Chapter 25 - Spar

(MC POV)

Inside the Academy, what greeted me and Rimuru was the sight of a modern yet traditionally prestigious and innovative building, designed to make otherworlders feel more at home.

While I didn't feel much, the same couldn't be said for Rimuru, who was a true otherworlder. Unlike me, he looked around excitedly, clearly happy to see architecture reminiscent of his old world.

This confused me. Even with my omniscience, which lets me know almost anything, I couldn't understand why he wanted to bring technology into this world. Sure, the technology is good and all, but it would destroy the fantasy setting. Why does he want to change this world into something like his old one?

Whatever it is I don't really care. After I leave, I probably won't return, so let him do what he wants whether it's destroying the world or whatever else.

"Rimuru, if you're finished, we should go meet with Shizu. She's probably already waiting."

He made a small sound, collecting himself and saying, "Sorry, I just got a little nostalgic."

I shrugged and started walking toward her presence, leaving Rimuru behind.

***

(Alexander POV)

From the moment I decided to take matters into my own hands, I've been training with my teacher, whose name is still unknown to me.

The past days have elevated my strength to levels I never thought was possible. My progress has skyrocketed, but despite my satisfaction, my teacher has never praised me for it.

With my newfound strength, I can finally spar with him. The technique he taught me is extremely effective in all situations, whether against crowds or in solo combat. Every attack pushes my body to its limits, making each strike sharp and equally fast.

But I still can't defeat him. Even the smallest mistake leads to my immediate loss, leaving me no time to react. While his teachings are exceptional, I still use my free time to train my skills and magic.

As of now, I'm confident I could defeat Luminous and Zephaniah. The only reason I can't win against my teacher is that I'm limited to using only what he taught me.

But today I was confident, I head to my teacher to challenge him one last time before recruiting others to join me.

Five minutes later, I arrive at the door leading to the training room. Standing there, I inhale deeply, filling my lungs to the limit before calming down and exhaling. Then, I step inside.

As I enter, my eyes lock with my master's. He stands there, sword in hand, his gaze calm but intense. His face is obscured by a thick black fog, making it impossible to read his expression, but two glowing red pupils pierce through the darkness, watching me intently. It's as if he's been waiting for me

But there's something different about him today even though he isn't radiating any aura as always, the sense of danger is palpable, emanating from his stillness.

Without exchanging a word, I move to the other side of the room, where a lone sword lies waiting for me. I pick it up, its weight familiar in my grip, and bow in his direction. I understand this will be our final spar, and that knowledge makes my heart race. Slowly, I adopt a stance that mirrors his, every muscle in my body coiled in anticipation.

He says nothing. Instead, he pulls out a golden coin, holding it between his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, he tosses it into the air. It spins, reflecting the dim light of the room, and time seems to stretch as we both watch it rise and fall.

The moment it hits the ground with a sharp 'click' I start by dashing forward, sword aimed directly at him.

But he doesn't move not even a flinching. My blade slices through the air, but before it can connect, his sword flashes with a speed almost too fast to follow. Sparks fly as steel meets steel, the impact sending a shockwave up my arm.

I grit my teeth, pushing harder, trying to break through his defense. He parries effortlessly, deflecting each of my strikes as if he knows exactly where I'll aim before I do. His movements are minimal and precise. Every opening I try to exploit is shut down before it even begins.

Frustration grows within me, but I push it aside. I can't afford to lose focus at least against him. My master's eyes

...those piercing red pupils in the fog still remain calm, watching my every move, as though he's still teaching me, even now.

With a quick spin, I change my angle and aim low, going for his legs. But again, he anticipates it, stepping back just enough to evade before lunging forward, his sword coming dangerously close to my chest. I barely manage to deflect it, the force of the blow pushing me back a step.

He presses his advantage, his strikes coming faster now, each one more difficult to block than the last. My breath comes in short bursts, sweat dripping down my forehead. I feel my strength waning, and he knows it.

But I won't give up and never planed to give up.

I take a deep breath, centering myself, and then I see it the faintest weakening in his next move. It's small, almost imperceptible, but it's enough. I shift my weight and parry his next strike with all the strength I have left, forcing his sword to the side.

Without hesitation, I move in close, closing the distance between us in a single step. My sword presses against his, pushing him back just enough for me to break free from his control. His red pupils widen for a fraction of a second showing a sign that I've finally caught him off guard.

With a final, desperate swing, I knock his sword from his hand, the blade clattering to the floor. I step back, panting, my sword still raised but trembling in my grip.

My master looks at me, his expression unreadable behind the black fog, but then he nods at me with a small, almost imperceptible sign of approval.

I've won the spar while barely I did it.

But even then I know this victory wasn't truly mine and the reasons I won was only because he allowed me to win

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A/N: I have nothing to say this time just the habit to add my note

Words 1079

Your bored author Yqm_