]

[Y/N?]

Yes, Aiden confirmed with a thought.

His short practice with Zen in the morning had been used to gauge his control over his new stats. [Agility], [Speed], and [Strength] were the only active stats that had required getting accustomed to. Practicing with Zen told him that he was as accustomed as he could be.

He could still get more accustomed, but there was no point in wasting more time delaying their allocation. They would be entering the crystal cave soon, and it would be stupid to embark on such a task while hoarding allocation points.

[Dexterity 48 > 52]

[Speed 43 > 45]

[Perception 45 > 50]

[Strength 31 > 40]

Aiden hesitated, unsure of which stat was deserving of an increase between [Mana] and [Agility]. [Mana] was a no brainer. His class was mana based. [Dexterity] and [Mana] were the most important stats for it.

But [Agility] had played an active role in combat in his past life. Not armed with attack skills, he had needed to vault and roll and duck and move to dodge blasts and skill attacks. The stat granted him a level of speed and flexibility that he just hadn't needed to use it in this lifetime so far. Experience had taken over the need for it. Most of his fights were spent predicting and anticipating instead of reacting.

You'll be fighting a bunch of monsters and people soon, he told himself, dropping the points into [Agility]. Trying not to kill them, you'll be doing a lot of reacting.

[Agility 34 > 37]

[Mana 52 > 53]

He just couldn't bring himself to not add at least one stat point into mana. Where strength had once been his lowest stat, it was now [Agility]. But it wasn't by a large margin. He would be lying if he said that Wind's Rage had not played a part in influencing the decision.

For all his experience, he was still human with a touch of bias here and there. Besides, Spell Binder was a sword on the heavier side as far as weapons went, with special proportions.

It would be disappointing if when he found the weapon, it was too heavy to use.

[Confirm 24 allocated stat points.]

[Y/N?]

Aiden's eyes narrowed at the notification. Was it just him, or was the notification different from what he usually got when he allocated stat points?

Thinking back on it, he nodded in certainty. It was different.

Differences in interface notifications were always a thing to worry about, especially now that he knew that the interface was capable of having errors. The question now was whether this was some kind of evolution or an error?

Aiden confirmed the allocation as Zen stumbled through a pivot and fell, sword clattering to the ground.

A rush of energy spilled from his chest, reaching into his extremities. Aiden sucked in a sudden breath, deep and full. It was like receiving a soothing yet slightly painful massage, like a masseuse with strong hands trying to loosen your knotted muscles.

The entire process didn't take long. Once it was done, he let the breath out, feeling refreshed. He felt heavier, sturdier, yet it contrasted with how light he felt on his feet. There was still a weight in his chest, though.

The weight that he had gained there since earning the [Giant Slayer] title remained. That was worrying. He had expected to lose it after crossing the threshold.

His senses pricked slightly, drawing his attention from the weight in his chest, and he turned to find Fjord and Feira approaching him.

Fjord looked like a reluctant child, while Feira looked like an older sister ready to fight.

What now? Aiden wondered with a slight touch of worry. The two of them had been talking and he was beginning to think that other people's conversations with Feira would not end well for him.

"Fjord has something to say to you," Feira said firmly, arms folded over her chest.

Aiden's gaze moved to Fjord. Fjord was trying to meet his gaze and failing.

Feira nudged him with her shoulder. "Go on. I can't be the one to say it for you."

"I'm listening," Aiden said, folding his arms, bow dangling from one hand.

"Uhm…" Fjord scratched the back of his head. "I don't mean to complain or anything…"

Feira rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"And I'm very grateful for everything you've done for me," Fjord continued. "I'm very happy that you took your time to give me a legitimate source of income, at least nothing illegal. And I can never stop being grateful for what you did in teaching me how to use my class when everybody else just gave up on me. And I…"

"Fjord," Aiden said calmly.

Fjord stuttered to attention. "Yes, sir."

"Look me in the eye," he said, giving the boy an assuring smile, "and tell me what your conversation with Feira has made you realize you want to say."

Feira shot him a dark look and he ignored her pointedly.

"I just wanted to ask a question really." Fjord scratched the back of his neck, struggling to make eye contact.

Aiden nodded, motivating him. "Ask, and I'll answer."

Fjord took in a deep, calming breath, and looked Aiden in the eye. Aiden read worry and fear in the boy's eyes even before the boy finally spoke.

"Am I really important to the team?"

Aiden was about to open his mouth when his mind forced it shut. Understanding crept up on him.

Oh.

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