Chapter 5
Weeks passed.
And Paul could no longer ignore it.
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"Rudy… do that again."
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Rudeus tilted his head slightly.
Then—
He moved.
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Step.
Turn.
Swing.
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Clean.
Precise.
Controlled.
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Paul's eyes narrowed.
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"That's not something a kid just… figures out."
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Because it wasn't.
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The movement—
Was a fragment of the **Sword God style**.
Something Paul himself had trained years to learn.
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Yet here it was.
Imperfect—
But unmistakable.
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"…Where did you learn that?"
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Rudeus paused.
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"…You."
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Paul blinked.
"…I didn't teach you that."
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But Rudeus had seen it.
Once.
Maybe twice.
In passing.
In motion.
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And that was enough.
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That night—
The training grew harsher.
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Rudeus wasn't just copying anymore.
He was **reconstructing**.
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He broke down movements into pieces.
Rebuilt them.
Adjusted angles.
Optimized force.
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His body screamed under the strain.
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Muscles tore deeper than before.
Ligaments strained.
Joints burned.
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Any normal child—
Would have been destroyed.
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But Rudeus—
Healed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Mana drained faster now.
His capacity growing—
But so was his consumption.
"…Not enough."
So he pushed further.
Until—
Even healing struggled to keep up.
For the first time—
His body remained damaged as he slept.
And yet—
He smiled.
Because that meant—
He had finally reached a new limit.