Control

"Back straight, legs bent, chin raised! If I catch you slacking off, it's a rod to the shoulder...!"

Gritting his teeth, Paul did his best to stay focused even as his eyes stung from the thick layer of sweat dripping from his brows and body. Reida had him don a pair of stone clubs, each weighing 50kg, before instructing him to stand in a circle populated by mechanical training dummies. Instead of asking him to strike them, however, Reida forced him to squat down, clubs held out to the sides, as the dummies, rudimentary golems, whirred to life. His objective was to prevent the six-limbed mannequins from coming into contact with himself or the stone clubs, a task that was easier said than done as their individual segments spun at varying speeds and directions.

"Fuck...!"

Though he was doing his best to read the movements of the dummies, Paul's arms felt like they were on the verge of dislocating after holding out the tip-heavy stone maces for several minutes. While this might not sound like an exceptionally long period of time, it was a fucking nightmare when a raven-haired psychopath was waiting to smack you with a banded wooden rod every time you attempted to shake off the tension in your joints.

Seeing the tip of Paul's club rebound as it was struck by a mannequin, a fierce gleam flashed across Reida's eyes as she shouted, "Weak...!" in an audibly excited tone. At the same time, she effortlessly weaved between the whirling arms of the mannequins, her hand tightening around the grip of her rod as she attempted to strike Paul's left shoulder. He was allowed to dodge, but she always made sure to attack from a direction that would force him towards one of the rotating dummies.

Feeling his scalp tingle, Paul turned his body and stepped into the path of a mannequin, attempting to slip through to the other side before it could complete a revolution. He very nearly made it, but one of the mannequin's arms ended up striking the stone mace trailing behind him.

"That makes two...!"

Flipping over both Paul and the mannequin, Reida effectively cut off his path of retreat before striking both of his shoulders with measured but lightning-fast strikes. The look he gave her was like a starving beast that had just stumbled across a fat lamb, but she just smiled and backstepped through the gap between two mannequins without even looking.

While resolving himself to fuck Reida's brains out the first chance he got, Paul continued the hellish training for nearly a half-hour before the magic crystals powering the pseudo-golems ran out of juice. However, before he could even think to try and recuperate, Reida tossed him a pair of wooden swords and said, "That should do for a warm-up. For the next hour or two, you'll hold your ground as you try to deflect and parry my attacks. You're allowed to move your feet, but you can't leave that circle."

Using her wooden sword, Reida pointed to a painted white circle that was around 50cm in diameter. An adult of average height and build stood with their feet roughly 35-42cm apart when standing casually, so Paul wouldn't even be able to get into a proper stance while confined to such a tiny space.

"..."

Resisting the urge to complain and call bullshit, Paul made his way over to the circle with a resolute expression on his face. He had decided to spend these next five months improving his swordsmanship, so, even if it turned out Reida was just fucking with him, he intended to take it seriously.

Nodding her head in approval, Reida began to walk clockwise around Paul as she revealed, "As absurd as this may sound, your physique is actually better than mine. The heaviest boulder I can lift is around 700kgs, so your ability to raise over a thousand is nothing short of ridiculous..."

Having completed a full circle, Reida stared into the depths of Paul's eyes as she added, "What you lack, more than anything else, is experience and control. You spend too much time thinking, and your mastery over Touki is a complete joke. If you didn't have such excessive reserves, wearing your Touki as armor would completely exhaust you in minutes..."

As Touki placed an extreme burden on the body, most people only used it in small bursts, specifically during attack and defense. Paul was only the second person Reida had met who could wear their Touki for minutes at a time without collapsing. With the other being the second strongest being in the world, it wasn't an exaggeration to say that Paul could be a monster if he pushed his mastery to the limits.

Excited by the prospect of having a powerful opponent she could face at her leisure, Reida suppressed her slight envy as she said, "As I see it, you have two routes available to you. You can continue wearing your Touki like armor, focusing purely on defense, or you can master using it in small but powerful bursts to drastically increase your speed and power. Depending on your choice, we'll adjust our training accordingly."

Hearing Reida reference his reserves, Paul couldn't help asking, "Is there a way to determine how much Touki I have compared to other people...?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Reida replied, "You could look for someone with Demon Eyes of Power Perception. I've never met anyone that actually has them, but they can supposedly see the 'power level' of other people. It's a pretty worthless ability compared to other Demon Eyes, so, even if they chanced upon the Demon Empress, Kishirika Kishirisu, most people would ask for something different."

"Right..."

Though he would readily gouge out his left eye for such an ability, Paul could understand why others would pursue something else. Unless you were an Assassin or trying to avoid powerful foes, there was no practical use for being able to interpret another person's power level. Besides, just having a bigger number didn't mean you were guaranteed to win. Reida's words made it pretty obvious she had less overall Touki than him, but Paul couldn't even imagine defeating her at his current level...

"Hurry up and decide. If you want to focus on defense, I'm going to keep attacking you until your Touki runs out. If you're going to focus on control, I'll only attack periodically, but you're prohibited from using Touki until the moment my sword touches your body. As counterintuitive as that sounds, it's one of the best ways to use Touki for defense. The moment it spreads through your body, it creates a repulsive force that radiates outward. With proper timing, you can both deflect your opponent's attack and create an opening to exploit. Here, I'll give you a demonstration."

Holding out her hand, Reida made it pretty clear she wanted Paul to strike it with his sword. When he did, Reida's hand barely budged as a numbing sensation, similar to the feeling you would get when striking metal with a sledgehammer, ran up his arm.

Seeing the muscles of Paul's jaw flex, a teasing smile developed across Reida's face as she mused, "See what I mean? It takes a lot of practice and superior control, but it prevents you from simply wasting your Touki. Without it, the average Saint is no better than the average Intermediate Swordsman."

Demonstrating that even she didn't have perfect control, Reida shook out the numbness from her hand as she said, "To be perfectly honest, you're probably better off focusing purely on defense. With that purple-haired monster in your Party, even S-Rank monsters shouldn't give you too much trouble. You just need to focus on surviving and protecting the backline as a middle-guard tank. You are the literal 'heart' of your Party, so everything goes to shit if you fall."

Though she was unaware that the fate of two worlds hinged on Paul's survival, Reida could tell he was 'very' important to the other members of his Party. If he could become powerful enough that the others didn't feel the need to watch over him, his Party could become one of the greatest in history. Hell, they already had at least one God-Ranked individual in their ranks...

Freeing Reida from her wayward thoughts, Paul adopted a wry smile as he asked, "Is it possible to choose both...?"

Blinking back to awareness, a massive grin developed across Reida's face as she replied, "Sure. We'll just have to train you twice as hard. Just keep in mind this is still the Beginner-Rank menu for those chosen to inherit the position of Water God. Once we transition into the Advanced Rank training menu, there's a fair chance you'll suffer a breakdown if you're too greedy."

Leaving Reida feeling but unsurprised, Paul didn't even hesitate before nodding his head and saying, "That's fine. So long as I'm still alive at the end, I'll recover..." in a solemn tone.

Shaking her head in mock exasperation, a faint smile graced Reida's face as she softly mused, "Young and reckless..."

Without waiting for Paul to respond, Reida's right arm became a blur as she abruptly smacked him on the crown with her wooden sword. Things like starting signals didn't exist in active combat scenarios, so, even if it was a little mean-spirited of her, Reida intended to tor—train Paul until it was nearly impossible to catch him by surprise...

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As news of Paul becoming Reida's successor traveled beyond the walls of the Citadel, a fairly handsome man with sand-colored hair and dark-blue eyes could be seen glaring at the immaculate white structure from one of the Silver Palace's many balconies. He normally wore a smile that gave off the impression of a venomous snake, but his current demeanor was closer to that of a contemptuous God as he imagined himself tearing off the roof of the Citadel, plucking Paul from the inside, and crushing him like the bug he was.

Ignoring the fact he had dispatched a small army of assassins, the sandy-haired man, First Prince Grabell Zafin Asura, muttered, "Despicable cur...I gave you a chance to escape, yet you return to be a thorn in my side? Are you so inept that you simply can't fathom the terror that awaits you if you become the next Water God...?"

Though he probably wouldn't be able to get away with ordering Paul to slaughter his family, Grabell could already imagine the look of terror and desperation on his would-be rival's face as he was forced to torture and maim the members of his Party. Paul was known to collect beauties like they were flowers, so Grabell would have him 'pluck' each of their petals until nothing but stems remained...

Turning toward one of his Guardians, a similarly aged man with sleek black hair and square-rimmed glasses, Grabell commanded, "I am to be apprised of each of Paul Greyrat's activities. I want to know everyone he talks to, everywhere he goes, and even the food he eats. He may have the King's backing, but the same cannot be said for those he interacts with. If he shows so much as a hint of kindness to someone during his stay in the Capital, you are to capture them immediately. If their status proves to be an issue, contact their family and extend a dinner invitation. I'll take care of the rest."

Bowing much lower than was typically necessary, Grabell's personal Knight replied, "As you will, Your Majesty."

Though it would cause several issues if someone were to hear Grabell's subordinates referring to him with the title 'Majesty,' the First Prince had near-absolute influence over the section of the palace he resided in. He had hand-picked each and every one of his servants and attendants, so there was not a single person that was not absolutely loyal or too afraid to offend him. This would be considered excessive by most, but, in Prince Grabell's world, the only form of control that mattered was absolute...

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