Mushoku tensei: A New Path

A Spartan Routine

It has been six months since my last reflection, and now I am officially four years old. My life has gone into what I would call full Spartan mode. Every day follows a disciplined schedule: I wake up, freshen up, perform some light stretches, and have breakfast. The mornings are dedicated to magic lessons with Roxy. Together, we travel to a nearby open field outside the village to ensure our practice sessions don't accidentally damage the house.

By midday, I return home and dive into swordsmanship training with Paul. He starts with basic physical exercises: pushups, squats, pull-ups, sit-ups, and leg raises. This is followed by learning the fundamental stances of swordsmanship. Although Paul's teaching style lacks finesse, as I had anticipated from my meta-knowledge, his instruction suffices for the basics. Whenever I struggle, I turn to Lilia for guidance. As a former Royal Maid with Intermediate-Rank proficiency in the Water-God style, she is well-qualified to assist. I am grateful for my meta-knowledge, as it allows me to optimize what I learn from these individuals, compensating for what the original story failed to leverage.

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One day, I approached Lilia for assistance with my stances. She seemed surprised when I asked, even questioning whether Paul had spoken to me about her. I assured her that it wasn't the case and mentioned that I had noticed her observing Paul during his sword drills. Her cheeks turned a shade of pink—evidently, she thought I was accusing her of lusting after a bare-chested Paul. To be fair, I can see why; the man is muscular, agile, and undeniably skilled.

Curiosity got the better of me. "Lilia-san," I asked, "you know swordsmanship, don't you?"

Recovering from her embarrassment, she nodded. "Yes, young master. I learned swordsmanship in my youth, but I am nowhere near as skilled as Paul-sama."

Feigning ignorance, I pressed further. "Is my father really that good?" (Of course, I already knew the answer from both observation and meta-knowledge, but I wanted to hear Lilia's perspective. Her emotions toward Paul seem layered—not just admiration, but also sadness, longing, and something deeper.)

"Yes, Paul-sama is exceptionally talented," Lilia admitted. "If I may say, he has the potential of a genius. But he lacks the patience and discipline to refine his abilities to their full extent."

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Lilia's Memories of the Past

Her gaze shifted toward the window, where Paul was training outside, she couldn't help but be pulled into memories of the past—memories she thought she had buried deep. Her young master (Rudeus) had unknowingly unearthed emotions she didn't want to revisit. She tried to focus on his movements, offering guidance, but her mind kept drifting.

I still remember when he entered my life. Not Paul-sama, but that boy who barged into our dojo, brimming with arrogance and determination. He was no more than twelve at the time, yet he had the audacity to declare himself an Advance-Rank in the Sword-God style. I hated him at first—his confidence, his smirk, and the way he carried himself as though he already owned the place. Who did this boy think he was, walking into our small-town dojo like some seasoned warrior?

Our dojo wasn't grand, but it was ours. My father, Augusta, was a skilled swordsman in his own right—a mentor to the local militia and protector of our town. He trained soldiers and children alike, nurturing them to become Elementary or, if they were lucky, Intermediate-Rank swordsmen. But none had ever reached Advance-Rank. My father often lamented this fact, though he accepted it as the natural limit of our humble students.

And then, he came.

When Paul—no, that boy—stood before the students, proclaiming his rank, the entire dojo erupted in laughter. We all thought it was a joke. But then he began his demonstrations. One by one, he defeated every student who dared challenge him, from Elementary-Rank swordsmen to those on the cusp of Intermediate-Rank. I watched in stunned silence as he dismantled their techniques with ease.

When he turned to my father, challenging him with that same cocky grin, I felt a mixture of fear and anger. Could this boy really think he could defeat my father? But to my relief, my father proved why he was the master of the dojo. Using his Water-God techniques, he countered every one of Paul's flashy Sword-God attacks, bringing him to his knees. My father's victory reaffirmed my belief that he was the strongest, and for a moment, I was content.

But that boy—Paul—did something I didn't expect. He knelt before my father and asked to be his disciple. Despite his arrogance, there was a sincerity in his voice that caught me off guard. My father, perhaps seeing potential where the rest of us saw bravado, agreed.

From that day, everything changed.

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Resentment and Realizations

Paul trained under my father with a determination I had never seen before. While others, including myself, struggled to master even the basics, he seemed to absorb techniques effortlessly. Within a year, he reached Advance-Rank in the Water-God style—a feat no one else had ever achieved in our dojo. When he defeated my father in a sparring match, I was in disbelief. My father brushed it off as a lucky hit, but within months, Paul was winning every bout.

My father began looking at him with pride—the same pride I had longed to see in his eyes. For years, I had trained tirelessly, pushing myself to become a swordswoman worthy of his acknowledgment. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I remained an Intermediate-Rank swordsman. And then this boy, this outsider, waltzed in and surpassed us all. The resentment I felt was overwhelming. I cried myself to sleep most nights, feeling both jealousy and shame.

What made it worse was how my father began grooming Paul as his successor. I overheard him speaking with my mother about their plans to give Paul the dojo—and me. My father intended to marry me off to Paul as part of his succession plan. The thought made my blood boil. How could my father make such a decision without consulting me? I was furious with Paul for taking everything that mattered to me: my father's pride, my future, and even my sense of self-worth.

But as much as I hated him, I couldn't stop noticing him. There was something about the way he wielded a sword—his focus, his ferocity. When he trained, his usual arrogance vanished, replaced by an intensity that made him seem untouchable. I began watching him more closely, though I pretended to avoid him. My feelings were a mess—a tangle of anger, admiration, and something I couldn't quite name.

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The Night That Changed Everything

And then came the night that shattered everything. My parents were away, leaving Paul in charge of the dojo. A fight broke out between him and some of the senior students—resentment and jealousy boiling over into violence. Paul, who had always been quick to anger, lost his temper. When my father returned, he scolded Paul harshly, and I saw something I hadn't noticed before: sadness in his eyes. He was hurt—not by the fight, but by the lack of respect he had earned despite his skill.

That night, Paul came to my room. At first, I thought it was a dream—or a nightmare. He didn't say anything, just approached me with an intensity that made my heart race. What happened next… I don't know if I'll ever truly understand it. Was it passion? Anger? Desperation? All I know is that it left me shaken, confused, and broken.

The next morning, Paul was gone. He left behind a letter saying he was leaving to become an adventurer. I didn't know how to feel—relieved? Betrayed? My father was devastated, and not long after, he fell ill. The dojo closed, and I was left to pick up the pieces. I took a position as a Royal Maid to support my family, though the title felt hollow. The memories of Paul—and what he took from me—haunted me wherever I went.

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Back to the Present

"Lilia-san… Lilia-san!" Rudeus's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring out the window, lost in the past. "Yes, young master? I'm sorry, I was… distracted."

Rudeus gave me a curious look but didn't press further. "Shall I demonstrate the stances now?"

"Yes," I replied, forcing a smile. "Let's see what you've learned."

As Rudeus moved through the stances, I corrected his form where needed, offering pointers on the Water-God style in particular. Watching him practice brought a strange sense of peace. For all his talent, he was eager to learn—a humility Paul had often lacked.

Perhaps, in some small way, helping Rudeus was my way of making peace with the past.

Let me know if further refinements are needed!

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Under Lilia's guidance, my Water-God stances improved significantly. Even Paul noticed the difference.

"My son is a prodigy in both swordsmanship and magic!" Paul boasted one evening. "Man, I'm awesome. My seed is truly exceptional!"

I rolled my eyes at his self-aggrandizing declaration, though I couldn't help but smirk at his boundless enthusiasm.

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Roxy's Growing Reputation

Roxy and I have shifted our Advanced-Rank magic training to an open field outside the village. The garden is spacious, but not nearly enough for high-level spells. I often wonder how the original Rudeus managed to train without blowing up his surroundings.

The villagers have grown fond of Roxy, recognizing her as a helpful presence. She aids them with tasks like breaking rocks for farming and controlling the weather with magic. Her involvement has turned her into a local celebrity.

During one of our trips, I couldn't resist teasing her. "Roxy-san, you're practically a hero in this village!"

Her face turned crimson. "I-it's not like that! I get compensated, you know…"

Feigning disappointment, I sighed. "Ah, so it's not pure altruism. But you're still my sensei."

The word sensei only deepened her embarrassment. Her thoughts, however, betrayed her internal conflict: Does this child enjoy putting me in such difficult situations?

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Encounters with Village Children

Our practice sessions have caught the attention of local children. They observe us from a distance, their awe and curiosity evident. Among them, one child stands out: Sylphiette, the daughter of huntef & Half-elf Rawls.

According to my meta-knowledge, Sylphy was the original Rudeus's first disciple and later his wife. While I have no intention of meddling inappropriately, I can't ignore her plight. She's being bullied, just as the story described. For now, I've chosen to wait, hoping our paths cross naturally.

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Reflections and Future Preparations

At four and a half years old, I've mastered Advanced-Rank and Melded Magic under Roxy's tutelage. To maintain appearances, I've deliberately slowed my progress. My lessons with Roxy are now conducted primarily in the Demon language, while I learn basic Beast-Race phrases from Zenith. To lift her spirits, I've also begun studying noble etiquette under her guidance.

In six months, I will turn five. The road ahead is long, and my true test lies at the age of ten. Until then, I must prepare with all the diligence I can muster. Every step, every lesson, is a piece of the foundation I'm building for the challenges to come.