Even if I had to use a stick as a sword, I would master my mother’s style. There had to be a way around the desynchronization.

  Dadan must have noticed something, because she wiped her tears.

  “Enough about that,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. “Ace told me about your training. I don’t like admitting it—but you might be our only real chance of beating Salamander. That Natsu kid and his cat might help, sure, but even then it’ll be a hard fight. Salamander will still have the edge.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  She studied me for a moment. “I’ll explain when we start training. Get ready, brat.”

  It felt too fast—but I understood the urgency.

  “Well,” the blonde girl said, rubbing the back of her neck, “looks like you’re going to need help. My name’s Lucy.”

  I shook her hand. “Naruto Uzumaki. Sorry about… earlier.”

  She gave a small laugh. “Yeah. I’ll live.”

  She explained—briefly—that she used magic and could help however she could. Ace immediately bristled.

  “Don’t forget about me, damn hag—I’m joining too!”

  For the first time since waking up, something loosened in my chest.

  I wasn’t alone. I didn’t have to do this by myself.

  When I stepped outside, the situation hit me all at once. Injured people lined the streets—some bandaged, some barely conscious. I knelt beside an old man clutching his side.

  Lucy lowered her head. “He was trying to get a kid out of the way.”

  Makino arrived soon after, clothes torn and stained with blood that wasn’t hers. She looked exhausted—but still moving, still helping. When she saw me, she froze.

  She crossed the distance in two steps and pulled me into a tight hug.

  For a moment, she didn’t speak. Just breathed—like she needed to make sure I was real.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “Please,” she whispered at last, voice shaking, “don’t scare me like that again.”

  I nodded against her shoulder.

  Not long after, Natsu and Happy returned with firewood—far more than should’ve fit in Happy’s pack. That was when I learned about magic items. A Bag of Holding.

  Eventually, Dadan herded us into a clear space.

  She planted her axe into the dirt. Massive. Gleaming.

  “You brats think you know fighting,” she said. “You don’t know a damn thing yet.”

  Training began.

  “I think I saw you when we first entered the Goa Kingdom,” I said to Lucy as we waited. “You were running.”

  She blinked, then frowned. “Wait—you’re that kid? Huh. Guess that explains the hair.”

  “What were you running from?” I asked.

  She grimaced. “A job interview. And a few angry shopkeepers.”

  “…Figures,” I muttered.

  “Enough,” Dadan barked. “Listen up.”

  She looked between us. “What decides a fight?”

  “Strength and determination,” Ace said without hesitation.

  I almost agreed—then stopped.

  “Strength,” I said slowly, “but knowing when to hold back.”

  She shook her head. “Wrong. Strength matters—but experience matters more. That’s why you lost, Naruto. Salamander’s been fighting longer than you’ve been alive.”

  She paused. “He used to be Cipher Pol. Low rank. Ran into your parents once. Got crushed.”

  My stomach tightened.

  “He learned from it,” she continued. “You didn’t.”

  She raised her axe. “Come at me.”

  I thought I could do better this time.

  I was wrong.

  Ace charged. I followed half a second later—and that delay ruined everything. Dadan trapped Ace’s pipe, yanked him forward, and shoved him straight into my swing.

  My pipe clipped Ace’s shoulder instead of hers.

  I froze for an instant—just one—

  And her axe handle slammed into my ribs.

  Air exploded out of me. I hit the ground hard.

  “That,” she said flatly, “is what hesitation looks like.”

  We failed again. And again. And again.

  Over a hundred times.

  But somewhere between the bruises and the dirt, I started to see it.

  Strength meant nothing if you didn’t understand your weapon.

  I watched how she shifted her grip—back for reach, center for control, near the blade for pressure. Constantly adjusting. Never thinking.

  Ace muttered, “She’s not even treating it like an axe.”

  That’s when it finally clicked.

  I’d been treating my pipe like a sword.

  That was the mistake.