Talent, Talent, and Talent
Rafina Aselina.
She hated the Holy Kingdom.
More precisely, it would be fairer to say she utterly despised the cage that called itself the Holy Kingdom.
That was why, while she still possessed the freedom that came before becoming the Saint, Rafina far preferred roaming the outside world to remaining trapped within those walls.
And of all the things she loved while wandering abroad, nothing ranked higher than sparring against the strong of the continent.
The current Saint was far too frail for the power she held. Chosen by the gods, she never fell ill and could wield a nearly endless well of divine power—but perhaps because she had never tempered her body, she was weaker in flesh than even an ordinary woman. Having watched that Saint for so long, Rafina had not the slightest desire to end up the same way.
At the very least, she wanted the strength to protect herself. So she had sought out the Monk Cardinal of the Holy Kingdom and begun learning bare-handed combat as a monk.
Fortunately—or perhaps inevitably—the monk's art suited her. No: "suited her" was far too mild. Her talent was exceptional, the kind that stood out even among the gifted. The Monk Cardinal had assured her that, had she become a monk in truth, she would without doubt have surpassed even him. Hearing that, Rafina had thought:
Then why not just do both?
That single idea was what had set her to wandering the continent, staking Holy Water on every duel she could find. She clashed with anyone on the road who was confident in their skill, and when word of a true powerhouse reached her, she went looking for them herself and asked to be taught.
Through it all, Rafina found pure joy—and with it, a deep pride in her own talent.
Most of the so-called strong were no match for her. These days, under the current Saint's warning, she fought only with her bare hands. But in the past, when she had allowed her opponents to keep their weapons, she had even defeated Middle Sword Experts. Upper Sword Experts had still been beyond her, yet at a mere fifteen years old she had already climbed into the upper ranks of the Middle Sword Experts.
And that was precisely why she could not make sense of the situation before her now.
I got hit?
If her first impression had been right, her opponent was only a Beginner Sword Expert. The way the girl moved had suggested she was stronger than her rank implied—but Rafina had never imagined it would be this much. In half a year of travel she had not allowed a clean hit in a single spar, and yet a sharp ache was blooming inside her mouth. Licking the copper taste of blood from her tongue, Rafina broke into a broad, unrestrained grin.
"Hahaha!! You're pretty good!!!"
She had been thinking of heading back to the Holy Kingdom for a while; every sparring partner of late had been nothing but chaff. And then, of all things, she ran into a powerhouse like this.
Feeling a competitive fire she hadn't tasted in ages, Rafina kicked off the ground the instant her feet touched it and charged. Sigrun's fist came flying to meet her.
Head first…!
She slapped aside the punch aimed at her skull, only for the next strike to come driving up toward her liver. A blow that needed blocking—yet Rafina's eyes locked on Sigrun's other hand, still in the middle of recovering, and she chose offense over defense.
I'll give her one free punch!
Trade bone for bone. The decisive difference between Sigrun and herself was divine power. Unlike Sigrun, who had no means of healing herself, Rafina could mend her own wounds with holy arts. She was not yet the Saint, so her divine power was not infinite and her number of heals was limited—but for this spar, it would be more than enough.
Give up her own bone, take her opponent's in return, and the one who came out ahead would always be Rafina. So she thrust her fist before Sigrun could even raise a guard and smashed it straight into her face.
WHAM───!!!
Divine power erupted from Rafina's knuckles and wrenched Sigrun's head sideways. In the same instant, Sigrun's oncoming fist slammed into Rafina's side.
"Kh—…!"
"Cough…!"
Both of them gasped at once. And in the brief moment of mutual stun, it was of course Rafina who moved first. Mending her condition with holy arts, she clenched her fist and lunged a full step ahead of Sigrun. Spitting the blood pooled in her mouth, Sigrun got her stance back late—just as Rafina lifted her leg.
What followed was a crushing axe-kick, heavy with divine power converted into pure force.
KRAAASH───!!!
Rafina's foot came down on Sigrun's crossed arms. With a massive thud, Sigrun sank a fraction into the earth. Rafina poured more strength into her leg, ready to drive her through the ground—but Sigrun was not about to take it quietly.
"I won't just stand here and take it…!"
"Wha—?!"
Concentrating mana into her arms to reinforce them, Sigrun tilted her body and let Rafina's leg slide past. In that single instant Rafina's balance broke, and the initiative flipped. What came next was Sigrun's spinning kick, launched as she kicked off the ground and rose into the air. Rafina threw both arms up in a desperate guard.
CRACK───!!
She had poured so much mana into the blow that even through the guard the sound of bone snapping rang out clear and ugly. The force of it shoved Rafina back from the spot where she had blocked.
"Hmph…!"
The broken bone throbbed and screamed from inside her arm. Anyone else would have groaned; for Rafina the pain was old and familiar. She rode it out with a single snort of breath—then suddenly raised her arm.
"Ah, hang on a second. This really isn't going to cut it."
"Hm?"
Sigrun tilted her head at the words. Stopping the fight made her wonder if Rafina was conceding defeat, but that was not what Rafina had meant at all. Rather than explain, she simply turned and walked. Her steps carried her straight to Sigrun's companions—the ones who had been holding Sigrun's sword and armor. She stopped in front of the smaller of the two girls, snatched the sword, and tossed it to Sigrun.
"I want to fight a powerhouse like you properly! You're a swordswoman, so you'll be stronger with a blade, right?"
"That is true… but did you not say earlier that swords were not allowed?"
"I did, but as long as it isn't a live blade, a little is fine. If I sparred against a real sword, I'd probably get my outings banned for good… So I'm a bit sorry to ask this after handing it over, but can you fight with it still in the sheath?"
"Of course. If anything, that will let me fight more sincerely—this is a spar, after all."
In her heart Rafina would have loved to face Sigrun with a live blade, but if limbs started flying the way they once had, she truly would never be allowed out of the Holy Kingdom again. Behind her, the holy knights who had been twitching at every exchange gave small nods, as if willing to look the other way just this once now that the sheath would stay on. At that unspoken permission Rafina flashed her teeth in another fierce grin and raised her fists.
"Then let's go again!"
"Very well. We begin anew."
The arm that had broken was already long since healed by holy arts. Facing a Sigrun whose presence now cut sharper than anything she had shown with bare fists, Rafina kicked off the ground at once.
BOOM───!!!
The brief lull shattered, and their spar began again.
Thud───
"Aaah, I can't win… You're disgustingly strong."
"My thanks. And you were quite strong yourself. I have never met a monk before, but it is clear enough that you are a genius."
Rafina with her fists, Sigrun with her own sword—the rematch had, of course, ended in Sigrun's victory. Fist against fist, Rafina's odds would have been better. But for her, a spar was never about winning; it was a means of becoming stronger. Defeat or not, the long-awaited bout had been rich nourishment.
And because she had lost, Rafina handed over the Holy Water she had staked without hesitation.
"Here. The Holy Water I put up as the prize. One bottle of this stuff costs a fortune, so treat it carefully."
"Mm. I am not certain I will use it myself, but I will take good care of it."
Sigrun accepted the bottle with careful hands. Rafina studied the girl standing before her—the one who had claimed with her own mouth to be a Beginner Sword Expert, yet had shown skill on par with Upper Sword Experts.
"I always thought my own talent was pretty considerable, but the world really is wide. Different kind of gift, sure—but this is the first time I've met someone more talented than me."
Talent could sometimes be measured in visible skill, but more often it was something felt. And if you yourself were a genius, that sense grew even sharper. Rafina, who would be called a prodigy among monks, could feel it: Sigrun's talent edged out her own, just slightly.
The realization made her click her tongue anew at how vast the world was. But Sigrun only answered with a wry smile.
"Well… I do think my talent is excellent, but it is still not enough. I am still working at it."
"Huh? You've got talent like that and you're calling it not enough? Aren't you being a little greedy?"
To Rafina, the girl in front of her outstripped nearly every strong fighter she had ever met. The words almost sounded like mockery, and her brow furrowed—until Sigrun turned her head toward something else. Following that gaze, Rafina found a white-haired girl with rose-pink eyes, chatting with the smaller girl at her side. Looking at her, Sigrun shrugged.
"There are talents in this world that cannot even be measured by a genius's yardstick."
There was not a shred of falsehood in Sigrun's eyes as she said it. For Rafina, understanding that kind of sincerity would take a little more time.