“How about this one?”

“Hmm... It’s definitely more refined, but it feels like it lacks the sharpness we often saw during training.”

“I see. I’ll make adjustments. Take another look.”

It was a month until we set off on our journey.

During this time, each member of our party was busy preparing in their own way.

Ziegfried, in particular, focused on developing his own unique techniques based on the advice I had given him earlier.

His greatest contribution to this journey would be his combat skills.

That’s why he was perfecting his style of swordsmanship.

Whoosh!!

The blade, drawn sharply, sliced through the target in an instant.

“Wow! That was amazing! It’s perfect for the technique you mentioned!”

That last strike was a move I’d often seen during our sparring sessions.

It was the technique where he drew his sword from his waist and swiftly attacked right after the duel began.

Ziegfried seemed satisfied with the feeling he had just experienced, sporting a faint smile.

“This is the feeling! I understand now.”

“What will you name it?”

“The name, you say?”

“Yes! If it’s a technique, it should definitely have a name! Just like magic!”

Of course, a technique didn’t need a chant to activate, but it was only natural to name something you created.

It would also make it easier to teach someone else.

Suddenly, Ziegfried, with a look of excitement, threw a wooden sword at me.

“Whoa!”

“Let’s pass this technique to you first, and then we can think of a name.”

“Uh, okay...?”

“We don’t have time. Grab the sword.”@@novelbin@@

Ziegfried’s face was lit up with a joyful smile.

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