I didn’t know whether he’d heard I was some sort of genius and assumed I had an inflated ego, and wanted to beat some sense into me, or whether he was genuinely trying to gauge my strength. But judging by the smug grin on his face as he looked down at me—even if it was only natural for him to look down on me, given his height compared to mine, it still irked me—I was starting to suspect it was the former.

Retrieving the wooden sword I had been given by my parents, I walked to the edge of the camp, where Adam was waiting near a small clearing.

“You do know how to reinforce your weapon, right, genius?” he asked, emphasizing the last word.

By this time, my father seemed to have already sensed that Adam was trying to put on a show of dominance over his little boy, but he just watched, knowing he wouldn’t hurt me too badly.

Many thanks, dear father.

My mother looked a bit more anxious. She kept glancing back and forth from me to Adam to my father, keeping a firm hold on Father’s sleeve.

At least Mother was there to heal me if I got hurt. That was a small consolation.

I focused my gaze on Adam, who was about fifteen feet away from me. Images from my past life—dueling other kings for the sake of my country and those I loved—popped into my head. My eyes narrowed, restricting my vision to only the man in front of me. He was the opponent now.

I willed mana into my legs and dashed forward, both hands gripping the wooden sword as I lifted it to my right.

His expression still twisted into a smug smile, Adam prepared to block my horizontal swing, but I feinted. Using the special footwork I had developed for dueling in my old world, in an instant I had blinked a foot diagonally to his right.

Curse this body! I hadn’t reached the spot I’d been aiming for—because of the height and weight difference of this smaller body compared to my old one, I hadn’t executed the technique perfectly. Still, unfortunately for Adam, he had already positioned his stick to block my swing from the other direction, so his right side was unprotected.

His smug look vanished and his eyes opened wide as he realized what was about to happen.

Swinging at his open ribcage, I waited until the last moment to reinforce my wooden sword with mana to conserve my own mana, because I knew I was at a disadvantage against a veteran like him.

Adam’s look of surprise lasted but a split second before he pivoted on his right foot with almost inhuman speed. I squatted in time to dodge his upward swing, and switched my stance from a thrust to a spinning swipe, using all my momentum to land a blow on his left ankle.

Adam’s leg gave out at that moment, throwing him off balance—or so I thought. He actually did a full split before hoisting himself up on his hands to execute a low roundhouse kick.

I knew this body wouldn’t be able to take a hit like that, so I jumped up to dodge his legs. Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw the flash of brown from his wooden stick. With no time to bring my blade up to block the swing, I thrust my sword pommel first into the arc of Adam's wooden stick.

The physics lessons I’d studied in my old world suddenly came to mind. Newton’s Third Law of Motion: ‘For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’

The opposite reaction was painful indeed. While I did block the blow successfully, my small body was no match for its force, and I was launched into the air before skipping across the ground like a flat rock on a lake.

Thankfully, I had reinforced my whole body before the blow landed. Otherwise I could have been seriously hurt. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my throbbing head. Looking up, I saw seven stupefied faces staring at me.

My mother recovered first, shaking her head. She rushed toward me and immediately mumbled a healing spell. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Durden thumping Adam’s head with enough force to make him stumble forward. I couldn’t say I was unhappy at the sight.

“Art, honey, are you okay? How do you feel?”

“I’m fine, Mom, don’t worry.”

Adam’s voice cut in. “‘Haven’t taught him how to fight,’ my ass! How the hell did you train this little monster?” he groaned, one hand gingerly prodding at the lump Durden had given him.

“I didn’t teach him that,” my father finally managed to say. He shook himself out of his stupor and came over to ask if I was okay. I just nodded. Then he picked me up and carried me back to where I had been sitting before. He lowered me back down gently, and squatted in front of me so he was at my eye level.

“Art, where did you learn to fight like that?”

Saying, “Hey dad, I was the King Duelist representative of my country, in a world where diplomatic and international issues are settled by battles. I just happened to be reincarnated as your son. Surprise,” seemed unlikely to get a hearty reaction from him, so I decided to feign ignorance. I put on an innocent face and said, “By reading books and watching you, Dad.”

“Sorry for roughing you up there, little buddy,” Adam muttered. “I didn’t expect I would need to use that much strength to get you off me.”

Adam’s apology gave me a slightly better impression of him. Perhaps he wasn’t a total ass.

A hushed voice came from my left. “Your fighting style is… unique. How did you do that step after the feint?”

Two complete sentences! That was by far the longest string of words Jasmine had said this entire trip. I felt almost honored.

“Thank you,” I responded, and organized my thoughts before trying to explain, step by step, what I had done. “It’s a simple technique. Since I was feinting to Mr. Krensh’s right side, I placed my right foot forward as the last step before the feint. Then I instantly focused my mana into the right foot, pushing myself back. At the same time I brought my left leg behind the right, aimed at an angle toward where I wanted to go. I focused mana into my left foot this time, but with more power than I used on the right so that I didn’t propel myself backward instead of the direction I actually wanted to go.”

That was a mouthful.

I watched as Adam, Helen, and my father headed toward the clearing to test what I had just explained. I turned to face Jasmine, but saw only her back as she rushed toward the clearing as well.

Mother sat down next to me, patting my head with a gentle smile on her face that seemed to say, ‘you did well.’ Angela scooped me up, burying my face—or, rather, my whole head—in her bosom, cheerfully exclaiming, “Cute and talented, aren’t you? Why couldn’t you have been born earlier so this sister could snatch you up herself!”

Blushing, I willed myself away from her voluminous bosom. I couldn't help but feel awkward at the sensation of being crushed into her breasts while my mother and the rest looked on. This was, I suppose, another one of those things a normal three year old wouldn't have to worry about.

My guardian angel, Durden, was much calmer about things and just gave me a thumbs-up. I was beginning to like him.

The other four adults spent most of the night trying to master the feint-step, while I slept in the tent with Mother.