Inside the training ground of the Enid Mansion. *Clang —*
With the azure sky as a backdrop, the wooden swords in Ron and Lifa’s hands collided.
“Lifa.”
Ron called out softly to the girl, who seemed a bit distracted again. His wrist flicked lightly, breaking through Lifa’s parry. The stalemate was instantly broken, and the match was decided.
The wooden sword in Lifa’s hand was knocked loose and fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Master.”
Looking at her empty palm, Lifa bit her lip. After apologizing, she hurriedly moved to pick up the wooden sword from the ground.
“Forget it, let’s take a break.”
Ron shook his head in response, stopping her and ending their sparring session.
“Oh…”
Lifa didn’t say anything, but Ron was already frowning, his expression unusually serious.
It had been two days since he had established a further partnership with Rosalyn and received news about the origin crystal.
Since the night he first stayed at the Earl’s Mansion, Ron had simply decided to move out of the inn and stay at Rosalyn’s residence with Lifa until they departed for the Royal Capital of Falosha.
“Lifa, you can’t keep going like this.”
Ron walked forward and picked up the wooden sword Lifa had dropped, sliding it back into the weapon rack next to the training ground along with his own.
Lifa opened her mouth to explain something, but her gaze immediately retreated after meeting Ron’s eyes. In the end, it only turned into a somewhat weak and perfunctory apology.
“Dummy, I don’t want to hear that.”
Ron sighed and picked up a nearby towel to wipe the beads of sweat from Lifa’s forehead.
He could see the issues with Lifa’s emotions and attitude, and it worried him.
Ron had advocated for moving into the Earl’s Mansion not just for convenience, but also to utilize Rosalyn’s resources to help Lifa study and improve her strength.
The pink-haired Countess was quite generous, providing Ron with many magical items and equipment he could use. However, Lifa, who was supposed to benefit from all of this, was having problems of her own.
“Lifa, what are you afraid of?”
Weapons and swordsmanship could speak. During their sparring, Ron had heard the girl’s hesitation, fear, and wavering.
“Or is the pressure I’ve been putting on you too much lately?”
Ron sat down with Lifa on a wooden bench at the edge of the training ground, wanting to find the root of the problem directly.
“It’s nothing like that…”
Lifa showed a clear emotional fluctuation during the first half of Ron’s sentence, but when he asked about the pressure, she only shook her head absentmindedly.
“Then is it because you don’t like living here? Do you hate Rosalyn?”
Ron simply tried a different line of questioning.
“No… maybe a little…”
Lifa was not good at lying. After her gaze locked with Ron’s for a few seconds, she immediately changed her answer. Her small head dropped lower and lower until it was almost parallel to the ground.
“Master, Lifa has disappointed you.”
Lifa looked very much like a soldier who had just lost a battle and was fleeing in panic. In her heart, her thoughts and self-evaluation were much the same.
‘That night was such a good opportunity…’
‘Even if I didn’t know how to take that final step, why couldn’t I at least voice my confession?’
What started as dissatisfaction with her performance that night had fermented over the past two days into doubts about herself, her resolve, and her courage.
“I have never been disappointed in you, Lifa.”
Ron raised his right hand and began to tidy Lifa’s long golden hair, which had become a bit messy after the sparring.
“As for other issues, I really can’t guess them. Can I ask you to tell me?”
He didn’t pull his hand back. Instead, after fixing her hair, he smiled and took Lifa’s slender, nervous hand in his.
“T-this…”
‘Master holding my hand so suddenly is totally unfair!’
After the initial shyness, a bit of light returned to Lifa’s eyes, but her answer still trailed off after only two words.
“Heh.”
Ron smiled and decided to try harder, continuing to encourage her in a different way.
“Ahem.”
He cleared his throat.
“Our little Lifa has always said she wants to become a Hero like Isis, right?”
“W-what?”
“Actually, I know that Isis once said something…”
Mentioning her idol, Ron found that Lifa’s attention and curiosity were instantly piqued.
‘The role model method really is useful,’ he thought as he continued in a deep tone.
“A Hero is anyone who dares to face their own heart.”
Insightful and full of philosophy!
Ron watched as Lifa first widened her eyes and then began to savor and contemplate the meaning behind those words. He was also very satisfied with this maxim he had just made up on the spot using Isis’s name.
“Lifa, are you willing to tell me what’s on your heart now?”
Most people might not be interested in this kind of “chicken soup for the soul,” but Ron knew that with the added effect of an idol, this kind of Hero’s quote was a critical hit for the simple Lifa, who trusted Ron implicitly.
“Master… I-I understand.”
As time passed, Ron noticed Lifa gripping his hand tighter and tighter. She finally decided to speak the thoughts she had been suppressing, even if she still hid some of the emotional details.
“Recently, Lifa found that there are things I’m afraid to do…”
The girl closed her eyes.
“I’m afraid of losing, afraid of not being able to do it, and afraid of messing things up.”
Exactly. Lifa’s voice was like a taut bowstring.
Besides the courage needed to confess her feelings, Lifa was also afraid deep down that she would be rejected by Ron or even hated. Once this self-doubt and hesitation started, it spread to other areas like a virus.
‘Master has explained the way to counter the drawing sword slash so many times, why can’t I learn it?’
‘Master said the demonic beast guarding the origin crystal might be at Tier 6 or higher. Can I really defeat it?’
*Snap!*
“Ow… that hurts — “
Lifa’s wandering thoughts were interrupted. She clutched her forehead, which was still radiating pain, and opened one eye to look at Ron.
“Dummy Lifa.”
Ron had no intention of stopping. He flicked her forehead again through the gap in her hands.
“Getting stuck in a horn because of things like this… do you think you’re an omnipotent god?”
Ron put his hands behind his back. Action and reaction were equal; this girl’s head was actually quite hard.
“Lifa didn’t…”
“Then why worry about those things?”
Ron sighed helplessly. Fortunately, he was a veteran of such situations. During his time with blackening cultivation, there was no personality of slave girl he hadn’t dealt with.
“Everyone has their limits, and everyone has things they are afraid of or can’t do. That’s normal.”
Ron laid out the logic first, then followed up with his own example.
“Just like me—aren’t I also afraid that the children I failed in the past will come looking for me? That’s why I want Lifa to get stronger quickly so you can protect me.”
“Even regarding Isis, I can tell you that as a Hero, she also has things she can’t do and things she’s afraid of.”
Enlightening and educating others was an addictive feeling. Ron even let slip the topic of Isis, which he usually tried his best to avoid.
“Ah, even Isis has them?”
The fog originally tangling Lifa’s heart had dissipated. Hearing Ron say this now, she was simply curious.
“Hiss… of course. Of course she does. I can guarantee it.”
Ron hurriedly stopped himself, though he thought that he was the most authoritative witness to this fact in the Uthis Continent.
“Anyway, Lifa, you have to learn to accept your imperfect self.”
“Believe that I will always be by your side to help, and believe that as long as you persevere, the impossible will eventually become possible.”
“Yes! Master, Lifa has rested enough… can you continue explaining that drawing sword slash to me?”
Lifa regained her motivation and liveliness. She stood up under Ron’s gratified and relaxed gaze.
“Alright, let’s continue!”
The improvement of strength did not lie only in weapons, equipment, or levels and techniques; one’s state of mind often determined their limit.
As Ron was feeling happy about successfully guiding Lifa and maintaining the girl’s pure mindset, Rosalyn was personally greeting a guest at the mansion entrance.
“President Falga, we meet again.”
“Miss Enid, I am overwhelmed by your welcome.”
“Not at all—and this is?”
Rosalyn narrowed her eyes. Stepping out of the carriage behind Falga was a mysterious person completely wrapped in a hooded cloak.