Of course, Hilda wasn’t truly upset that Caius hadn’t immediately jumped in to help her earlier.

  After all, he wasn’t obligated to do so. They were just sparring—playing around, really.

  She actually enjoyed this kind of interaction—it was something only genuine friends shared.

  After chasing him for a bit, Hilda finally stopped, sheathed her sword, and stood with her hands on her hips.

  “Next time, don’t you dare do that again.”

  “Of course. Back then we didn’t know each other, but now we’re friends. I won’t stand by and watch anymore,” Caius replied with a grin.

  “Now that’s more like it.” Hilda nodded, clearly satisfied with his answer. Then she exhaled and spoke sincerely:

  “Thank you, Caius. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have realized my shortcomings so quickly and precisely. That means a lot to me.”

  “It means a lot to me too,” Caius replied seriously.

  Hilda tilted her head, curiosity glimmering in her eyes. A moment later, Caius chuckled and said, “When you’re out in the world, what could possibly be more important than friends?”

  Her eyes lit up, and she broke into a dazzling smile.

  “Exactly!”

  “Come on, let’s take a break. I brought tons of snacks—we’ll need the energy!”

  “You got it!” Caius said cheerfully, following behind her toward the camp.

  As they walked, Hilda pulled out a bottle of healing potion and handed it to him.

  But Caius shook his head. “I don’t use that stuff.”

  “Why not? You’re hurt,” Hilda said, puzzled.

  “Exactly. And that’s why I won’t use it. I want my body to heal naturally—that’s how you build real resilience. The body learns to adapt, and your regeneration gets stronger with each recovery,” Caius replied with a completely straight face.

  “Look—my wounds have already scabbed over.”

  Only then did Hilda notice the injuries on him. The scabs were indeed forming, and some of the lighter wounds had even shed their scabs already, leaving behind faint marks that would vanish in a day or two.

  What astonishing regenerative power!

  She nodded in admiration. “Then I won’t use healing potions anymore either. I’ll train my regeneration!”

  “That won’t work,” Caius laughed.

  “Why not?” Hilda pouted, assuming Caius was underestimating her again. She figured that if he could do it, so could she.

  But the truth was, Caius could rely on this method only because of his giant’s physique.

  He really was training his regeneration through this approach—but only the unique constitution of the Boulderkin race could withstand such a method. An ordinary person might try, but it would be incredibly slow, inefficient, and ineffective by comparison.

  And as for why he drank a healing potion back when he first arrived in Ocean City and fought the Wolf Demon?

  That was just to test its flavor and evaluate its grade. Nothing more.

  Of course, that wasn’t something he could say.

  His giant’s body was a secret.

  So instead, he explained:

  “It works for me because of my unique constitution. I was born with great strength, so I recover differently. You, on the other hand, would just end up delaying your recovery and risking worse outcomes. So don’t try to imitate me, kiddo~”

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

  Hilda nodded but then scowled. “I’m not a kid!”

  “You’re a year younger than me. That counts as a kid in my book.”

  “Then what about her?” Hilda pointed at the approaching Kiki.

  “She’s a kid too.”

  “Then you’re technically employing underage teammates. That’s illegal, you know,” Hilda said with a sly glint in her eye.

  In the Hepos Empire, it was illegal to employ child labor. But only those under twelve were considered minors.

  Kiki just looked young—she was actually seventeen and thus legally exempt.

  Hilda was clearly joking.

  Caius knew that, but still put on an exaggerated pleading expression, clasping his hands together. “Officer, I’m sorry!”

  Hilda burst out laughing. Caius always managed to give her these unexpected yet perfectly fitting responses. They amused her to no end.

  “As long as you know you’re wrong. I’ll let you off this time~” Hilda hummed, before giggling again.

  Afterward, the three of them sat down for a proper afternoon tea, enjoying the delicious snacks.

  Kiki adored the treats Hilda brought. They were high-quality, far beyond anything she’d had before.

  As they ate and chatted, the two girls quickly bonded and became close friends.

  Once they finished their break, Caius resumed Kiki’s training.

  This time, though, he had Hilda take over for him—her stamina had recovered enough for a good spar.

  Caius had specifically requested this. Both Hilda and Kiki were agile fighters, but Hilda wasn’t just agile—she was deadly. Kiki had a lot to learn from her.

  Hilda was more than happy to help, and Caius stayed nearby to coach.

  The Little Swan was absolutely dominant. She didn’t even need to move—just a few well-timed sword swings were enough to block everything Kiki threw at her. The pressure on Kiki was immense.

  Which was exactly what Caius wanted.

  “Watch your strikes,” Caius said as he held a wooden stick and demonstrated. “Don’t lock your elbows when you swing. It jams your joints, and if your attack is blocked, the force will bounce back and might even dislocate your arm.”

  “Keep your elbow slightly bent—maintain a gentle arc. Watch my form… feel the power shift…”

  Caius demonstrated patiently, and Kiki watched intently, mimicking every move.

  After an hour of intense training from both Caius and Hilda, Kiki’s combat technique had been noticeably refined. Her movements were sharper, leaner, and more aggressive—though there was still plenty of room to improve.

  She was still wearing weighted gear, too. Under such high-pressure, high-intensity training, as long as she could endure it, her growth would be exponential.

  Even more exciting was what Caius had discovered. Perhaps because she was a Catfolk, Kiki’s body was incredibly coordinated and flexible—just like Hilda. She could pull off high-difficulty maneuvers with ease.

  In terms of agility, she might even surpass Hilda slightly.

  Most importantly, Kiki was ambidextrous. She wasn’t left- or right-handed—both arms were equally skilled.

  That meant she had the potential to wield twin blades.

  In his past life, Caius had specialized in dual-wielding.

  Which sealed his decision. Once they returned, he would forge her a dagger.

  He’d already thought of the name: Mewclaw.

  A perfect match for her current blade—Mewtooth.

  And the Mewclaw would be slightly longer than the Mewtooth—a pair of mismatched daggers, one long, one short. They would give the little Catgirl a more versatile combat style, though it would also demand more refined technique. Of course, Caius could teach her that.

  “So tired, meow…” The little Catgirl collapsed right onto the grassy slope, panting heavily.

  “You’ve done very well,” Hilda said with a smile.

  But Caius shook his head. “Not enough. It’s not just about using the weapons in your hands—Magic needs to be used skillfully too.”

  “Kiki’s been trying so hard already. That should be enough. Don’t be too harsh,” Hilda said softly.

  But Caius replied firmly, “No. If she’s going to be my teammate, then I have to be strict. That’s part of taking responsibility for her.”

  “Sweat now, so you don’t bleed later!”

  Hilda’s pupils contracted slightly as memories flashed in her eyes.

  Caius had stepped fully into his role as a devilish instructor, turning toward Kiki.

  “Don’t lie there on the ground. Get up and walk it off. Once I finish this cigarette, we start again!”

  Watching him light the cigarette, Hilda finally snapped out of her thoughts, unable to help saying, “But she’s already exhausted…”

  “She should be exhausted. There’s no such thing as getting stronger without pushing through fatigue. Or did you think you got here without suffering?” Caius exhaled a puff of smoke, letting it drift off with the wind. His voice was calm, but resolute.

  Hilda fell silent.

  She… had indeed come this far the same way.

  Her grandfather’s training had been just as harsh. She knew well how painful that kind of strict training was, which was why she didn’t want Kiki to be pushed too hard.

  And now, what Caius was doing reminded her so much of her grandfather’s relentless guidance.

  Back then, she had resisted it with all her might. She had trained through tears, and more than once had she resented her grandfather for it.

  But now, watching Kiki slowly climb to her feet again, gritting her teeth as she stood tall, Hilda suddenly understood—finally—her grandfather’s intentions.

  This… this is what it means to be responsible.