I had some time to think, over those ten years. I couldn't spend every waking moment training. Well, even after I'd modified some exercises to be more or less continuous, it might be more accurate to say that I could easily ponder other matters while I trained.

I spent a lot of time pondering over that conversation with the fox woman. There were times when I was tempted to track her down and apologize and do whatever it took to get back those power ups that she had been so ready to hand out. The more time went on, though, the more confident I felt in my own position.

Of course, if we met again, I would still be no match for her. I still remembered that fearsome force that had so easily brought me to my knees. Even if I focused my entire will on projecting magic outwards and imposing my will on the environment, the most I could inflict on somebody was mild inconvenience. I shuddered to think what would happen if she grew angry enough to exert herself.

However, just because she'd been able to push me around didn't mean I had to give in. I was confident that I was right: selfishness is a basic human motivation, not something to be ashamed of. Channeled properly, selfishness was the driving engine of progress that could lift a society from nothing to the heights of modern industry.

I knew my new country wasn't going to reach the heights of technology that I had experienced in my old life any time soon, but I could still establish the basic point: people working to pursue their own self-interest would, absent outside intervention, tend to work together in ways that left everybody better off.

The problem was that my new country was full of outside interventions.

When the lord of the neighboring prefecture could march in at any time and seize everything you owned, it naturally tended to discourage any sort of investment in the future. Even the lord of your own prefecture could inflict grievous losses upon you in the name of supporting his army and providing for the common defense. Taxation was a necessary part of maintaining civilized society, of course, but the arbitrary and capricious seizure of personal property hardly deserved to be dignified with such a label.

In order to establish a productive economy, the nation would have to be unified under a central government. Of course, that was hardly a task that I could accomplish by myself. I could pitch in and help, though. I figured our local lord ought to have a decent shot at grabbing the brass ring, or his parents shouldn't have named him Nobunaga.

Even if the name was a coincidence, the simple fact was that the Ota holdings were ideally located for an ambitious warlord with dreams of hegemony. They were fairly wealthy, as such things went, and sat close to the Imperial capital. Goodness knows that I had taken simulated Oda armies on conquest sprees enough times that I thought the same thing ought to be doable in my new reality.

As for my role in things, well, if I wanted any say as an administrator, it was going to be an uphill climb. I was a woman, after all. I had harbored some hopes that the existence of magic might have tilted society towards more gender equality, but that proved not to be the case. From talking to Mama Matsu and sounding out Kana on the subject, women were only ever expected to exercise soft, indirect power, except in some very rare cases where a woman might act on behalf of an indisposed husband or an underaged son.

However, there was one great equalizer: military performance. Whether it was a matter of rising from a peasant to the highest halls of power or simply overcoming bias based on gender, all such obstacles could be washed away by impressive performance on the battlefield. Especially if that performance was in service of the warlord who ended up taking over the whole country.

Pursuing that path was also my best bet when it came to my own well-being and personal autonomy. I wasn't somebody who would organize my whole life around proving a god's messenger wrong, after all. Securing a plum administrative position in the new central government would provide the perfect foundation for me to live the life I wanted. That it would also let me stick a thumb in the eye of that stupid fox was a lovely side benefit.

That did leave the practical question of when I ought to make my appearance and start earning brownie points from Lord Ota. Even after all my training, I wasn't quite sure that I was ready to take on a real sword saint in combat. I had some idea of the minimum standards expected of sword saints based on secondhand stories, but relying on conjecture built on top of hearsay was necessarily imprecise.

I could use my wooden sword to slice off a fly's wings while it was in flight, which I thought ought to be a similar test of speed and dexterity to cutting a bullet out of the air, so I should at least meet the bare minimum requirements. It was hard to say any more than that when I didn't have anybody of proven ability against whom I could test myself.

Kana tried her best, but she always came out second best in our spars. In a way, it was good for my ego to win all the time. On the other hand, though, it meant that I didn't have a firm grasp of where I stood. Obviously Kana wouldn't be safe on the battlefield, but that didn't mean that I necessarily would be. Still, if military service was the only way forward then I would eventually have to take the risk.

It was a few days after my seventeenth birthday when rumors began circulating of an invading army approaching that I knew that it was time for me to go. The best time to impress somebody with a military performance is when they're in a desperate need. Joining the army wouldn't even be increasing my own personal danger: I'd certainly much rather take on the invading forces as part of Lord Ota's army rather than have that army come upon our village with only myself and Kana to act as defenders.

I felt that I had to let Kana know, even if it did lead to a difficult conversation.

"Are you sure you have to go?" she asked.

I nodded. "It's time."

Coming in later when I could have come in during the Ota clan's hour of need would always put a damper on their evaluation of me. Even if I would have liked to hide and put in a few more years of training, at some point I would need to experience real combat in order to improve.

"It will be dangerous!" she said.

"Lord Ota is a skillful general," I said. "Besides, I think I can take care of myself."

I was fairly confident in my ability to run away, if nothing else. Thanks to my regular practice with Kana I could move through the forested hill next to our village faster than any of the animals that lived within. Unless I had completely underestimated the average skill level of true sword saints, in which case my plan was doomed to end in tragedy either way.

Still, I refused to live out a peasant's life married to some farmer and wasting away, pining over what might have been. That was exactly what the fox lady had tried to inflict on me with her taunts in my game interface. I refused to let her have her way.

"At least let me come along," she pleaded.

"Absolutely not. It's dangerous," I said. She gave me a look. "Aren't you getting engaged soon, anyways?"

She shook her head. "I told my parents I'd only consider marrying somebody who could best me with the sword."

I stared at her. "But you lose to me every time."

"My parents can't find another sword saint that easily," she said, smiling, before she put a dramatic finger up in the air. "I know! One last spar! I'll win and prove that I deserve to follow you!"

I sighed, but I couldn't really argue. If she could beat me, then my logical argument for leaving her behind would fall apart. I made a promise to myself as I followed her to our usual practice clearing. I'd be giving this fight my all. I wouldn't have some fluke of luck propel my friend onto the battlefield.

We reached the site of our duel and took up position ten paces apart from each other. I drew my wooden sword from where I kept it tied to my belt. She followed suit. We both bowed, then brought our swords up to a guard position. I was still looking up at her, as she had retained her annoying advantage in height through the years, as well as more generous proportions in general. Fortunately, magic was a great equalizer.

For a long moment, we didn't move.

Although to the naked eye we did not appear to be doing anything, the battle had already begun. Perhaps the most useful magical "spell" for the battlefield that I had discovered consisted of pushing magic out into the air to saturate it and form an invisible mist around me. I had developed the technique during my ongoing attempts to replicate the fox lady's suppression field.

While I couldn't use the free floating magic to directly disable opponents, it was still incredibly useful. Anything that moved within my little cloud of magic would register to me without seeing it. Indeed, it would register quicker and more accurately than the naked eye. This was the key to, for example, cutting off a fly's wing or catching a bullet in flight.

In addition, moving through a cloud of my own magic was quicker and easier than moving through normal space. Conversely, pushing through a cloud of somebody else's magic would slow me down and dull my senses.

When fighting against another sword saint, the first step of the duel was the contest for control over the arena. Our magical power clashed as we fought to establish our domains.

As usual, I was the winner in this stage. Kana put up a spirited resistance, but I had more magical power and better control over the power that I had. My magic pushed hers past the halfway point between us and stabilized about two thirds of the way to her feet. She grimaced, acknowledging the disadvantage she was already facing, and moved forward.

As expected, her movements were impeded as she entered my zone of control. I could track her initial charge with plenty of time to shift to the side and send a spoiling attack at her throat.

She wouldn't be defeated by such a simple maneuver, of course. She brought her own wooden sword up in time to deflect my strike with a sharp clang. She spun off of the force of it, bringing her sword around in a big roundhouse swing that would end our duel in one move if it connected.

Despite my best efforts, Kana had kept her love for the dramatic through all of our training. Well, I'd indulge her this once. With a quick flex of effort and a magical assist, I jumped up into the air. While the dream of magical flight was still far off in the future, I could reduce my weight by quite a bit. I hung in the air as her swing passed beneath my feet.

The unexpected lack of resistance made her follow through overly violent. Kana was too skilled to be wrenched from her feet by that alone, but when I flipped my magical efforts from reducing my weight to increasing it and crashed down to earth, bringing my sword down in an overhead blow, she was too far out of position to do anything about it.

I caught her hard across the back, sending her sprawling. She recovered enough to tuck into a roll and regain her feet, but when she turned back to me and raised her sword once more I shook my head.

After a moment, she sighed and lowered her weapon. During our spars we used magic to enhance the strength of our swords, but we limited their penetrating power. That meant that the magical shroud we maintained around our own bodies could deflect attacks. It was necessary to have a rule like that in place so that we could spar vigorously without risking the loss of life or limb. In a real battle, though, no opponent would be so courteous. Tests under controlled circumstances had shown that putting a similar amount of magic into attack and defense would lead to a win for the attacker. Thus, my one hit was enough to decide the duel. Much as she disliked the idea, Kana wouldn't be following me to the field of battle.

"I'll keep practicing!" she insisted.

I smiled. "Good. You need to be able to take care of yourself."