Before he sparred with Helare, he had his first semi-real bout with Collab. Collab was using his sword, and Rafe was using his hands. The only way Rafe knew how to train someone was how both Liam and Noid had approached his early training.

He'd probably need new training methods of his own soon, but for someone who never went through training with Skyholm this method would work. No techniques, minimal stats, minimal skills. It was just the basics, building up foundations.

He'd had Helare spend a bit of money to buy stat suppressing items from the system market. The ones they'd got were cheap and low quality, but they'd supposedly suppressed Collab down to late F grade, although he could break through them easily with his aura if he wanted. These were specifically built for training and not detaining criminals.

It was still a struggle for Rafe to keep up with Collab. He was not yet even near the middle of F grade, and he did not have any techniques that used unarmed combat as a base. Yet. He did not have any such techniques yet.

This was a doubly profitable training situation. He could teach Collab in exchange for the old man's help, and he'd also be able to get back into the groove of trying to create his own all weapon technique.

He hadn't considered a lot of things when he'd first tried to create it. First there was the effect it would have on his skills. But that didn't matter yet anyway. Improving his skills through techniques and truths was not something he could do until he'd solved the problem of energy for his upgrades.

Collab was great when he fought with techniques. Rafe had seen it before. Without them, he was great because of his strength, but not much else. They hadn't been fighting for long when a panting Collab decided to call time.

Rafe had thought they had been fighting for a short time, but it was relative. He was used to fighting beings leagues above his own, who had more resources and power to throw around. It was instinctive for Rafe to switch to a more evasive style with the help of his Puppeteer's Rubber Body the longer a fight went. In simple terms, when Rafe was genuinely pushed by Collab, he'd defaulted back to what he was used to: much longer fights. He hadn't won any of the individual rounds though, but it seemed like he had more tenacity than the E grade hybrid fighter.

"I see," Collab said as he frowned at his sword.

Rafe wasn't sure what he saw. It seemed too early for the old warrior to be getting any revelations. One fight couldn't be enough to explain his whole philosophy to the blue haired man, could it?

"You've learnt something?" Rafe asked.

"Yes," Collab said emphatically. "I need to step back. I need to learn how to wield the sword first, and then the techniques and magic will come later."

Rafe scratched his head. He did not have any comments. That was exactly what he'd intended to teach him, but most times people like him were rigid. He was a veteran of many battles. More than Rafe perhaps. And he had trained the strongest person on this planet. If anyone should be arrogant, he should.

"That's right… I guess," Rafe said slowly.

"Hmm? Why do you sound surprised I learned this so fast? Isn't it obvious? Anyone who was trained like this and took more than a month to learn the importance of the exercise is blind, don't you think?"

Rafe had had a smile on his face when Collab started speaking, but the more the man said, the more it twitched.

"Why, if they were a trainee of mine, I'd have them travel with me to an icy peak, and then I'd have them run around in their loincloths without tent building supplies at night. I mean, I'd be worried enough for their future..." He shuddered, utterly incapable of comprehending such an apprentice.

"Is that so?" Rafe said, his smile widening even as it no longer reached his eyes.

"For sure, for sure. I'd tell them to think about their life choices, but I'd bet their thinking faculties wouldn't be that strong if this was so challenging."

Collab went on to graphically describe how he would treat trainees as lousy as Rafe had once been. Rafe felt sorry for the man's future trainees, and he also took a moment to commiserate with anyone who had to deal with any kind of teacher. Teachers were the enemies of ignorance, but ignorance was bliss. Teachers deprived Rafe and his fellow slackers (although he was only a slacker in his mind) the bliss that was ignorance. They should all die, just like every kid who was happy and popular in highschool.

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"That was something," Helare said when she came to him a few minutes later.

"Don't think I didn't notice you slacking off there at the end," Rafe told her as he got to his feet.

The princess only shrugged. "I thought I'd watch to see what kind of training you were planning for Collab. Turns out you really do love to train people like this. And this method works?"

"Worked for me," Rafe said thoughtlessly.

"It did?" Helare said. "But you don't seem particularly impressive. I mean you only know one move of one technique and you're not even very good at it. How is that supposed to inspire confidence?"

Rafe froze, thinking he'd given the game away again, but looking in her eyes, they had a knowing glint. Her words replayed in his mind, and from the tone he'd not been paying attention to, he figured she was probably being a bit sarcastic.

"Haha," he replied mechanically. "You want to have a go, then, PRINCESS?"

Helare snorted. "Yeah, Rafe. I'm a princess. I know you're jealous you can't be one, but please try not to let it show."

Rafe groaned. "I shouldn't have told you about those stupid fights at my sister's tea parties. In my defense, I really thought her tiaras would make me look cool. I was five years old, for goodness' sake."

They laughed about it for a bit, but then Helare lost her joviality.

"Do you think they would look good on me?" she asked. Rafe found himself freezing, paying attention. "These…tiaras?"

They did not have tiaras on Primus. The king had a mantle, a kind of wand that was the only symbol of power the Ma'la allowed. All else was determined by the bloodline, by one's hair and eyes.

Rafe did not know what she meant by her question. No, maybe he did. Maybe he knew what she meant, but he pretended he did not know. He did not want to think about it. He did not want to think about a possible future with a princess. He was leaving the planet in a week.

And so he did not answer her.

During their spar that day, the words hang between them. Rafe did not acknowledge them. For to acknowledge them would mean a new dynamic to their already very complicated relationship.

It was a terrible weight to foist onto his heart. He was already wondering how she'd live once he'd left this planet behind. Recently she seemed to be planning all her time around him. She worked when he worked, ignored all her duties when he was free, and she was delaying her exit from the dungeon for the official report to the palace, her home. At least according to Filoria's ominous warning.

Rafe hadn't asked her about that yet. Now he might never get the chance.

Completely avoiding her was impossible. She was the one who approached him these days. He wondered what that brazen attitude of hers signalled, but again he decided not to think too deep about it. He couldn't completely avoid her. It was not up to him.

What he could do, however, was close himself off. This comfort that they'd developed around each other. Him calling her Hel and her calling him Rafe, he should end that. Well, he couldn't end her calling him Rafe, but he could try not to call her Hel and hope she didn't notice before he disappeared.

He was going to be like a spring breeze. He entered her world for a brief moment, blew up a storm, and left. Maybe blowing up a storm was too strong an expression for the impact he thought he'd had on her, but the impact she'd had on him? Now that was a thunderous impact. He would never forget that he'd almost had a chance with a princess. In his defense though, who could?

He was distracted, and he was trying his best to hold back as Helare was almost equal to him in terms of physical stats. She was almost at the peak of the F grade, but her physical stats were laughable. She had a veil almost comparable to Rafe's somehow, but she was at his strength level nonetheless. No one this close to Rafe in strength in the tutorial sector had the slightest hope of beating him.

So he held back to not demoralise her. He might have held back too much though, because a basic thrust of her new spear had Helare breaking into his guard. Rafe reacted fast, pushing his thigh out of the way. She had gone for it, and it hadn't been as protected as more vital parts.

Rafe cursed internally as this was a strategy he had used when he was learning to bypass veils. Go for none threatening attacks, and you could break through any defense.

Rafe evaded the attack, although it was close. His hand shot out and grabbed the haft of the retreating spear.

"Not so fast!" he declared triumphantly.

Then his racial ability sensed the familiar blue mana. His hand froze on the body of the spear before he could even process what the appearance of the mana signalled, an ice spell holding his hands hostage.

"That's cheating," he said as he peeled himself off the spear and retreated.

Helare only shrugged. "I thought your idea was that I use both magic and melee fighting in case someone gets close. I think what I just did would have maybe worked in a real fight."

Rafe grinned in spite of himself. Even with his new resolution, he couldn't help it. He liked spending time with Helare.

"Oh honey, that wouldn't have touched me in a real fight," he told her.

She turned red, like clockwork.

"What are you…you're doing that on purpose, aren't you? You…you frustrating man. I beat you today you know! I'm going to tell the whole camp I beat your ass because you were distracted."

He'd taught the innocent princess to cuss when she was frustrated. That was maybe the biggest impact he'd had on her life. He did not notice the other girl watching them from the shadows. She was a better stalker than Helare had been before.

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