Survival

Much to the chagrin of the girls that had been enjoying their evenings with Paul, the latter began spending most of his 'free time' practicing within the Boulder-Cutting Pavilion. A few came by to try and entice him for a romp, but he politely refused most of them.

Unfortunately, despite his growing speed and strength, Paul felt like he was making no progress towards cutting even the smallest boulder. He had managed to break one in two, but that was due to a fault within the boulder itself. Had he executed the Boulder-Cutting Technique correctly, both sides would have a near mirror-like polish.

Undaunted by his failure, Paul pressed on for nearly four weeks straight before something changed within his increasingly mundane life: Ghislaine appeared.

Without saying anything, Ghislaine would show up, demonstrate her Longsword of Light, and then spend the better part of an hour shaving off pieces of a medium-sized boulder using her sword. It couldn't be considered much exertion for a Sword Saint, but by the time she was finished, Ghislaine would be completely covered in sweat as she stared at Paul with a feverish look in her eyes and plumes of steam exhaling from her mouth and nose.

Understanding what Ghislaine's condition signified, Paul put even more effort into his training. He did his best to copy her form, but while they helped a surprising amount, he wasn't able to cut through a boulder as the ninth month transitioned into the tenth, eleventh, and eventually the twelfth month.

With the end of the Mating Season, so too came an end to Ghislaine's visits at the Boulder-Cutting Pavilion. This made Paul a little depressed, but he was able to recover quickly by visiting the girls in the Intersection of Fate and practically having an orgy. Even Razor ended up joining in, a hurtle Paul wasn't sure he would ever be able to become with any of his genderbent summons. Fortunately, Razor 'benefitted' from looking a lot like Ghislaine, hair, eyes, and breasts included. Paul also felt a little guilty about leaving her out, so the two of them eventually went at it like wild beasts...

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With only a few weeks remaining until the time limit set by Gal, Paul was spending even the evening hours in the Boulder-Cutting Pavilion. Unless someone came by to tell him he was needed elsewhere, he would swing his sword from sunrise to sunset and beyond. His only breaks occurred whenever he would collapse, faceplanting into the snow until someone came by to pick him up and carry him to his room.

What Paul didn't know was that the person carrying him back to his room was, more often than not, Gal. The Sword God had been keeping a close eye on him ever since the start of his training, curious to see how far Paul could push himself despite his 'lack of talent.'

If anyone were to ask him, Gal would say he wasn't very impressed with Paul's progress. At the same time, however, he had come to respect Paul for his conviction. Most people in Paul's circumstances would have given up a long time ago. Instead, Paul kept pushing himself harder and harder, driven by a sense of purpose that transcended common sense.

On the eve before the deadline he had set, Gal appeared before Paul to ask, "Why? What could possibly compel a boy as young as you to try this hard? What is it you hope to achieve?"

Lowering his severely battered and broken sword, its handle so frayed it needed to be wrapped with bandages just to give it a grip, Paul turned to Gal with ostensibly dead fish eyes and said, "Survival."

"Hmm..."

As he was well aware of Paul's position and circumstances, Gal wasn't too surprised by the former's words. He had even received a letter from the First Prince asking him to arrange an 'accident' for the young, exiled member of House Notos. Gal promptly burned the letter, but there was a fair chance he would be tasked with hunting Paul down if the First Prince managed to secure the throne.

"I see...I get it now. You've quite a bit of foresight, don't you...?"

Though he suspected there was more to it, Gal finally understood what could compel a ten, nearly eleven-year-old boy to such extremes. Even if he had done no wrong, Paul's prodigious talent practically guaranteed he would be viewed as a threat to be eliminated. While others pursued the path of swordsmanship to make a name for themselves, the thing that pushed Paul forward was his understanding that it was only a matter of time before Kings, Emperors, and even Gods began hunting him...

For the third, maybe the fourth time in his entire life, Gal felt genuine pity for another person. He also knew what it was like to be 'oppressed' due to possessing an overwhelming talent. Had he not had a master with the foresight to take him far away from the Asura Kingdom for training, there was a fair chance he would have been eliminated like most of the people who 'threatened the stability of the Kingdom.'

Unfortunately, as much as he could empathize with Paul's plight, Gal had no intention of bearing the youth's burden. Like Reida, he was contracted with the Asura Kingdom. He could ignore orders that asked him to violate the sacred principles that governed the Holy Land of the Swords, but the moment Paul stepped outside, all bets were off. If the King ordered it, he would have no choice but to hunt down and butcher the youth like a pig...

"Tell me something, punk...are you feeling lucky...?"

Though he had no idea what Gal was about to do, Paul managed a smile as he answered, "Every day of my life..."

Snorting in response to Paul's words, Gal muttered an almost inaudible, "Brat..." before adopting a faint yet vicious smile as he instructed, "Turn around and take your stance."

Doing as Gal said, Paul took a two-handed stance with his feet spaced apart in a way that allowed him to shift his center of balance in virtually any direction in an instant.

Catching Paul by surprise, Gal walked over to him and made a few minor adjustments to his stance as he said, "You're a pretty scholarly brat. Tell me, do you know the difference between Mana and Touki...?"

Though alarm bells were beginning to sound in his mind, Paul answered, "There is none...the only difference is in how they're-"

"Wrong."

After adjusting Paul's position, Gal stood behind him with his right hand raised like a knife hand as he explained, "While they draw from the same source, one is driven by imagination, while the other is driven by will. The two can complement one another, but there is a reason most people can only be a Mage or a Swordsmen. Those with strong imaginations get lost in thoughts of how they can change the world. Those with stronger wills get lost in trying to..."

Punctuating his words, Gal promptly stabbed his fingers into Paul's back, each digit sinking between the gaps in his ribs as he said, "Strike...!" in a commanding tone.

Though he wanted little more than to scream out in pain, Paul ignored the searing sensation spreading through his back and body as he swung his sword with all his might. To his tremendous surprise, the edge of his blade appeared to become superheated as he sliced through one of the smaller boulders without so much as a hint of resistance.

Just as a smile developed across Paul's face, the searing pain in his body became even more intense as Gal retracted his fingers and revealed, "I injected my Touki into your heart and body. I would tell you to memorize how it feels, but there's about a 70-80% chance you're going to suffer an excruciating death within the next couple of minutes. That is unless you can expel it from your body..."

Following his words, Gal unsheathed his Windpipe and slashed it toward Paul at a speed he knew the latter could react. One of the best methods to exhaust Touki was fighting to survive, so, with the intent of giving Paul marginally better chances, he sent the heavily bleeding youth careening back several meters before quickly following suit.

Though his feet left trails in the dirt and snow, Paul's expression became frenzied, almost feral as he issued a guttural war cry and charged at Gal. The foreign Touki in his body caused him to feel like he was overheating and on the verge of exploding. It also disrupted the flow of his Mana, so, despite trying to activate it numerous times, Paul was unable to use his Lesser Regeneration. The only thing he could do was fight and survive, so, with his Black Sword in hand, he charged towards Gal with unbridled killing intent. His death would mean the end of two worlds, so there was no way he was dying here.

He couldn't...

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Not yet...

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Not ever...

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"Why does this never...get any fucking easier...!?"

Influenced by Paul's speech habits, Reida had a look like she was about to kill everyone present as she strained every muscle in her lower body in an attempt to force out the obstinate infant inside of her. She had been in labor for nearly eleven hours, so even with her monstrous strength and stamina, she was nearing her limit.

"Please...just come out already..."

As if answering her prayers, Reida felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as the agonizing pressure threatening to drive her crazy was suddenly discharged. Tears of relief began to build in the corners of her eyes, but before she could relax, the maroon-haired woman helping to deliver her child reluctantly informed her, "There is another..."

Before Reida could make sense of what the woman had said, an even more intense pressure than before began to build in her lower body. The tears in her eyes quickly transitioned from those of relief to extreme pain as she shouted, "Paul Notos Greyrat! The next time I see you, I'm going to bite your fucking head off...!"

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Though things weren't going as well as she would have liked, Ningguang was making slow and steady progress in her takeover of the Strife Zone. She was a little worried about the fact that Kaeya had gone missing, but Ningguang trusted that the former wouldn't allow herself to be captured or detained without purpose.

On a more positive note, Beidou, Childe, and Thoma had managed to infiltrate the Shirone Kingdom and spread their influence through some of its larger ports. Beidou had even managed to secure herself a rather large ship and was slowly building a reputation as the Pirate Princess of Pax Harbor. The only thing preventing her from becoming a full-fledged Pirate Queen was her apparent age.

Fortunately, the people of Mushoku Tensei really did appear to mature at a much faster rate than usual. Ningguang was only eleven-years-old, but her appearance matched that of her previous self's fifteen or sixteen. If anything, her breasts were a little larger, a side-effect Zhongli attributed to the Intersection of Fate altering them to appeal more closely to Paul's sensibilities.

Since the Intersection of Fate had changed numerous people's genders, Ningguang didn't bother questioning it. She was just happy knowing she would reach full maturity around the age of fifteen. Being trapped in the form of a pubescent child despite being in her early thirties hadn't been the most pleasant experience. Sure, she looked cute, but there was only so much you could leverage cuteness to attain. Beauty, however, was a key that opened many doors...

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