Potential and Determination

With the girls' uniforms expected to take a few days to prepare, Paul decided to start attending classes the following week. This gave him four days of additional preparation, time he filled reading up on the very basic curriculum, exercising, and sparring with Xiangling.

Though her vision was currently inert, Xiangling had a little more than eight years of experience wielding a spear, hunting, and battling against the monsters of her world. She had to adapt to her limited strength and stamina, but she was still head and shoulders above Paul in terms of skill and experience.

Putting Paul at an even greater disadvantage, the range of spears made it exceptionally difficult to counteract them with a sword. Unless he rushed at her with the intent of slamming his shoulder into her body, Paul found it impossible to approach within three meters of Xiangling without suffering a counter.

"Damnit...!"

With Xiangling forcing him to drop his sword by slapping his wrist with the flat of her wooden spear, tears swelled in the corners of Paul's eyes as he cradled his hand against his chest.

Feeling apologetic, Xiangling was about to set aside her spear and lend a hand when Paul held up his own, uninjured hand and said, "Stop...I won't get anywhere receiving pity. Just give me a moment to collect myself, and we'll continue."

Though his body was covered in cuts, nicks, and bruises, Paul knew the only way to become truly powerful in the world of Mushoku Tensei was to push through things like pain and overcome his limits. One of the greatest boons of Touki was the regeneration it provided, so he didn't mind bearing a bit of pain if it would help stir the ambiguous energy he knew slumbered deep within his body.

Taking a deep breath, Paul picked up his sword with his left hand; its tip pointed towards Xiangling as he muttered, "I'm coming..."

Nodding her head, Xiangling stood with her body half-turned to Paul, her spear held behind her back at a 40-degree angle to the ground. Her form was similar to a spear version of the Water God Style. She could go on the offensive but preferred using counters and swift, piercing thrusts to break her opponent's stance and target their weak spots.

Bobbing up and down to try and hype himself up, Paul gritted his teeth and waited for Xiangling to blink before lunging towards her as fast as his feet could carry. With her spear positioned behind her body, he estimated there were only a few directions she could attack from. So long as he co-

Completely contradicting Paul's line of thinking, Xiangling stepped toward him instead of trying to create distance. Her footwork allowed her to slip past the point of Paul's blade, her left hand hooking behind his head and neck before she pivoted on her heel and sent him tumbling onto his side using his momentum against him.

"Oof..."

Landing heavily on his already injured arm, the only thing preventing Paul from crying out in pain or curling up into a ball was sheer obstinance. He might be five years old, but his mind was that of a 33-year-old American farmhand. No matter how much pain she caused him, Paul wasn't going to give up so long as he could keep moving.

Fortunately, the spar was brought to an abrupt end when Zhongli stated, "That's enough." in a tone that didn't leave room for argument. Paul and Xiangling had both asked her to help teach them, so she had the final say in matters regarding their training.

"Xiangling, go and prepare lunch. I'll see to our Master's injuries and the remainder of his training."

Though she had wanted to help Paul wrap his hand, Xiangling replied with a faint, "Okay..." before trotting over and returning her spear to the nearby weapons rack. Then, after casting a concerned and slightly pensive gaze at Paul, he scampered off to the kitchen, her soles creating a soft pitter-patter as they impacted against the wooden floor.

Much like Paul himself, Xiangling couldn't really understand why he had been designated as their Champion. In her eyes, his only remarkable trait was his looks. However, even those had effectively been given to him as a result of circumstance...

Waiting until Xiangling had disappeared into the kitchen, Zhongli shifted her amber eyes to Paul, her voice calm yet imposing as she said, "Stand up. It is when your body wants to give out on you that you 'must' get up. More often than not, the only thing that qualifies a person as a true hero is their ability to get up when others would have quit."

With a pained groan, Paul forced himself to his left hand and knees, beads of sweat trickling from his forehead as he took several steadying breaths. Then, in one final, pained exertion, he rose to his feet with what he hoped to be a determined look in his eyes.

Nodding her head in approval, Zhongli created a thin pillar of Geo Energy, propelling Paul's sword into her hand before she held it towards him and said, "One hundred strikes with your left and as many as you can manage with your right. You may stop, but no longer than three seconds at a time."

Suppressing the almost overwhelming urge to complain, Paul grabbed the hilt of the 3kg wooden sword and raised it high over his head. Then, in the motion his father had demonstrated when he was three, he began slicing downward in a slow yet deliberate manner, exhaling on the way down and inhaling on the way up.

While 3kgs might not sound like a lot, roughly 6.5lbs, Paul was just five years old. His natural affinity with Touki made things a little easier, but it was nearly impossible for him to swing a 3kg 100 times in a row without stopping. By the time he felt like his rotator cuff was tearing, he had only completed twenty-nine strikes.

Instead of chastising Paul for his poor performance, Zhongli nodded her head and said, "Switch arms. I never said you had to do all 100 strikes in a single setting. When one of your arms gets tired, switch to the other."

Clenching his teeth with enough force to taste blood, Paul switched to his right arm and began swinging. His injured wrist gave him the paradoxical desire to punch a wall, but he managed to get out five strikes before the pain forced him to switch hands.

Observing Paul with crossed arms and a neutral expression on her face, Zhongli had similar thoughts to Xiangling. However, as someone that had lived thousands of years, she had seen countless examples of seemingly normal humans breaking through their limits and becoming powerhouses that even she couldn't underestimate. So long as Paul never gave up, he, too, would join the legions of Heroes that had carved their name into the foundation of history.

Though he ultimately ended up violating Zhongli's three-second limitation on resting, Paul managed to complete all 100 strikes with his left hand. By then, the pain in his left shoulder had even exceeded the pain in his wrist. Despite this, Paul managed a pained chuckle as he dropped his sword on the ground and collapsed to his knees.

"Is this your limit...?"

Hearing Zhongli's perpetually calm tone, Paul opened his eyes to find her staring down at him with an impassive expression on her face. Though he immediately regretted it, an insuppressible rush of anger washed over him as he groaned, "Eat...a dick..." through labored breathing.

"Hmmm...it would appear you still have some vigor left within you. That's good. In the future, use that to push yourself even further. So long as you never lose control, emotions can be a powerful asset."

Punctuating her words, Zhongli hunched down, grabbing Paul's right arm, pulling him across her shoulders, and hooking her remaining hand around his leg in a manner identical to a fireman's carry. This made it difficult for Paul to breathe, but Zhongli largely ignored his groans as she lugged his limp body over to the sauna/washroom...

...

..

.

After one of the most hellish weeks of his life, Paul found himself standing outside one of the main lecture halls, patiently awaiting the teacher to call him in.

Contrasting the two girls standing on either side of him, Paul was wearing a two-tone green tunic accented over a long-sleeved white blouse and a pair of dark brown trousers sewn with an intricate, gold pattern. The tunic was trimmed in gold and had four belt-like straps running across the front and an ornate leather belt adorning his waist. As for the rest of his outfit, his feet were garbed in dark leather boots suited for riding, while his collar bore the crest of House Notos in the form of ornate golden lapel pins.

Standing out despite their comparably poor quality clothes, Zhongli and Xiangling wore matching uniforms that consisted of a long-sleeved green blouse, a predominately beige corset, and a marginally darker dress that extended past their knees and covered a pair of white stockings. On their feet, they wore glossy, black, single-strap pumps that complimented the dark trim of their outfit and black ribbons adorning their necks.

Though it was generally frowned upon for a 'servant' to wear the symbol of a Noble House, Paul had commissioned the local goldsmith to prepare brooch pins that would clearly denote Zhongli's and Xiangling's affiliation with House Notos. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone tried to claim the two girls for themselves, so Paul wanted to make it clear that they were off-limits.

Interrupting Paul's thoughts, the teacher, a middle-aged man with a round belly, receding black hair, and a hook-shaped mustache, opened the door to the classroom, stating, "Master Paul, the class ready to receive you and your...companions."

Leaving no room for confusion, Paul squinted his eyes and stated, "While I do not expect you to bow your head, you will regard these girls in a similar light as me. Do I make myself clear?"

Though his brows briefly furrowed, the teacher didn't even think to argue with Paul. The latter's father had even greater authority within the school than the Headmaster. He wasn't going to risk making an enemy out of the Regional Lord just to put a pair of servants in their place.

Crossing his hand over his heart, the teacher, better known as Professor Gaast, offered an overly respectful bow as he replied, "I have cared your words upon my very heart. Henceforth, I will treat the Ladies Zhongli and Xiangling with the respect they so clearly deserve..."

Squinting his eyes, Paul was about to point out the man's rather blatant sarcasm but ultimately decided against it. He was already compromising his first impression by standing outside the class entrance and making a fuss. Thus, without gesturing for Professor Gaast to rise, he bypassed the balding man and made his way towards the front of the classroom with a calm and dignified expression on his face.

"I am Paul Notos Greyrat, First Son of Amarant Notos Greyrat and Heir Apparent of House Notos, Lords of the Milbots Region. I look forward to getting to know each and every one of you. However, there is one thing I want to make transparently clear. These two, and anyone else bearing the crest of House Notos, are not yours to heckle, mock, or harass. If you are sincere about establishing ties with House Notos, you will treat them with dignity and respect. Anyone who violates this simple condition had better prepare themselves for the consequences..."