A/N: Hello there! I invite you to this new chapter! Thank you for all your kudos and follows as always. And, as always, hope you enjoy it!
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"You see Rudy, there are three schools of swordsmanship most handy." His father explained with a serious face during their time in the yard, "The Sword God Style. The Water God Style. And lastly, the North God Style."
Humans in this world have grown addicted to tying 'god' with everything, haven't they? Merlin mused jokingly, listening to the lecture, "Which one is Father's favorite I wonder?"
"Not now," Paul cut him off, "First of all, let me explain the main points of these styles. It will make it easier to understand for you at a later date, okay Rudy?"
Seeing his son nod, Paul continued, "The North God Style is mainly used to stay alive all the while tricking the opponent. Yeah, I know how that sounds. This style consists of calculated movements to best conserve the user's energy. When engaging with a user of this style, you must remain focused on him and your surroundings." Paul pointed his sword at the nearby surroundings.
"That's because its practitioners often take up what's around to give them an advantage. Running around, jumping, and even sneaking. Being prepared that your opponent will have a better physique than you is fundamental. In other words, they try to wear you out."
"Meanwhile, the Water God Style is designed to smoothly parry the attacks without losing balance and focus. It's the ultimate form of defensive used for reading the movements and responding to them."
"Hmm. Father uses mostly the last one, isn't he? The Sword God Style, that is."
"Huh." Paul blinked slowly, surprised enough to widen his eyes, "How do you know?"
"Well," Merlin smiled brilliantly, "Whenever I came home with Mother, Father would be seen from the window. His attacks were strong and fast and since the previous two styles do not have these characteristics it must be the last one. Is that correct? The last style focuses on attacks intending to end the fight quickly."
"That's right." His father sounded proud, "The Sword God Style is aggressive and agile. It's popular because it's easy to overpower amateurs and low-rank adventurers. Also, it's a death sentence for people who can't engage in close combat."
"So you employ this one the best?"
"Not only that. I am partially wielding the Water God Style like the North God Style. It's needed to have both good attack and defense. Knowing the terrain is also helpful. Being in my previous party, I had to fend off monsters, but more than that. Bandits are a common sight in dangerous areas. Cutting a monster straight you might, but a human opponent is no longer that easy."
His father then tossed him a wooden sword Merlin reluctantly picked up, waving it around for a while and acquainting himself with its handle. Frankly, he preferred to spend his free time learning new magic instead. Yesterday was not enough time for him to go beyond the fundamentals. Merlin was one of the most excellent magus so he felt like a fresh fish in water.
"Rudy is ready? Let's start!" The excitement was apparent.
A spar of father and son, the family bonding moment. A win-win situation for Merlin was to learn the sword from his parent, hopefully with an interesting lesson realized in sound steps. That's how he expected it to happen. Paul Greyrat teaching his reincarnated son.
Or it should have been.
Paul came right at him, leaving the wind in his previous position and ignoring any rules of self-restraint one might have had when attacking a child. He didn't even consider the necessary force to use. Merlin didn't even have time to think about his predicament and parried the attack menacing from above by vertically aligning his blade. Merlin breathed the necessary air, feeling the hot air hissing at him, informing him anteriorly of his father's intentions.
Everything spun fast. A direct hit almost reached the magus as he ducked under the blade, the sun momentary blinding him.
Doesn't he know of self-preservation!? Merlin yelped internally and gritted his teeth. Parrying the next blow by altering its trajectory, he got a little break. Underdeveloped muscles suffering from the harsh treatment for the first time, a thing he was painfully aware of. The boy took advantage of whatever little time he had, planning his options.
It wouldn't do him any good to meet consecutive strikes head-on, parrying was optional due to redirecting the force of the attack in a different direction, feeling the wood, let alone blocking through it, he would end up with fractured bones.
Paul may not have taken him seriously, but he certainly didn't hold back on applying force. The only thing Merlin had left was the experience he couldn't fully use. His examination was jammed with anticipation of the movements of the blade seeking to knock him out. A mix of anticipation and fear pulsed through the wizard's veins as the sword glided through the air to hit his neck, the blade striking nothing but air. Merlin manipulated the wind and accelerated his body to meet the soil, battered boots straining the dirt as the distance was extended.
"Magic!?" His father roared with a furious expression. There was a wind of pause between the two opponents, "You use tricks during battle, Rudy!? You are better than that!" His words caused a pang of something dark in Merlin's gut. They stung more than expected as Merlin began feeling genuine frustration.
"It helps with battle."
"Is that it? Is this what you have been teaching yourself in hiding!?" The utter dissatisfaction with Merlin permeates the words. No longer was his father just sparing opponent. He was an enemy of magic at this moment. That's how Merlin defined it, "How to puff wind!?"
His small fingers tightened around the hilt, "Let's make a bet then." He proposed.
"A bet, you say? What can I win?" Paul grew curious, clearly interested in the prize. He seemed oblivious to the situation.
"The bet is whether I hit you once while sparring. If I win you will admit that magic is better than sword art and help me with my magic training. If you win then I will only practice the sword with you from now on."
Paul chortled audibly, "Then I'm gonna get serious. No way I miss this chance! Be ready for loss!"
"Let it be magic versus sword!" Merlin challenged humorlessly and Paul agreed wholeheartedly with the clang of his sword. His father told him to prepare his blade and both moved. Paul and Merlin didn't waste a second. The magus started reinforcing his body by infusing calculated previously mana. The magic gave a cry of approval, and Merlin pre-intended the utility of several spells on the move.
Tricks and methods of distraction were a necessity if he wanted to deal at least one blow to Paul. Merlin took a sharp inhalation of air as everything went into orchestrated chaos. Paul disappeared from his spot, emerging lunging at his chest. Merlin took advantage of his miniature body and rolled to the side, stretching out his arm followed by Paul's legs being riddled with clumped earth.
Whatever Paul was expecting next, it wasn't a massive sphere of flame rushing his way. He didn't anticipate such an attack from his three-year-old son. Pride and a sense of challenge ignited in his soul. The man's eyes shrank and sharpened while his body began to emit an invisible aura. In a fluid motion, he raised his sword and moments later cut the fire in half, successively making the attack ripple to his sides.
Merlin grew familiar with the sensation, scanning the aura Paul was giving off he couldn't believe his senses, He agrees it's magic versus swordplay, and yet he reinforces himself so well!? Then, he saw Paul effortlessly burst through the drawback covering his legs, "RUDY!" Roaring and making movements with his sword that even Merlin had a hard time following, his art was undoubtedly beautiful.
Merlin imbued the surroundings with mana, preparing for the next stage. The water gathered between his palms before the vortex was released into the air, spinning around wildly and making a hissing sound. The magus coated it with a layer of angry wind then let it accelerate even further. The almost limitless might of the mysteries showed its potential. The control was successful. Everything happened in less than a second, the calculated time Paul got close.
It was truly remarkable, this man could quietly become a powerful knight with just speed and a combination of different styles. At that moment, Merlin's concentration focused solely on the man's form. His eyes widened when the older Greyrat accelerated his movement and Merlin panicked momentarily, releasing his hold too early. Startled by this, Paul tilted his head and let the spell fly further, making an astonished face when the ground was drilled behind his back.
"Rudy, you...!" Sweat began to pour off Merlin as he fired himself at the man, sword in hand as pure mana gathered in the other, radiating menacingly like a dark star. Whatever remnants of foresight Merlin had channeled them into an improvisation that vaulted into a confused formula. An almost despairing intention per use of escaping time remained in the wizard's mind. The remnant of his face closed in a thin line as Paul flawlessly disabled his thrust and deflected the mana blast to the side.
With his movement losing momentum, Merlin was easily pushed back to his previous stance. His expression grew alarmed when the feeling of numbness crept up his legs and arms. That's not good enough, this body is not designed for such aggressive actions. An exhausted gasp escaped his lips as he stumbled. Merlin prepared to meet the ground when a firm hold caught him in mid-air.
"Rudy, that's enough." Paul called out with a steely look the boy had never seen, a certain air of gravity encircling him, "Let's end it here."
"The bet—"
"I'm breaking the bet!" His tone was final, the hands holding Merlin almost shaking, "I got ahead of myself. You are barely standing. I should have stopped the moment you looked out of it."
It's true, what Paul said, this body was still that of a three-year-old human boy. In no way was it healthy for him to push that far. His father saw this and decided it was enough.
"Can you... Can you heal yourself?" Paul hesitantly asked, obviously not wanting to inform Zenith of this incident. His wife's wrath is a terrifying thing to look forward to. And neither wanted Merlin.
"I can try!" Merlin says consolingly, "The things mentioned in the book should be enough!"
"T-that's good." Merlin ignored the stuttering and got down to work. Imbuing his hand with mana and pouring forth the intent behind it. A soft pink light instead of green coated his fingertips as he brought them closer to the places of discomfort. The shower of pleasant sensations washed over him, Merlin feeling the relief his body was experiencing. The pain in his limbs faded when it was all done.
"It's over?" His father had a surprised face.
"Aaand healed~" Merlin tried to stand up and tripped when his legs protested. Paul who was by his side immediately intervened.
"Rudy?"
"It's fine. I will be back full force before the sundown." They stayed like this for a while, waiting together as Paul seated himself.
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"I'm sorry Rudy had to go through that. It's my fault for overlooking."
"Nah, as I said, it's fine! You don't have to apologize. When agreeing to this I already prepared myself for this possibility."
"What, how? You expected this to happen?"
"Well, not exactly that. Father seemed like the sort of person to lose himself in the thrill of battle."
"That's wrong," Paul said with a dejected tone, finally understanding the ignorance of his own actions.
Merlin stood up in response and shook off the dust, "I had my fun so it's a good thing, isn't it? You were really strong back there. There is no way I could keep up!"
"Somehow I feel like a bad parent while Rudy is like a good kid."
"Father is not a villain parent material at all."
"Even when you say that..."
Merlin hummed, waiting for this conversation to reach its peak.
"I... It's difficult to be a father. I'm trying my best but still..." Paul spoke abruptly, images seemed to flash in his green eyes. Moments of his youth that Merlin did not know. He was searching for words, that much was clear from the silence that followed.
"Just because you are older doesn't mean it's not hard." Merlin rephrased to help and Paul smiled sadly at these words, "But we must not fret, the time of this passes as it goes on. The world wouldn't be a challenge then, right?" The magus tried to show the positive, "Warriors like you have to keep fighting."
"Hehe." The man chuckled dryly at the sage-like line, "The case is, sometimes I don't feel like Rudy's father. He appears so perfect all the time so I find it hard to puzzle together."
The boy flinched, his smile fading upon recalling similar words from his mother, "Father..." The serene voice became somehow rasped.
"But you know, I was happy when my words upset you. It gave me the idea that Rudy is still just a kid I can annoy." The words regarding childish magic tricks were nothing more than a provocation to fill Paul's ego with conviction.
"I'm glad." The man grinned and stood straight, sunlight shining at his form, "That my words had affected you. I lied previously! I know how important magic is on the battlefield. Using mana to harden muscles or sharpen a sword is a basic ability when practicing sword styles."
He resumed, "That's why, when we were fighting, I was shocked Rudy managed it on the first shot. My son is truly a genius! - I thought."
If only you knew. Merlin thought silently, odd somberness settling in his stomach.
"You are right, though, magic is also needed in battle. Regardless of the bet, there is no mistaking it. You have a great talent at magic Rudy, even better than with a sword. To think my son can shoot fire and water spells at this age. Zenith will be happiest, I think. She always praised Rudy for being special."
"What do you propose?"
Paul grinned like a shark, "Let's make it a promise. I'm going to help you with Zenith and magic. And you return the favor by training in swordsmanship. Is that alright?
This was more than just alright. It was delightful to hear for his ears!
"Thank you, Father! However, there is a matter. There is only one book on magic at home." The usefulness of the textbook is reaching its end, "I need something more than that. Perhaps there is a way to go into town?"
"You found that old thing? Hmm, Rudy, I don't think this is a good idea. Zenith would be mad at me if I took you somewhere like that. The towns are now full of frauds and kidnappers. Maybe..."
"Then...?"
After his persuasion, Paul decided to speak with Mother about this.
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His mother agreed after seeing Merlin effortlessly conjuring intermediate spells. Bearing this lost look on her beautiful face for a second it was gone as soon as it appeared. Zenith started jumping happily and talking about how her son was talented.
Merlin still wondered if he should worry there would be rumors about what a talented aspiring mage he was. But in the end, it's just a shot of dopamine to meet his eventual upbringing.
Proof of his existence, he had to carve it out in this world. A new chapter in the history of Magus of Flowers will unmistakably begin here. Perhaps this time with a different fate.
Merlin formed a small smile.
"Maybe we could hire a tutor?" His mother, Zenith, pondered after they discussed all the dangers. A home tutor would be the simplest solution, and judging their character should be easy for both parents. The moment they try something with their child, there will be no mercy.
"Rudy is talented so the tutor should be the best. So there will be no need for me to enter the town to get books when the tutor shows him the fundamentals."
Paul chided in, promising his support before, "Rudy already knows the fundaments. I saw him doing that today dear. He easily cast spells like no newbie."
Zenith raised a brow at this, "It's weird seeing you so taken with this." She sounded suspicious.
His father chuckled nervously at the look his wife was sending, "What can I say? Rudy said he wanted to be just as good at magic as in swords. How could I refuse?"
With their constant arguments, Zenith sighed lightly and smiled warmly at them, "It's not like I wanted to deny anyway. Rudy is a good boy so I would help as much as I can, you know?" She let her body be embraced by Paul.
With this ending, it was determined that Merlin would receive a tutor as soon as possible. Since Paul was a person of some importance in the village, there should be no problem finding the correct teacher shortly. Being a defender of the village earned some perks it seems. That's what Merlin thought at least.
There was only one person in the household of whom Merlin had no opinion. Amethyst eyes sharpened. The maid concealed behind the wall in the other room, breathing heavily and eavesdropping on their conversation.
The maid of the household, Lilia.
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"After I became a king, you shall stay by my side?" An innocent voice asked.
"Of course! Being a king requires someone in the role of a court magus as well! There is no better candidate than me!" In an obvious tone, the man in white declared.
"Very well. I await our time together." His pupil smiled brightly, not understanding the weight she was burdened with. So young and naive.
And yet, he smiled back.
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"Where is Merlin?"
The face, one that was frighteningly alike, stared back with cold eyes.
"Gone."
A sharp inhale was heard, "You! What have you done?!"
"The cunning snake is no more, blinded by his own folly. Trapped in a place he shall not escape."
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Through the veil separating the world, pink petals danced. The wizard watched impassively as his king's face cracked at the realization.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you have a great day! While writing this chapter, I thought writing the battle would be difficult. Actually, it was difficult 0;0 Seriously, writing a battle scene is tiring but I hope it didn't come out the worst guys.