As usual, Tom took charge of dinner that evening, planning to try every recipe from the four-volume *X-Sea Culinary Methods Encyclopedia* and note down the dishes everyone liked.
Artoria sat upright, resting her sword across her lap, seemingly in deep contemplation.
The sword, named *Excalibur – Sword of Promised Victory*, was 115 cm long, with a deep blue hilt, golden guard, and silver-white blade that seemed to shimmer with hidden gold.
As a Noble Phantasm, it could manifest or hide at its master's will.
Artoria's current form might have been influenced by Zhang Da Ye's explanations about the swordsmen of this world: "A true swordsman can cut through steel when they want, but not even a piece of paper when they don't. It's not just brute force or Haki, nor merely relying on a famous blade."
Her traditional sword training was entirely different, but her clash with Shanks had given her some understanding of the combat style here.
Meanwhile, Zhang Da Ye prepared for the tavern's opening, checking that the glasses were clean, supplies sufficient, and stock of beverages adequate.
Though he didn't know much about alcohol, that didn't matter; he could gauge popularity by price. Patrons weren't connoisseurs, and a simple survey could determine which drinks to stock more.
The old sign outside the tavern had been replaced with a plain new one: *Da Ye's Tavern*. Simple, but fitting the local naming style.
Uncle Goodman, who had delivered the new sign, promised to bring some friends on opening day. Many were regulars of the previous owner. Zhang Da Ye jokingly offered them half-price, but Goodman declined, suggesting instead 10-20% discounts for opening day. Zhang Da Ye agreed, recognizing it was more about pride than money.
The next morning, Artoria asked, "Da Ye, what should I do for the tavern's opening?"
"Sit at the bar with Tom, drink tea, read the paper, and snack," he replied.
He didn't see the need for her to serve drinks; that didn't fit the setting.
"But I want to help," Artoria insisted.
"Then be the tavern's bodyguard. If anyone causes trouble, handle them. If anyone drinks without paying, handle them."
Artoria nodded earnestly. "And when no one's causing trouble?"
"Then join Tom at the bar, drink tea, read, and snack."
Artoria felt a bit dismissed but didn't protest.
Soon, the food Tom brought out distracted her.
A bite of beef—aromatic, delicious.
Another bite—chewing happily—pure bliss. Special effects almost appeared! Helping in the tavern seemed trivial now…
After the meal, Zhang Da Ye continued sword practice until his arms shook.
The next morning, Tom awoke first, sliding down the railing to fetch three bottles of milk and a newspaper. Finding nothing interesting, he neatly returned the paper to the bar and prepared breakfast.
Zhang Da Ye and Artoria went out for morning training. The yard was too small for running, so they jogged outside.
The duo—Zhang Da Ye and the golden-haired beauty in sportswear—attracted considerable attention. Observant townsfolk had already drafted exaggerated reports for the day.
During the jog, they chatted casually.
"Artoria, should I wear weights while running?" Zhang Da Ye asked, used to the curious glances.
"Sure. Once you can run around the island twice and still have energy, it's time to try."
Estimating the island's size, Zhang Da Ye thought it difficult now, but he had been gaining stamina quickly.
Artoria glanced at his arms. "Your arms are fine? Yesterday's sword training was intense."
"Woke up fine. Today, I can push harder," he said, bending his arms as they ran.
She mused, "You seem physically exceptional."
"Indeed, much better than before. Sometimes it's odd—starve and get skinny, eat a lot, recover quickly, like life restored," he explained, touching on Navy Rokushiki and "life restoration."
"Fascinating. If truly mastered, daily training could be almost without consequence," she remarked.
"Problem is, I haven't learned it. And it likely requires conscious control, which I don't feel," he admitted. "I'm more interested in Geppo—Moonwalk."
"Certainly, moving midair allows more combat options. But walking on air is strange; perhaps one must witness it to understand."
Creating a technique is harder than mimicking one. Even top martial artists can observe Rokushiki and copy or counter its movements, but creating anew is much more difficult.
The two continued jogging, returning to the tavern after circling two blocks.
Before the tavern opened, Artoria planned to teach Zhang Da Ye a new lesson.