2-6 The Forest

I held the long wooden sword in a high guard position, waiting for my opponent's move.

The moment I saw his foot slide forward, I matched it. This was the "after-blow" technique—a counter.

My thrust aimed at his weapon was brushed aside, but it halted his momentum. I followed up with a strike to his torso while maintaining distance.

In an instant, he flowed with my force and closed the gap. Without panicking, I released the wooden sword and drew the short knife from my waist—the compact wooden blade.

In this situation, I'd lose nine times out of ten, but switching to my sub-weapon when the opponent entered my range had become quite smooth.

The reason I used a long wooden sword and a dagger-sized one was because of the old man's one-liner: "Practice with something close to your real gear."

That said, I wasn't wearing a helm. Once you start thinking and moving, the restricted vision is a real pain. Plus, the slight wobble is distracting.

Maybe I should buy some headgear that's easier to move in.

"...Guh."

I could fully block or dodge every attack, but I buckled under the ensuing reversal—a flurry of feinted thrusts—and dropped to one knee.

"Not bad, you're moving better, but you lack ingenuity."

The old man's critique was straightforward, as always. Same old "learn by watching" routine.

"Yeah..."

I caught my breath and stared at the ceiling. We were borrowing the guild's training grounds, but since it was nighttime, it was practically ours alone most of the time.

"It's good that you're not just spamming cheap thrusts from a safe distance—you're going for counters now."

A rare follow-up comment. I listened intently.

"But your starts are too predictable and easy to handle. Don't just follow patterns like a fool with one trick. Throw in a feint or two."

"Yeah..."

My drive not to lose to the old man—or get beaten to a pulp—had made me think more strategically. That was progress, I figured.

I still had a long way to go, but if I could apply martial arts the way I did magic, analyzing and adapting on the fly, I'd improve.

After all, I'd survived this long with flashbangs, magic, and dirty tricks from my magic gun. Scheming was my specialty.

"How's Sarsa doing?"

While I was catching my breath, Sarsa often got tips on dagger work. I hadn't asked for it—it was all the old man's initiative.

"Sarsa-chan's got straight, clean, textbook form. She's got talent."

"Hey, what happened to 'don't be a one-trick fool'?"

"You protect her, so it's fine."

What the hell is this Sarsa fever? She was popular with the old man at the worksite too. Guess my theory that plain faces don't sell was off.

"...When you're a mercenary, you mostly run into tough girls or twisted ones. A quiet girl like Sarsa-chan, who props up her master without standing out... it hits different, y'know?"

"Ah, the crane in the junkyard principle. Or gap moe?"

"What's that?"

"Never mind. Sarsa, hand me the wooden sword."

"Yes."

Sarsa picked it up, and I stood again. Our unscheduled training stretch had dragged on, but we'd resume forest exploration tomorrow.

I wanted to steal every technique I could while I had the chance.

"Got spirit, huh? Come at me."

That day, too, I couldn't land a single clean hit on the old man and ended up kicked to the ground.

"Oh."

Lounging on the cramped inn bed, I checked my status—and Swordsman had leveled up.

"Huh. Probably from actually picking up some technique."

Great news.

And I'd acquired the Great Swordsman job.

If this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠magic sword counted as a greatsword, I'd been using it for a while, but hadn't gotten it until now. Maybe because I hadn't focused on greatsword-specific footwork.

Well... with Swordsman covered, I had no plans to use it.

Apparently, around level 10 in Swordsman, Slash Slight Boost upgrades, or you pick up Heavy Strike, an attack booster.

Skills acquired and levels vary by person, so don't get your hopes up.

Extremes exist—like getting an ultimate technique at level 10. In a game, it'd break balance and get called trash. But this is reality, so whatever.

Even if you get a strong skill early, you might lack the MP to use it. Pros and cons.

For me, a long-range attack like the old man used in hunts would be ideal. Something that ignores magic resistance.

As for Magic Bullet from Mage, it was about as expected. Focusing magic without attributes fires an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠energy shot.

MP-to-power efficiency is way worse than my magic gun.

The gun kills with ~2 MP to vitals; Magic Bullet needs ~5 MP for slightly less.

No attribute conversion means instant spam. No charge time, unlike the gun's magistone lag.

Overall, decent for suppression or warning shots.

Bonus: palming off rapid blasts or lobbing big energy balls is manga-cool. Super fun. Yell a special move name for max effect.

Sarsa gives me the side-eye, so I keep it moderate.

"Sarsa, forest starting tomorrow."

"Yes. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I've got a route, but tomorrow's goal is pushing deeper."

"...No need to tell Tsutsu?"

"Eh? Nah, we're not that close."

"I see."

He's the dissection guy. I could ask for another mock battle if I felt like it.

"Daily fees and mock battles are burning silver fast. Sarsa, you've got dissection down pat now."

"Yes. Anything beast-like, I can handle."

"I'll help with heavy stuff. You're on dissection duty."

"Yes."

From my first gross giant inchworm to now, amateur monster butchering was over. Nostalgic. That stank...

"Tomorrow, grab a new dissection knife first."

"Agreed, we need proper tools. But money...?"

"Money... tight. Old man's fees put us in the red lately."

"Postpone the knife?"

"Nah, we need it now. We'll be broke, so cheaper inn after."

"Overnight instead of day trips to save on lodging?"

"...Yeah, time for camping."

Head straight north, skirt the forest north. Exit west before dark, find camp. There's a tent spot nearby from before—best bet. Parties might block it if crowded.

"Alright, decided. Time to... prep for tomorrow."

"Bedtime?"

"Blow off steam."

"..."

I pinned the exasperated Sarsa and enjoyed her thoroughly. Can't be careless at camp. Vital morale boost. That's what I grind for.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Short hops to shallow forest edges lately, so smooth sailing.

Weaving through trees deeper in. Not too dense, with game trails—easy going.

Before spawn points and royal control, nobles managed it properly.

Deeper in, plant monsters like black orbs and jawplants ramp up.

Black orbs: that chewy, wood-ear tentacle food. Tentacle-only attacks, annoying volume, but fire magic neuters them.

Forest fires give pause, but doable without— just slower. I douse thoroughly post-fire, so fine... hopefully.

Jawplants: plant-like with animal mouths. Various species, lumped as jawplants. They chomp passersby—humans included—so monster status.

No threat if first strike. Magic or Sarsa's arrows, attack till silent, with margin.

They stay still mostly—hard to spot. Even Aura Detection misses motionlessness.

"Visibility dropping. I'll watch front and movers; you cover up, sides."

"Got it."

Rear's covered by Aura Detection—no ambushes. Jawplants? Just front watch.

Ups scary. Voices, no visuals. Overhead dives suck.

Soon, pink rock-thing twitching ahead.

"What? No aura, slow mover."

"Big bug?"

Bug?

Observing: bug legs from rock base.

"Ah, hashum."

Monster guide: hermit crab-like.

"That shell looks heavy... pitfall time?"

Slow, so time. Hand to ground, remote Mudswamp.

Hashum notices, but sinks in mud under shell weight. First-timer, so magic gun and arrows till safe, approach.

Arrow in shell gap, but legs wriggling free.

Sword to scissor base, dissect weak spots.

"Phew, stopped. Tough defense."

Gun weak—maybe magic resist too.

"Dissect?"

"Shell needs muscle—you watch surroundings."

"Thanks."

As expected, knife slips; hour for magic stone.

Clean shell bits too.

Pink rock? Bulky, leave. Thought dissection done— nope. Just role split. Sarsa handles most clean/fast now—huge relief.

Deeper, more hashum—tough/annoying, sometimes bypassed. Good Mudswamp stops 'em, but scissors strong—stay sharp.

Spotted fast shishifuka, flee on disadvantage—no kill. Need trick for those.

Midday break by gut clock, alert eat rations, resume—forest rustles.

"...What?"

Trees rubbing, birds fleeing, animals bolting. Silence-trained ears catch anomaly. Incoming.

Before our bush: huge person.

~2m—not extreme, but burly/muscular. Short legs, long arms, subhuman. Green skin, no eyes/nose. Big machete right hand.

"...Game creature."

Troll? Gritzo, per guide. Illustrations suck, but green giant no eyes/nose matches.

Gritzo hacks ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠brush, single-minded search.

"Shit, heading here."

"Yes."

Sarsa's voice shakes. Yeah, scary. Not puny goblin.

My job.

Grip sword, job switch.

MP-heavy, but Mudswamp terrain—expose soil to bog.

Exit careful, face Gritzo across mud.

"Guooo... Gua."

No eyes/nose—how? Turns delayed.

Gun few shots: legs/head.

"Guaaaa!"

Rages charge, mud snag. Long arms crawl out quick.

Damn, Mudswamp bust!

Close: holster gun, high guard sword. Machete up/down.

Dodge careful, counter wrist. Air Pressure push—no budge.

Machete swings: sword check, hold range. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Blunt hit bad news.

Arrows stud mouth. Gritzo yells, stumbles. Chance—self Air Pressure, full lunge kesagiri thick torso.

Blood spray, but machete clips—left shoulder throbs.

"Tch."

Air Pressure force distance, gun spray no-aim.

"Gigiiaa!"

"Master, you okay!?"

"Yeah, arm moves. Less damage than thought."

"Don't push!"

Lunge hasty? Should be sneakier, my style.

MP check: 15 left. Power shots, 3 gun, holster.

Target left leg shredded, head arrows galore—no quit.

Tank. No magic, hot rock bear level?

Sword ready. Stall—Sarsa weakens with arrows. No rush, self-talk. Firewall up, cautious giant face.

Dragging foot, bleeding, swings simplify.

Dodge few, no commit. Telegraphed, slowing. After exchanges, angle sword parry flow.

...Good. Feint wrist, Air Pressure spin-boost.

No lunge—rotate slash neck. Drops machete, stiffens. Throat hacks, thrusts.

Countless hits; Gritzo blood-spits, flops back—snapped back.

"...Phew, got it."

"No injuries?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, took one... nah, fine."

Shoulder roll—no issue. Lucky.

"No recklessness."

"Yeah, reflecting."

Defensive magic pre-lunge = no hit. Hot-headed bad habit.

"Rest. I'll dissect."

"Yeah, on watch."

Low MP, but Aura Detection fine. End here today.

Wait stone extract, west out forest. Overshot north bit, but tent spot pre-dusk.

"That hassle for just a magic stone? Bad trade."

"Yes."

Expected—went knowing. Guide: strong, tier below hot rock bear. Nullified bear magic? Felt equal. Maybe Gritzo worse.

Long arms beat Mudswamp; weapon range lost close-up.

Gritzo stone pitch black. Varies per individual—color/shape/attribute unique.

Price unknown—gacha monster.

Fun that way.

Tent spot: us + young trio. Rookies? No hostility, tired—Don watch, early sleep.

Tomorrow again.