Chapter 13

After washing up in the morning and scarfing down breakfast, Roxy stood at the doorway, taking a deep breath.

The morning was Roxy's domain, and Sylphie had come bounding over at first light. This gentle, lovable girl didn't have many friends in the village. Luckily, Roya Greyrat had spotted her early on—otherwise, she might've ended up a lonely outcast, tormented by the other kids. With Roya's calculated nudge, Sylphie had taken a shine to Rudeus, and the two were now thick as thieves.

Roya couldn't help but think it was time to launch a ludicrous "loli-raising plan" for his dimwitted little brother.

Roxy brimmed with knowledge, hinting at a well-traveled past. She'd said she came from the Demon Continent, a brutal land crawling with fearsome magical beasts. When she first arrived in this lusher, more prosperous region, she couldn't help but envy the folks thriving on such fertile ground.

She kicked off the lesson with the fundamentals of magic formation and the roots of mana, then dove into advanced spellcasting. To her shock, Roya nailed the techniques after just a handful of tries. Even Rudeus and Sylphie, after a morning of fumbling, managed to coax out some shaky spells of their own.

With a strained smile, Roxy muttered under her breath, "Guess it won't be long before you all leave me in the dust."

Roya and Rudeus swapped a quick glance. Their little crew had clearly rattled the young teacher's confidence. Roya couldn't help it, though—blame his freakish knack for magic.

"Don't sweat it, Master Roxy," Roya said, voice steady and reassuring. "Rudeus is a complete dunce, so you'll be stuck teaching us for a while yet."

Rudeus blinked, bewildered. "???"

After the morning drills, Sylphie hung around for lunch. At noon, Roya kicked back for his usual nap. Roxy, not one for midday snoozing, headed out to aid the farmers, casting rain magic over the fields.

In his downtime, Roya checked in on his "other self" in another world.

Playing video games.

Great.

Roya sank into thought. 'This AI's a bit too laid-back,' he mused aloud. "Mind explaining why you're gaming?"

"Big Bro, what're you playing?" Four-year-old Kazuto Kirigaya craned his neck toward the teen's screen, where a gory horror game blared in all its violent glory.

Roya paused, then hoisted Kazuto up, perching him on his shoulder. Onscreen, a grizzled, gun-slinging middle-aged man prowled with three companions, zombies shambling out at every turn. With surgical precision, Roya's character popped headshots left and right, mowing through the horde in a flash.

"Big Bro, you're awesome!" Kazuto's eyes gleamed as he gawked at the screen.

Roya's rich, magnetic voice cut in. "Wanna play, Kirito?"

Kazuto tilted his head, thrown by the nickname, but nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I wanna play!"

And so, the big-and-little pair hunkered down indoors, gaming the day away.

Back in the Jobless Reincarnation world, Roya was steaming. "You lazy bum!" he snapped. "Slacking off like that—what kind of useless autopilot are you? If you don't shape up, how am I supposed to kick back later? Forget it—if you're loafing, I'll loaf too. We'll all just rot 'til the Dragon God rolls in, spouts some mushy garbage, and we croak together."

After a beat, he barked at his other self: "Go study!"

Still playing games.

Wait—so the autopilot couldn't take orders? It just did whatever it felt like? No way he'd game all night, though—that was an insult! Roya wasn't that slack. At minimum, he'd… well, nap before gaming again.

With a frustrated grunt, he shut his eyes and conked out.

Come afternoon, Paul's sword-training class fired up.

"Moron! You're just stomping forward and hacking down!" Paul bellowed at Rudeus. "You've gotta step light and slash smooth—sharpen it up!"

Rudeus glowered, indignant. "How am I supposed to decode that cryptic junk? 'Step light and slash smooth'—can you be any vaguer?"

Paul didn't flinch. He pointed at Roya, who'd just split a rock clean in two with one swing. "Then how's your big brother pulling it off?"

"Him? Don't act like you don't know he's a prodigy!" Rudeus fired back. "It's not your teaching—it's his natural edge!"

Paul sighed theatrically, rubbing his forehead. "Oh, I see. So it's your lack of talent, huh?"

Rudeus's face flared red. He opened his mouth to snap back, then clamped it shut. Paul's dig wasn't exactly off-base.

'Fine, everything's my fault,' Rudeus stewed silently. Catching Roya smirking off to the side, he lost it. "Big Bro, say something! Look how smug he's getting!"

"Huh? Calling your dad by his first name now? You're in for it!" Paul grabbed a wooden sword and started whacking Rudeus.

Roya palmed his face, muttering, "Two dolts."

Once Paul had sorted Rudeus out, he turned to Roya. "Let's see how much you've stepped up lately."

Sparring time, naturally. Paul trained with them daily as their practice partner, and Roya wasn't about to back off. Taking a steady breath, he leveled his sword. Paul mirrored him, his burly arms and calloused hands proof of years at the blade.

With a shared nod, they struck at once. Their opening moves—pure Sword God style—were identical: fast, fierce, and spot-on. The wooden swords met with a sharp, grating clash. Paul raised a brow, caught off guard that Roya could match his strength. He leaned in harder, but Roya's eyes narrowed. Mana surged through him, coursing across his frame.

In a blink, the slim, delicate boy's muscles bulged. Power flooded his limbs as he sucked in air, then swung his sword upward, forcing Paul's blade back.

Rudeus and Roxy's jaws hit the floor. The once-cute kid now looked like a mini bodybuilder—biceps popping, his slight build suddenly packing ridiculous muscle. It was wild, to say the least.

Paul, thrown by the change, froze as Roya's sword lashed toward him, slicing the air with blistering speed. But in a heartbeat, Paul snapped to—parrying with a horizontal block, grabbing Roya's sword arm with his right hand, and flipping him over his shoulder in a textbook back throw.

Roya slammed into the ground, clutching his backside. "Dad, you cheated!" he roared. "We said swords only—why'd you use your hands?"

Paul's face went pink as he sputtered, "T-That's a Water God style move! Just a counter trick!"

Even he was floored. This kid, barely two years into training, had pushed him to pull out a second style.