Mid-November, just over four months since my first achievement.

Hah… Hah… Hah…

Lying flat on the ground in our backyard, I was desperately trying to catch my breath, feeling the air slowly fill my exhausted lungs. Sweat poured off me in streams, my clothes clung to my skin, causing both irritation and chills, and the dirt caked under my nails, in my hair, and even in my ears only added to the discomfort. The burning in my lungs refused to subside, despite my efforts to focus on anything else. The sting of sweat in my eyes snapped me right back into reality, every time.

"Here," Tomoe crouched beside me and offered me a bottle of water.

I was so wiped out, I couldn't even lift my arm to take it. So, I turned my head away from the much-needed drink, trying to ignore its tempting presence and focus on calming my breathing.

"You know, this is kind of cute," my sister spoke up again, poking at my sweaty cheek with her finger. "What would your girlfriend say if she saw you all red and sweaty like this?"

I honestly couldn't remember when this all started, but I suspected it was after Tomoe told Mom about my "close" relationship with Akeno. At first, I didn't pay much attention to it. I understood their logic: a boy spending a lot of time with one girl, and not really hanging out with any of his other peers. Innocent teasing about "puppy love" seemed normal, even kind of funny. But after a few months of it, and not a single day passing without their playful jabs, it started to get seriously annoying. The constant jokes became awkward, and I began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with the whole thing, especially considering I was mentally nearing twenty-eight years old.

Initially, I thought the two of them would get bored of their teasing after a couple of months and move on, but I hadn't accounted for one key factor — Akeno Himejima. On her birthday, we all went to an amusement park to celebrate, and Tomoe tagged along. Noticing how Akeno kept sticking close to me like a kitten to its mother, Tomoe couldn't help but call us newlyweds. Instead of getting flustered like any normal kid, that cheeky girl Akeno just hugged me tighter and, with complete seriousness, declared that she was ready to take the Oreki name. That was when I realized… this teasing was never going to end.

Why is this my life? I thought, finally snatching the water bottle from Tomoe's hand.

"Come on now, don't give me that look," she smirked, ruffling my already dirty hair. "I'd say you're pretty lucky with Akeno."

"Before you start matchmaking me, how about you find someone for yourself first?" I replied, my breathing finally steadying.

"What nonsense?" Tomoe gave me a light flick on the forehead. "I'm only eleven. Come back to me with those kinds of questions in at least ten years."

"What a double standard," I muttered with a smirk.

"That's the world we live in. Men and women. Stamens and pistils. Freedom and restraint. You get it, right?" she stared at me, as if challenging me to understand her cryptic musings.

"You do realize you sound just like Mom?" I chuckled.

Tomoe laughed nervously, immediately getting defensive.

"You're kidding, right? Tell me you're joking! Me? Like Mom? Impossible!" she said, staring me down, desperate for reassurance.

I put on my most serious face and dramatically declared, "Well then, go ahead and reflect on your slow transformation into Tomoe of House Oreki, the First of Her Name, Unburnt, Breaker of Chains, and Daughter of Freedom… Meanwhile, I'll go take a shower."

Without waiting for her response, I got to my feet — my legs trembling slightly — and dragged my battered body inside the house.

It had been four months since I officially chose the "Mage" path. In that time, I'd played the part of the "bookworm," devouring magic encyclopedias and textbooks like candy, and also tried out being a "doormat" when I foolishly asked Tomoe to teach me a few self-defense techniques. The former? I loved it. I could spend days cooped up in my room as long as they kept feeding me magic books. The latter? Not so much.

"Who knew my sister had been training in taijutsu with Mom since the day I was born?" That thought ran through my mind again, and for good reason.

Neither my mother nor my sister seemed like martial arts masters at first glance. One was just a kid, and the other was a petite Japanese woman. But the moment I witnessed their sparring session, I threw all those foolish assumptions right out the window. For starters, even though I didn't sense any magical energy in their movements, they could move so fast they practically vanished before my eyes — and my vision was far superior to that of a regular human. And then there was the time my mom kicked the ground and left a ten-meter crater in it with just a single strike. After that, I swore to never underestimate seemingly fragile women again.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

It was around that time I asked to be taught how to fight. After all, from everything I'd read in books, RPGs, and movies, I knew that combat was the Achilles' heel of most mages. Plus, as an Alchemist of Atlas, I was obligated to push my body to its limits.

So, when I started training with Tomoe, I expected basic self-defense. Instead, I was plunged into the world of ancient martial arts — Kukishin-ryu — which included the renowned taijutsu.

"I'm going to become a freaking shinobi!" I thought excitedly.

"Not so fast, you idiot!" life promptly replied.

But let's take it from the top. As it turned out, my mother had trained in a martial arts school in her youth, and now she was passing down that "legacy" to her children. The training regimen that my mom had followed, which Tomoe had undergone before me and now I was experiencing, included various disciplines: Bojutsu — the art of wielding the staff, Naginata-jutsu — the art of using the naginata, Sojutsu — the spear, Kenjutsu — swordsmanship, and, of course, the unarmed techniques known as Taijutsu, which literally means "the art of the body."

At first glance, mastering all these disciplines seemed daunting and exhausting. But I was surprised by how well-suited this martial art actually was for starting at a young age. There were two key reasons for this. First, the initial stage of learning Taijutsu in Kukishin-ryu assumes that beginners have no prior experience with martial arts. This phase focuses on the basics — self-protection techniques, proper grips, striking form, and ways to unbalance your opponent. It was perfect for a beginner like me. The second reason was that Keiko — the traditional name for the training process — ensured safe practice for both partners without sacrificing the quality of techniques.

"In my view, it's all about control — how the opponent is managed from the moment of contact to the execution of the technique," I reflected on what I had learned during practice.

Like any well-designed combat system, Taijutsu relies heavily on understanding human anatomy and biomechanics. It uses this knowledge not only to neutralize attacks but to do so with precision and control.

Now, I don't know if it was my A-rank luck at work or just a coincidence, but Alchemists of Atlas also specialize in studying the biological processes of the human body. Of course, I didn't instantly become a professional shinobi — I lacked the full knowledge of Atlas — but thanks to the overlap in focus, learning Taijutsu came more easily, as I could blend it with practicing Atlas Alchemy magic.

Let's get back to the martial art itself. The control a Taijutsu practitioner develops comes from proper timing, appropriate force relative to the opponent, and, of course, observation. Sometimes, a subtle, well-timed action — executed with the right awareness of the situation — can resolve a confrontation without excess effort or tension.

"I'd add that it's not just that softness overcomes hardness, but that pliability, awareness, composure, balance, and structure defeat anything that lacks those qualities..." This was the only correct conclusion I could reach after countless sparring sessions with Tomoe and hours spent analyzing her style and techniques.

In the end, it wasn't about brute force or flashy techniques. It was about control, subtlety, and using the least effort for the greatest effect — a principle that echoed not just in martial arts but in Alchemy too. At the end of every training session, I felt completely drained, barely able to catch my breath, yet my body showed almost no serious damage. The small scratches and bruises I did have, as Tomoe explained, were due to her still-imperfect mastery of Kukishin-ryu. But this didn't mean that opponents subjected to this Taijutsu would walk away unscathed. Quite the opposite. Through skillful control of one's strength and a deep understanding of the enemy's movements, the strikes could be greatly amplified, redirecting the opponent's attack momentum. This fighting style allowed for both minimizing damage to oneself and dealing serious destruction — even to the point of shattering the magic-fortified ground in our backyard.

I'll admit, despite the appeal and effectiveness of Taijutsu, at first, I whined like a baby. Constantly being beaten down and utterly exhausted wasn't nearly as glamorous as it was in the novels from my previous life. The pain I endured daily during sparring and strength training felt so foreign and wrong that I even considered quitting. For the first couple of weeks, my thoughts were mostly along the lines of: "Every girl in my life is a monster who can floor me with one hand." And let me tell you, that realization was demoralizing. Still, the fact that an eleven-year-old girl, who had undergone the same grueling training as a child, was the one teaching me kept me from giving up. I grit my teeth and pushed through.

Of course, as my mind adapted to the new reality, so did my body. The potential of my body as a person from this world was anything but ordinary. Just seeing Tomoe's and Mikoto's explosive strength was proof enough of that. Plus, the legacy of Atlas Alchemy played a role as well. According to what I knew, some talented alchemists could easily lift over three hundred kilograms by the age of six. I wasn't there yet — after all, I'd only started this path four months ago — but I could already lift a hundred kilograms. That was absurd considering my size. But knowing about Akeno, Tomoe, and their abilities, I began to temper my excitement, slowly getting used to the craziness of this world.

Speaking of craziness, the sheer abnormality of the people around me was one of the main reasons why I dedicated at least a couple of hours each day to hand-to-hand combat and physical training, even though I could have been spending that time studying a magical treatise on levitation.

The other reason was simple: "Because I can!" From the start, I understood the potential of my body.

"Bench-pressing three hundred kilos at six years old… That alchemist was unbelievable!" I thought to myself in awe.

If I didn't take advantage of this potential, I wouldn't be worthy of the title of an Atlas Alchemist. After all, it was their perfectly honed human bodies, pushed to the limit, that made them so renowned. Plus, as I learned, physical conditioning had a direct impact on the effectiveness of both "Thought Acceleration" and "Memory Partition"…