Rhett had no interest in how Joy Boy cleaned up the mess. He wasn't there to steal his good reputation. Good reputation wouldn't make his vice captain open up.
He yawned and pulled out the Black Tide Greatsword from his blood mist. His pride. His soul.
"Let's go, kid."
He carried the massive sword with one hand and took hers with the other. "Let's go do some swordsmanship. I'm a great swordsman."
He suddenly grew serious. She tensed.
"I was going to live among you as an ordinary person."
She blinked. "Not ordinary."
"Since you've discovered my secret—"
She was confused.
"I'm actually a top-tier swordsman."
He waited for admiration. Nothing.
She poked him. "Captain, what's a swordsman?"
He led her to an open area.
"Remember? I said I'm good with a sword. You can't just throw ice flowers. They're pretty, but this is more direct. Good to have options."
He swung the sword. "Point one, point two, point three."
He swung several times.
"Think of the sword as an extension of your arm. The key isn't the form. It's speed, accuracy, and power. Know when to strike and when to pull back."
She stared blankly. "No."
He made smaller swords from his mist and gave her one. "Feel the weight. Feel how it moves."
She copied his movements. He corrected her.
"Look at my sword, not my face."
"Feel the movement."
She puffed out her cheeks.
He poked them.
She bit his hand.
"Ow! Fine, fine!"
They trained. He corrected her stance, her aim. She learned.
The sun set on their lesson.