Continue On, Struggler. | Chapter Eight, Sudden Change. (Part One)

…

As expected, after Guts explained what happened between him and Sylphie, Roxy jumped on the opportunity to make the girl her student. Literally. She had been sitting on the ground at the time but sprung up to her feet when he told her. Like a startled cat. He couldn't help chuckling. Never, in all their years of knowing each other, had he seen the Migurd move so fast.

However, all of Roxy's excitement got stomped out pretty quickly. Near instantly. Because, when he brought Sylphie to her the next day, the magician let out a shrill shriek and ran to hide behind a tree. All the while muttering something about the girl being a "Superd."

Roxy's genuine fear left Guts at a loss at first, especially when the half-elf proved to be so painfully un-intimidating. Still, Sylphie quickly explained that it's happened to her before: people having that sort of reaction upon first meeting her. Apparently, it had something to do with her hair—which was the same shade of green as the Superd, a tribe of demons who "did a lot of bad things a long time ago" and so "everyone hated them."

Guts took that to mean one thing: "a lot of people are dead because of them."

It was the only conclusion that made sense, really. What else could explain Roxy reacting like that? She wasn't just scared of the little girl—there was genuine terror in her. Just at the mere possibility of her being a Superd. Her. Roxy. The Migurd. A Saint-tier Water Magician. Demonfolk herself. Yet she's the one who went running and screaming. Yeah, the Superd were killers. There was no doubt in his mind about that.

It ended up not mattering in the end. When Roxy stopped screaming, Sylphie was able to explain that she didn't have an ounce of Superd blood in her—something the Migurd realized herself when she noted the lack of a red gem on the half-elf's forehead: another defining trait of the infamous demon tribe. So, eventually, Roxy calmed and offered her services as a magic tutor.

That, however, led to a conversation about how the magician would be compensated.

"A-Ah, I'm sorry for not telling you about this earlier, Miss Roxy, but m-my family… We… We're not like Rudy's family," Sylphie explained, never meeting the Migurd's gaze. "We don't have a lot of money. I don't think we'd be able to pay you."

As expected, Roxy waved off her concerns. Told her that being able to cast spells without incantations would be payment enough. And that, even if she wasn't able to learn how to do so herself, she considered learning how a child managed such a feat just as valuable.

"Consider this the first lesson I impart upon you as your teacher," Roxy said at the time, her eyes closed and finger raised. Guts smirked. He couldn't help it. She was so obviously showing off, trying to make herself out to be the cool and collected type. "Money isn't the only thing people see value in. Most of the time, it all comes down to what you're able to do, and what others can't."

Sylphie's eyes grew wide, then glazed a little with tears. She pursed her lips, then smiled. Softly, and despite the tears. As if she just then realized what that meant.

"T-Thank you, Miss Roxy!" She said, bowing her head. "I'll try not to let you down!"

And, just like that, Guts got himself a new classmate.

…

In the meantime, Guts got better with the sword. That was no real surprise, though. Most of the motions were already ingrained in his brain. All he had to do now was get his new body up to snuff.

Regardless of the truth of the subject, Paul seemed to take pride in his progress—totally convinced that his son was some sort of prodigy. Not just with a blade, but with magic as well. Honestly, a part of him wondered why his parents were so accepting of that fact. Of course, it wasn't like they had a reason to suspect his true origins, but the lack of any and all suspicion felt odd. Like they were willingly turning a blind eye to it. But then again, maybe that was the sort of obvious thing that pride made you blind to.

Eh, whatever. In the end, Guts didn't think it was worth complaining about. He just found it odd.

His parents still treated him like a kid his age and that's all that mattered to him. Zenith played the affectionate mother and Paul tried to be the stern father, and sometimes they traded places, but really, they seemed content to just let him be a kid. On the other hand, Lilia seemed to know that something wasn't completely right with him, though; but from the looks of it, she didn't seem to hate him or anything. She might've just thought he was weird.

Not that any of that meant his life was free from all talks of his future. He had that talk with Zenith years ago, but every once in a while, Paul would ask him questions like: "Tell me, Rudy. What do you want to do when you grow up?" or "What do you like more? Swinging a sword or using magic?"

Today's question, though, was different.

"So, I heard something interesting from Laws today," Paul said, leaning forwards onto his practice sword so their eyes would meet. Guts, exhausted from sparring, had opted to sit; whereas, his father stayed up on his feet. Looking down on him.

He snorted. Then, asked, "Yeah, what's that?"

"That he's seen you hanging out with his daughter a lot as of late. That true?"

Guts narrowed his eyes at that. "Yeah? I guess you could say that. Why? Does it matter?"

"Oh, not really."

Bullshit.

"It's just that, y'know, he's not the only one I've heard it from," Paul said, smirking.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Hmph, that right?" Guts asked, eyeing his father skeptically. "From who exactly?"

"From Roxy, for one. Now that I think about it, she's mentioned Sylphiette a lot too. Hm… Wonder why that might be?"

Guts rolled his eyes. "Okay, I get it already. Roxy told you about what happened. Why's it matter?"

"Not quite getting it, huh? Guess there are things you don't understand, after all."

Guts frowned. He didn't like where this conversation was going. He especially didn't like the dopey smile his father had either. It pretty much guaranteed that he was being made fun of.

"I figured that you might've been doing it on purpose since you are my son and all, but it looks like it might just come naturally for us Greyrats."

"Huh?" Guts was at a complete loss now. He didn't have a single clue as to what his father was getting at. Paul was making it seem like there was some sort of grand observation to be had when there really wasn't. They were just two kids hanging out with one another. Nothing more, nothing less. "What're you…?"

"I don't know if you know this or not, but your father was a real hit with the ladies back in his day." His dopey smile grew even wider as he went on, "And since you are my son, I just figured that you might've been helping the girl out for a reason."

Suddenly—violently—his father's face looked a lot more punchable.

The implication disgusted him. To the core, it disgusted him. So bad it made him want to hurl. Stab needles into his ears, even. As long as it'd let him un-hear what just came out of his father's mouth.

Reborn into a new body or not, he was still a grown man on the inside and Sylphie was a child through and through….

Now, to be fair, that wasn't something Paul could've ever known. Honestly, that was the only thing keeping Guts from decking the man outright. Still, when the two of them got back to sparring, he figured that he was well within his rights to try and hit him good somewhere.

It was the least he deserved, honestly.

…

Roxy's hand fell to her waist, her staff in hand and stagnant. She let out a heavy sigh. Her shoulders slumped and her face contorted into a kid-like pout. Overall, everything about her screamed defeat.

"Looks like it's no good."

Guts nodded and hummed in agreement, not knowing what else to say.

"P-Please don't give up, Miss Roxy…" Sylphie did her best to lift their teacher's spirits, but her voice betrayed her. The truth was hard to deny now. "It took me some time to get the hang of it too! You'll get it, I'm sure! You just gotta keep trying!"

Guts eyed Sylphie pointedly, knowing she just made a big mistake. He'd known Roxy for years now and so, he knew she'd take the girl's reassurances as pity—and pity wasn't the sort of thing she responded well to. Her pride, which most days stood taller than she did, wouldn't allow it.

"…N-No, it's alright, Sylphie," Roxy said, a lie so obvious that it made Guts shut his eyes in embarrassment. Her voice was so strained—her face was so defeated—that it looked like she was a mean word away from throwing herself off the nearest cliff. And, honestly, he wouldn't have blamed her at this point. "Most master magicians don't know how to do it either, so it's really no big deal if I can't."

Damn, you really aren't fooling anyone….

To sum up how things got to this point, Roxy couldn't use chantless magic.

Sylphie explained the process to the best of her ability and Roxy tried for weeks to get it right, but it was clear now that her efforts would take her nowhere.

Now, that usually wouldn't have been too big of a deal. Like Roxy said, there were only a handful of people who could do it in the first place, so her not being one of the rare few was fine. However, and this was unfortunate for her and her self-confidence, it took Guts less than a day to figure it out himself—meaning that, despite dwarfing her students in both age and experience, she was the odd one out.

In all honesty, in his opinion, the whole process was pretty simple once he had it all laid out for him.

Basically, and this took some help from Roxy to make it coherent, all Sylphie needed to do was imagine a Water Ball forming in her hand and it did. Something that seemed simple, but really wasn't.

Guts knew this because, after his own first few attempts, he fared no better than Roxy. However, his magic tutor suggested he try and cast Fireball instead, which confused him at first. But then, he remembered her lectures on affinity schools and the fact that he was terrible at casting Water magic. So, he tried to imagine a ball of fire forming in hand—an act that brought back memories of his old arm cannon. Then, as if a level was flipped, the gears in his mind started turning and he felt heat course through his body, into his hand. He recognized the sensation. It was the same as when he'd cast with a chant. That's when he opened his eyes and found a bright, little sliver of a flame burning in the palm of his hand.

And, just like that, Guts knew how to do something Roxy couldn't. Something she'd never be able to do if the last few weeks were any indication.

Honestly, that made him feel pretty good—about himself and about his magic in general. Frankly, when he first started learning it, he didn't think it was something he'd get much use out of. Useful to have if he ever needed fire or water, for sure. The same went for the healing spells Zenith promised to teach him at some point. That said, the fact was that he was still a swordsman by nature. And, be it habit or instinct, a swordsman never strayed too far from their opponent.

He'd seen magic used in his past life. Seen its power. Schierke had saved their group with it more than times he could count—he'd never deny that—but she needed time to cast it. Lots of time. And effort too. Not just from her, but from the rest of the group as well. He'd never be afforded those luxuries. He'd be in the thick of things. Always. That meant that, once a fight got going, his magic was always going to be useless.

Now, though, Guts found a way to put it to use. And, ever since then, his head raced from the possibilities.

He basically had a more versatile version of his hand cannon. One that didn't need to be reloaded after every shot and could shoot everything from balls of fire to gusts of wind to rocks the size of his head. Add in all of the ways he could use his magic to enhance his swordsmanship and, suddenly, he had a reason to look forward to his lessons with Roxy.

"Alright—" Without warning, Roxy clapped her hands together once, and all of a sudden, the Migurd was back to her usual self. Stoic and expressionless. "—that's enough of that, I think. How about we get started on today's lesson?" And ready to teach. "Sylphie?"

"Ready!" Unsurprisingly, the half-elf's mood brightened right alongside her.

"Rudy?"

Guts nodded.

"Good." Roxy nodded back. "I figured we'd start where we left off yesterday…."

…

Sylphie had changed at some point. It was something Guts realized one day without ever really meaning to.

"Those guys…" Sylphie grumbled, glaring down at the mud of her shirt. The two of them were at their usual spot, winding down after their lesson with Roxy. They spent that time like they usually did; Guts practiced with his sword and Sylphie with her magic. Although, now, it seemed like the dirt on her shirt was her main focus. "It's been months and they still won't leave us alone."

Somal and his lackeys had been the ones who put them there. It was just something those dumbasses did every once in a while: stomping up to them, picking a fight, and losing. No punches ever got thrown, though. Just a lot of name-calling and sometimes mud-slinging. So, Guts was always hesitant to think of them as actual fights. As insults and balls of mud went, he could deal with those just fine. The little girl with him, though…. Well, at least she actually threw things back now.

Guts shrugged. Not to say he was indifferent to the fact. Their little pissing contests got in the way of his training, after all. But if he did any actual damage to the kids, they'd run to their parents, who'd give Paul an earful. Then, Paul would probably give him an earful in return for escalating things and that'd be even more annoying than having his training interrupted. So, all in all, he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. Besides, those mud balls were good for practicing Water-God techniques.

"I wish I could be more like you, Rudy." The girl's words were paired with a heavy sigh. Guts, still focused on training, watched her sit and pull her knees into her chest from the edge of his vision. "Stuff like this doesn't bother you at all."

"Yeah, and? It bother you or something?"

Sylphie nodded and hid her head behind her knees.

"Why? It's not like they ever actually do anything."

"Still, I dunno…. It just makes me really mad, I guess? L-Like, whenever I see Somal now, I feel like going up to him and just… well, y'know."

"And what's the problem with that?" Guts asked while taking a step forwards and letting loose a downward swing. "It's not like he wouldn't deserve it."

"I-I guess, but being that mad at somebody is bad, right? At least, that's what my parents told me when I was little. That I shouldn't ever hit someone because they made me mad."

"That right? Well, what if Somal hit you first? Or, what if he said something mean about your parents and that's what got you mad? Would it be wrong to hit him then?" He asked, swinging again. "I mean, didn't you already do something like that with me?"

"N-no! That was different!"

"How?"

"That— I-I mean, I wasn't trying to hurt you then! I just—"

"—You, what? Wanted to make me feel bad? How's that any different?"

The question gave Sylphie pause, telling Guts all that he needed to know. She never even considered it. Not once. Not ever.

Guts snorted. "Just because our parents say something, doesn't mean it's always right."

"I… I guess that's true." Sylphie folded easily. Too easily for his liking. That was basically the same as her saying she disagreed but didn't have the spine to stand by it. Whatever, he thought. Sometimes he forgot he was speaking to an eight-year-old girl—an eight-year-old girl who had basically spent her whole life glued to her parents' side because of the color of her hair. She would figure out that he was right eventually. She just had to grow up a little more— "E-Even then, I still think you're wrong."

Huh?

"I still think hitting people is—"

Her answer caught him off guard. And, having already started taking another swing, the momentum and weight of his practice sword caused him to stumble. Not enough to make him fall flat on his face, but enough to be noticeable.

"—Ah, are you okay?!"

Guts cursed as he stood back upright.

"I'm fine," he said while waving the girl off, who had stood up to check on him. "You just caught me off-guard."

"Ah, I did?"

"That's what I said, didn't I?"

It was true too. She did surprise him.

"Oh… Did I say something wrong?"

Guts shook his head and got back into a swinging stance.

The girl did have a backbone, it seemed. Honestly, it was refreshing to see the girl use it every once in a while.

…

Zenith was pregnant.

The news didn't surprise Guts. Zenith and Paul had been trying for another baby since he was born. Or, at least, that's what the noises seeping through the walls at night told him. Honestly, with how often they went at it, the time it took in between felt more surprising than the pregnancy itself.

He was going to be eight in a matter of months. For a young couple like them—who went at it basically every night, it felt like—one would think a second baby would come pretty easily for them, but the opposite turned out to be true. He even caught Zenith muttering and sighing about it every once in a while.

Then, about a month ago, his mother started changing.

Guts spent most of his past life in the company of mercenaries, so he had no idea how to tell if a woman was pregnant until it became obvious. So, when the first symptoms came: the tiredness, the vomiting, and the sudden change in how she ate—he honestly thought she was just sick. A trip to the city later, however, proved him wrong.

So, Zenith was pregnant. His mother was going to have another child. That meant that he was going to be an older brother soon.

The Greyrat family was going to get another member soon….

…Not that it mattered to him. That just meant there would be another person living with them in nine months. No big deal, really. At the very least, it'd give his mother someone else to dote on. He didn't dislike her at all, but he was well past the age where he needed to be babied.

Regardless, the rest of the family jumped into action at the news. Preparation for its birth started as soon as Zenith got back. "Boy or girl?" Possible names. Those were the sort of things that came up first. Then, Roxy asked if she should move out to make room for it. It went on and on from there.

Things were changing, rapidly and with great excitement.

That all came to a halt a month later.

…

Chapter End.