Father and son stood by the boundary wall.
A gust of wind rolled in from the distant hills, tugging at the hems of their clothes.
Heavy clouds pressed down like a low-hanging ceiling, drawing the sky and earth closer than ever.
Philip stared at the chipped stone where wind had worn away the wall's outer layer. The smile on his face had long since faded.
Allen, on the other hand, tilted his head back to gaze up at the sky, squinting with a carefree grin, as if waiting eagerly for the rain to fall.
Neither spoke.
Then—spring thunder cracked.
Plap.
A fat raindrop landed on the wall, the sound sharp and solitary.
At last, someone broke the silence.
"Allen, you're even more capable than I imagined… and sharper. These past years…"
It was Philip's voice, softened more than usual, and as he spoke, the faint plap-plap-plap of rain multiplied around them. The passing spring squall had come in sudden and strong. In the time it took to say one sentence, a curtain of rain had descended, dense as silk, draping both their forms and stitching the heavens to the earth.
The second half of his sentence followed in the downpour:
"You've suffered, haven't you? I've done you wrong."
Allen turned to glance at Philip, whose gaze was lowered to the wall. Rain soaked their shoulders and backs, blurring the contours of their figures in a misty outline.
Allen, using the internal flow of Water God Style, activated a thin veil of battle aura—that formed a shield around him. The rain split before reaching his body, running parallel along the folds of his clothes from an inch above his skin.
Untouched.
His robes hadn't even dampened.
"You haven't wronged me at all. I know exactly how House Boreas works. As for suffering? That's not what I'd call it."
"The Capital's great. The Water God Style dōjō suits me perfectly. Even if I don't come home for ten days or more, no one minds."
"I've had freedom."
Philip remained quiet in the rain for a while, saying nothing.
Allen couldn't help but chuckle. There was no bitterness in his words at all. Before he had fully integrated into the Greyrat household, his attitude had always been that of a player navigating a game.
James couldn't stand seeing him excel? Fine—he'd just stay far away.
The dōjō was full of people. Most of them were pleasant to be around. And the few who weren't? He'd spent years meticulously schooling them in etiquette until even their insults sounded polished.
And then there was the long-haired black-haired girl who had lost her parents young, cheering for him at the sidelines—just like him.
How was that not the good life?
Things were different now, of course.
But even less worthy of complaint.
Because now—he had a family.
Not one tied by blood, but one that the soul of his past life, Allen, had truly come to recognize as his own.
His family, here in the world of Mushoku Tensei.
Who says I can't be a "family guy"?
Damn right I'm gonna be one.
Allen snorted and said aloud:
"You're so serious. Relax. You don't have to tiptoe around it—we both know you're just here to stake a claim in the Capital's power structure, maybe even take a shot at the next head of the house. Coming all the way out to Buena Village to find me and Rudeus—that's your groundwork, right?"
"But are you sure... that we can really be the paving stones on your road forward? I'm just a lowly Water Saint. He's just a Saint-rank magician. You don't actually think killing a nest of monsters makes us that impressive, do you?"
Philip didn't bristle at Allen's blunt words. He had expected this—expected the younger boy to cut straight to the heart of it, even if his choice of words was a bit harsh. But for someone like Philip, that kind of talk was... normal.
He wasn't one to sugarcoat either.
He smiled again.
"Allen… I know how talented you are with a sword. Don't sell yourself short. Even your raw strength alone is already invaluable."
"At least—that's what I thought before I came."
Allen turned to him.
His voice cut through the rain like a knife:
"Before you came?"
Rain dripped from Philip's tousled hair, the brown curls clinging to his face—but he didn't care.
"Yes. Before. But now, I realize… it's not just your skill I admire. It's your mind. Your potential. You're only eleven. And from what I understand, you spent most of your time training at the Water God Style dōjō—barely even got personal guidance from James. It was through sheer swordsmanship talent that you made a name for yourself in that place, earning your reputation among the Capital's swordsmen."
His voice trembled slightly.
Whether it was the chill of the rain—or the fire in his heart—was unclear.
His words quickened.
"Even so—despite that—you've already matured this much. Your potential goes beyond what even you can see. Come back to Roa with me. I'll teach you everything I know. In time, you and I will reclaim the House Boreas seat of power. The future is—"
"I refuse."
Allen cut him off mid-sentence, smirking inwardly.
My Mushoku Tensei quests are structured in arcs. This whole Capital power struggle might barely overlap with the Asura succession storyline later in my teens. Why the hell would I stick my feet in this mud pit now? Miss a milestone score and I could screw up meeting Roxy.
Absolute nonsense.
Philip chuckled softly, as if he'd expected that too. He didn't even lift his eyes, just gave Allen's rain-proof battle aura barrier a glance.
"No need to rush. Let me finish."
"As a swordsman, I know you crave strength—I can see it. Your current level proves you never stopped striving forward. A Water Saint already? That's news to me."
Allen pressed his lips together, neither agreeing nor denying it.
Philip continued.
"Come to Roa. I can provide you with better teachers—far better than Paul. Teachers truly suited for your talents."
"You've probably heard the name before. The Sword King—Ghislaine. She's the only currently active King-ranked practitioner of Sword God Style. I'm guessing after all your years in Water God Style, what you really lack… is a proper Sword God instructor."
"As for what I said earlier—maybe I was just being sentimental."
He turned to face Allen directly, his words half-swept by the wind and rain.
"Your swordsmanship—your pursuit of strength—it matters, of course."
"But I want you to know this: compared to strength… power is even more alluring."
"Because—"
He extended his palm. Rain splattered across it, water streaking through his fingers.
"When you possess power, strength will naturally follow it."
"You've been aiming in the wrong direction. You shouldn't limit yourself to being just a swordsman. Your true stage is the Capital."
Allen narrowed his eyes at the rain, a faint, unreadable smile on his face.
Philip watched him for a while, then something in his gaze flickered—a flash of disappointment.
"Don't be so quick to refuse. What I mean is, whether you accept my offer or not—"
"I'm willing to have Ghislaine teach you swordsmanship. That's my sincerity. For four years. Until you're fifteen."
In Asura Kingdom custom, birthdays are marked only at ages five, ten, and fifteen. Fifteen means adulthood—the point at which one steps out from under protection and takes on the world.
Philip's voice blended with the falling rain.
"After that, the world is yours."
"Even if you choose to leave me then, that's fine."
Allen raised an eyebrow at that. Finally, he gave Philip a real look, interest glinting in his eyes.
"To take, one must first give?"
Philip's gaze sharpened, the appreciation in his eyes practically tangible as it roamed Allen's face.
"So—will you accept what's given?"
Allen tilted his head, smiling slightly.
Then turned to leave.
"I'll take it."
His figure faded into the curtain of rain.
Behind him, over the hush of wind and storm, his voice echoed back: