Over the next few days, the training grounds of the Palais Mermonia became the most eye-catching stage in the entire Focalors Familia.
Of course, this attention was currently limited to a small handful of spectators.
Under Astrea's unreserved, pouring-out-the-cup tutelage, Aiden's growth speed was nothing short of terrifying.
The overwhelming, practically feral physical attributes brought on by leveling up to Level 4 were rapidly tamed, absorbed, and mastered through his grueling daily spars with Astrea.
He was like a piece of stubborn iron tossed into a forge; under the hammer and anvil of a Goddess's divine sword techniques, he was visibly being tempered into a peerless, god-tier weapon.
The dynamic on the training ground was quietly reversing.
In the beginning, it was a completely asymmetrical "lesson."
Every one of Aiden's attacks sank like a stone into the ocean, while Astrea's wooden sword left countless painless marks across his body.
But now, the scene had evolved into a genuine, heart-pounding battle of offense and defense.
Aiden's sword still swung wide and heavy, brimming with overwhelming power and speed.
Yet within that berserker's frenzy, there was now a trace of something unprecedented—an agile, exquisite flow like running water.
He could now use the deflection techniques he had learned from her to neutralize her miraculous strikes.
The number of times he was hit dwindled.
Occasionally, he could even seize fleeting opportunities to launch effective counterattacks.
Smack!
Another sharp clash rang out.
This time, however, the sound didn't come from Aiden's body.
While trying to dodge an upward slash launched from a tricky angle, Astrea's form stalled for a fraction of a second, and Aiden's swift horizontal sweep landed a heavy, glancing blow against her arm.
A distinct red welt immediately surfaced on her delicate, milk-white skin.
Hiss—
On the sidelines, the girls of the Astrea Familia, led by Cecil Brakelisa, drew in a collective, sharp breath.
The looks they directed at Aiden instantly morphed into glares reserved for a sworn enemy, burning with raging fury and bloodlust.
How dare you injure our supreme Goddess!
Aiden instinctively shivered, his sword hand slowing down half a beat.
"Aiden!"
Astrea's voice carried a hint of severe reprimand. "What are you hesitating for? The battlefield changes in the blink of an eye. This moment of indecision is enough to get you killed a hundred times over."
"Yes!"
Aiden immediately reined in his focus, his eyes narrowing with renewed concentration.
He knew he couldn't hold back.
Fighting Astrea was no different than battling a genuine, deadly foe on the battlefield.
If he held back out of fear of hurting her, he wouldn't gain any growth from this sparring.
Moreover, Astrea had already strictly instructed him to treat her as a true enemy and show absolutely no mercy.
Of course, Aiden was well aware that his so-called "hit" was merely an illusion.
With his current full-force explosive strength, if he had truly struck Astrea's mortal vessel head-on, it would have left far more than just a red welt.
For every seemingly successful attack, ninety-nine percent of the force had already been dispersed by the Goddess's unbelievable techniques.
That red mark was nothing more than a superficial scratch left by the wooden sword brushing against her skin.
This was what a deity truly adept at combat looked like.
Unlike the majority of gods who descended to the lower world and couldn't even defeat a normal human, existences like Takemikazuchi and Astrea were genuine anomalies.
Their "technique" genuinely stood at the ceiling of this world.
"Combat is divided into three components: Mind, Body, and Technique."
During a brief lull in their clash, Astrea spoke to instruct him while adjusting her slightly ragged breathing.
"'Body' encompasses your strength, your speed, and your stamina. It is the foundation of everything. Right now, your 'Body' far exceeds that of adventurers at the same level."
"'Technique' is your skill, your execution, and your experience. You've learned very fast these past few days and have touched the threshold, but you are still a long way from true mastery."
"However, the most important of all is the 'Mind.'"
Astrea's gaze turned unfathomably deep. "'Mind' is your will, your ambition, your perseverance. It is the root that drives the Body and the Technique. Tell me, Aiden, why do you wield a sword?"
Why do I wield a sword?
This sudden question sent a jolt through Aiden's heart.
The sword in his hand involuntarily slowed down.
Yeah... why did he wield a sword?
At the very beginning, it was because he was filled with anxiety and terror after arriving in this unfamiliar world.
Picking up a sword seemed to be the only way to grant himself a sense of security.
Coincidentally, he had Alfia and Zald by his side at the time. Those two monster-like swordsmen, powerful enough to be natural disasters, had given him his first concrete understanding of "strength," sparking his passion to train with the blade.
Then, it was to prove something to Alfia.
He wanted to catch up to her footsteps, to earn her acknowledgment, and perhaps even defeat her.
His sword swings back then were filled with unyielding stubbornness and reluctance to accept defeat.
And now, it was to protect Furina, to guard Robin, and to ensure that Tifa Lockhart, Hyacine, Jeanne d'Arc, and the others would never suffer harm.
It was to protect this hard-won sanctuary called "home."
Was his sword meant to prove himself? Or was it to protect? Or was it... something else entirely?
Aiden fell into an unprecedented maze of confusion and deep thought.
"It seems you haven't figured it out yet."
Noticing Aiden's hesitation, Astrea's offensive instantly grew far more aggressive.
The sound of her wooden sword slicing through the air grew sharper, echoing the Goddess's interrogation.
"Then, let me change the question. What is your justice?"
To this question, Aiden didn't hesitate at all.
"My heart and actions are utterly unclouded. They are all those of 'Justice'!"
He blurted it out almost instantly.
This had been the fundamental, deeply buried principle guiding his actions ever since he crossed over.
Hearing this answer, a look of realization dawned in Astrea's eyes. Her attacks softened, and a knowing smile graced her lips.
"I see... You want to become the 'strongest'."
The Goddess's casually spoken words struck like a bolt of lightning, instantly cleaving through the fog in Aiden's mind.
Yes... the strongest!
His principle of "My heart and actions are utterly unclouded. They are all those of 'Justice'!"—wasn't that out-and-out, self-centered logic belonging strictly to the "strong"?
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