I stood before Dad, the both of us raising swords of wood towards each other. I heightened my focus and watched him closely, our steps drawing a circle on the hill's grass. A deep breath flowed into my body, and I burst into motion upon its release.

I started with the classic, an overhead slash, but it was easily parried. I stabbed from there to try and get my Dad off guard, but the attack was swatted away. I flowed into a rhythm, every stroke mastered over years of effort. All of my attacks were still deflected by the much larger man.

We continued our spar, as I honed my swordplay further. I memorized every block, every possible shift from every position, until I could recognize them all without thinking. My brain was working overtime to memorize Dad's patterns, and while I wasn't arrogant enough to claim I had surpassed the literal century he'd spent with the sword, I could definitely feel that I was making progress. I should be good enough to get a glancing blow or two if my Mutation levels were just a little bit closer to his own.

The spar shifted. Dad ceased only blocking, and met me blow for blow. I knew he was still holding back, but it still took a lot out of me every time our swords met. It mattered little, my body could keep on functioning for a long while yet, I knew that through sheer experience. I'd long ago learned my limits and how much I could push past it.

I dodged a particularly wide strike, and then I dampened the next blow by stepping into it before I blocked. My feet shifted rapidly on the ground, almost like a dance, as I weaved my way around the battle, trying my hardest to find a proper opening to strike.

I had consciously decided to incorporate more footwork into my movements, once I realized that I was once again slacking in that department. It was something that was so easy to forget in the heat of battle, once I'd locked swords with someone. But being in constant motion was a big advantage for a human, even if I didn't intend to stay that way. I'd poured way too much time into evasion and mobility training, to just let it be forgotten.

So I made full use of my Flutter Feet, constantly making myself into a moving target. The extra range of motion certainly worked to give me an advantage, however Dad only showed more of his true power in response, and the large man simply rotated with minimal steps, making sure that he was always facing me. I could not maneuver into a blind spot, and I was expending a lot more stamina than he was!

My advantages as a human would allow me to keep functioning for a while yet, but I would lose at this rate even if we had the same endurance. That was far from the case, as although Dad’s larger size made his stamina lower than it otherwise would be, he was still leagues above what I was capable of.

The spar shifted again, before I could be totally axhausted. This time Dad was on the offensive. I watched every stroke of his sword, and decided in the moment what was the best way to block or parry. His attacks flowed unpredictably, still throwing me off guard at times, but I had built my instincts up enough to react properly to most of them. This same training that I'd repeated nigh religiously everyday would further build me up into a swordswoman that could overwhelm and adapt to any foe.

Footwork, footwork!

I'd panicked when dad had forced me into the defensive, making me forget one of the fundamentals yet again. I sought to immediately remedy my error as I stepped back and deflected my father's sword. I ran and jumped around, to make myself a slippier target. It was quite difficult to keep track of both the exchange of swords, the footwork, and the terrain behind me, but what was the point of training if I didn’t learn.

My evasion training paid off, as I continued a retreating defense, circling around our hill. I did not take the full weight of any of Dad's heavy strikes, instead trying to redirect them all with as little effort as possible. My previously separate instincts were melding together further, turning me into a swordswoman who was fast on her feet, but still able to hit like a truck with her greatsword.

I saw some great success with my retreating tactic. My dad was unable to minimize his movements like earlier, by only turning his body enough to face me. This time he had to give chase, which meant I wasn't just losing out hard on the endurance battle.

If this were a real battle, then my opponent would have the option of just not giving chase, but that would be when I bust out my wand or staff, to magically bombard my opponent from afar.

Not that I would actually win regardless, as again, our specs were worlds apart. I knew for certain that Dad was still holding a lot of his strength back.

It was still a nice fantasy to have, and I was certain that I could one day turn it into a reality.

I collapsed on the grass over an hour later. I'd burnt out all my energy, and now I just laid there, staring at the sky. It was still a beautiful blue, even in another world. The sun seemed brighter than before.

Dad plopped beside me, and we sat in companionable silence for a while. He was usually a man of few words, but a single nod from him was able to convey that he was proud.

We had lunch inside later on. The entire family was there and Grandpa spoke about his own experiences in the battlefield. Of humans standing their ground clad in armor against larger and stronger foes. Our enemies were always so confident at first, but we outlasted them and won.

It was a tactic that was still relevant, if a bit diminished. We now had a much larger pool of talent to choose from, owing to being part of a multi-species empire.

I wondered for a moment what I would be able to do as a demon, and what I would lose. I could attest through my training, that the human build certainly had a lot of potential. It was easy to see how I could possibly reach the very top with it, as a tireless warrior able to adapt to any situation, with the capacity to train and retain that training much more rapidly. But my mind was made up, and I would not be tempted away from demonhood. I was prepared to lose and have to rework years of training. The sunk cost fallacy will not claim me, I’m ready to throw away the effort I'd put into mastering my human Mutations!

My dream will be fulfilled.

I went back out of the house after my meal, both of my parents with me. I was well rested, and ready to get back into practice, my true goal and dream always within my sight. If only I knew how to actually do that, what it takes to become a demon… I really need to find out soon.

I'd already taken out my wand to do some practice, when some guests came up the hill to visit. It was Luine with one of her children in tow, a human boy.

"Ah, Haell," Dad spoke up. "That's Therick. He also wishes to learn the sword. You two could spar."

The boy's name was pronounced as 'The Rick'.

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"You could even make a friend!" Mom added. "You know, if you get along. No pressure or anything. But as proud as we are of you for all the effort you put in… you're nine! Maybe have some fun too? Make some friends?"

“Hm?” I found my mother’s words strange. “I have friends. There’s Moonwash, and then there’s Granuel… There you go. Friends.”

Come to think of it, that's not a lot…

I considered that maybe Mom had a point. I treasured my friendships so much in my past life, but I'd hardly made time to make new ones here, and I might not even be paying enough attention to the few I did have. "I'll try, Mom… We'll see though, about this Therick."

She patted me on the head. "That's all I ask."

Luine and her charge made it up the hill and to our front lawn.

"Hey Piss Hunters!" Luine greeted loudly. Mom facepalmed, and Dad grinned.

Luine pushed the kid with her forward, and the boy introduced himself. He was older and about half a head taller than me.

"Hello... I'm Therick. You're Rallem's daughter, right?" He asked me.

"Uh. Yeah. I am."

"Nice! I wish I had a cool parent like that!"

There was an awkward air for a moment, upon the words of the orphan. The boy in question just plowed on without regard.

"But I won't let that get me down! Rallem told me he'd train me, and I was also told to come here and be your sparring partner! So let's spar!"

That I could do. "Alright!" I drew my sword and my opponent did the same. We began circling each other as the adults stepped back to give us space.

Our eyes met, there was a tension in the air. The wind blew across the hill, and I lunged, my opponent barely able to react.

Our swords bounced off each other with a snap. Therick shifted his stance, but I reacted a hair faster, forcing him to block at a bad angle.

The boy was pushed back. I could see a panic in his eyes that was never present when I faced my parents and their friends. I dug my feet into the ground, judging that my enemy wasn't in a position to immediately take advantage, and then I pushed forward with more force put into the blow.

Therick was forced to back down again, and I continued my offense. I did not relent. It was all he could do to defend.

Therick panicked further. The situation was entirely out of his control and all he could do was retreat. I pressed my advantage, and he chose to try and forcibly break through. His hands swung back for a big attack, and I knew instantly that he overcommitted. In that same moment, my sword slid right up to his neck.

"My win," I announced. I panted even as the most pleased smile ever made it to my face. Having trained against only the best of adventurers, I had seldom tasted victory in this life. It was such a sweet treat that I'd nearly forgotten. I forgot that it was even the goal.

Therick dropped his sword and nodded dejectedly.

We took a few minutes of break, before we went right back at it. This time, Therick did not let me set the pace from the get go, and we met in the middle, exchanging parries and attacks. I gathered that we were just about evenly matched in strength, despite the size difference. I suspected that my higher levels and his larger mass made us about even.

Our physical specs aside, I was pretty sure that I won out in technique. I read and parried Therick's every strike, I did not fall for any of the feints that he tried. None of his attempts even came close to the experience of having to fend off my dad.

Meanwhile, Therick could barely block my own attacks, causing him more strain or allowing my wooden sword to strike at his flesh. I would be winning harder if this were to be a real battle.

He should already be bleeding out with the amount of damage I'd dished, the tendons that I've hit would have long ago ruined his grip. But while I was sure the adults would mention that in the review, the spar still continued. Not that I minded too much, as if I imagined that we were both wearing armor, then him suffering little to no damage at this point would have been believable.

This spar could take a while, with the Mutations available to us humans. I was fine with that, I always spent this much time in training, and for once I got to be the one dominating the battle. My opponent wasn't actually that bad; Luine, Dad, and some of the other Piss Hunters have been giving the orphan children advice on the things they wished to learn.

That said, I was curious to see if I could get a hit on his vitals, and end this fight sooner. Therick made sure to always protect his head and heart, even as he left way too many openings that I did not fail to take advantage of and skewer.

So I sought a way to overcome the guard that he did have. Instead of aiming for vitals, I could more slowly make my way there. I made a slight feint, which Therick quickly moved to block, but he completely misread my actual aim. My wooden sword crashed upon his hand, and the boy yelped in both pain in surprise. He let go of his sword, nursing his reddened fingers, only to find the tip of my practice blade pointed an inch away from his head.

"My win."

"Yes… it is…" he sighed, before forcing himself to brighten up. "That was amazing! I couldn't get a single hit in! It was almost like fight Luine or your dad!"

I smirked and pulled him back up to his feet. "Yeah, well. I'm just great." I had a habit of bragging. "But no… I'm nowhere near their level."

"Heh. Yeah. I know just how fast and how heavy their hits could be."

We were given pointers again by the adults, after which we resumed our battle.

It was difficult to try and pull the same trick I did prior, as there's a sword guard in the way. I had to get the right angle, and I could hardly do that if my opponent was aware.

So instead I went on the offensive again. I found that I really enjoyed being the one on the attack. I slammed my sword against Therick’s over and over, shutting down any attempts at retaliation. I pushed him back again and again, adding feints and even other non-sword approaches. I won the third match by kicking him in the knee, and I won the fourth by honing my swordplay even further, overwhelming my opponent until he failed to react and got himself slashed across the torso.

The fifth match saw me moving around a lot more, weaving in and out of the way and utterly confusing my opponent. I kinda forgot about it again, but that was in part thanks to myself not really needing it as I had no trouble winning with a frontal assault. This time, with more active footwork on my part, it did not take long for Therick to give a big opening, and through it I skewered his heart.

Metaphorically. We were of course still using wooden swords.

The last battle of the day was the hardest. I went on the offensive, pushing harder than I ever did, and Therick had little recourse as he frantically sought to defend himself from attacks that could seemingly come from any direction. He screamed to no avail.

I could already see my victory approaching, with plenty of slashes landed on less lethal areas, but then Therick suddenly started fighting back with a force and speed greater than my own. I panicked and tried to match him blow for blow, but I ended up getting pushed back hard for my trouble.

I jumped back and went on the defensive, wary and analyzing. My movements shifted toward more evasion, and I noticed that while Therick’s swings were certainly stronger, they had also gotten overall worse than before. Wider for no reason, more predictable, without even any feints mixed in.

The adrenaline gland!

It finally dawned on me what was happening. So I decided to just draw the fight out for a little bit, finding little trouble dodging my opponent's desperate attempts.

As predicted, it didn't take long, not even a full minute, for Therick’s stamina to start flagging. His swings lost the power behind them, he was panting hard, with eyes unclear, likely not even entirely sure of what was in front of him.

I stepped aside one frankly pathetic swing, and then held the blade of my wooden sword right against his throat.

"I win."

Therick looked at me. His expression seemed a mix of aghast and upset for a moment, before he fell on the soft grass.

The older boy had fallen right asleep.