Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 003
Chapter Title: Chatty Sword Neria
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◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Sword Aura.
The ultimate technique of swordsmanship, capable of slicing through even steel.
Just being able to wield such a powerful skill earned one the status of a powerhouse among the Academy Heroes.
Even at the prestigious Previa Academy, among the elite of the elite, only the protagonist and a select few with exceptional talent could reach that level.
In that sense, Philip had certainly qualified to become an instructor at the academy.
'But strictly speaking, this isn't truly mine.'
He had merely moved his body as it remembered, without truly understanding the fundamentals of what it could do.
Could he really explain something he didn't comprehend?
Philip was absolutely certain he could not.
He might fool the students somehow, but fellow instructors or professors at a higher realm? No chance.
Of course, given enough time, it would be solvable.
But the time he had been allotted was just one week.
Catching his mind up to the level his body had achieved in that span was next to impossible.
'In that case, I'll need that.'
One particular item floated into Philip's mind.
An object that might be his worst blunder or his perfect solution.
If things went according to plan, it would buy him the time he desperately needed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Philip had been playing Academy Heroes for quite a while.
Even if he wasn't a die-hard completionist who'd cleared every challenge, some memory leakage was inevitable.
Yet certain memories stuck indelibly in his mind, no matter how much time passed.
Philip believed one such memory might just save his skin.
"Where the hell is it?"
On a wild hill a short distance from the academy—near the base of a peak he couldn't pinpoint exactly—Philip searched for a specific item.
'I have to find it by tonight at least. Time's really not on my side.'
Twigs scratched his sleeves, cheeks, and exposed hands, leaving scratches, but Philip pressed on, parting the underbrush relentlessly.
Fortunately, his body was sturdy.
Though years of debauched living had taken a toll on the frame he'd trained with the sword since childhood, it was still far superior to an average person's.
'Story-wise, they're definitely coming to my class.'
'They' meant this world's protagonists—or in Philip's terms, the playable characters. Having cleared the game multiple times, he knew full well how crucial they were.
Today was March 4th. In three days, on the 7th, new students would arrive, including brown-haired twins.
One of them was guaranteed to be this world's protagonist.
Players chose either the boy or the girl as the lead; the unchosen sibling would be selected as a disciple by Archmage Ilroksina, a close friend of Previa Academy's Dean Helbern, and leave the academy.
Meanwhile, the chosen protagonist endured a semester of 'Philip's' tyranny and the loneliness of isolation, making friends and growing stronger until, just before break, they beat Philip senseless and drove him out.
Under normal circumstances, that would be the end of Philip's tale.
But Philip had zero intention of becoming unemployed so soon.
'Forget the tyranny—first, I need the skills to actually teach those kids. If I don't want to get fired.'
An instructor's role was to teach. If the teaching fell short—not the students' issues—getting booted was par for the course.
That's why the item he needed was the very one he was hunting now: Chatty Sword Neria.
An item no sane player would ever use. It boosted 'Swordsmanship Proficiency' growth but spiked the all-important 'Stress' parameter to hellish levels—a total trash item.
In the game, he'd always scrapped it at the decomposition shop. But for Philip now, it was a godsend.
It was the only 'ego sword' obtainable at this point in the story.
The blade was embedded somewhere in these mountains.
"Oh. Oho!"
Philip soon uncovered a clue to Chatty Sword Neria.
Spawn locations were randomized, but perfect randomness didn't exist in games.
There were patterns to the spawns.
For a veteran like Philip, those patterns were more familiar than traffic laws.
"Near the squirrel-shaped rock, right?"
Recalling a line from an in-game character, Philip began scouring the area.
He quickly spotted a sword at the bottom of a shallow stream, its blade caked in what could only be called water moss—utterly wretched condition.
"This is the legendary..."
Philip closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He only vaguely knew what pulling this sword entailed.
If the wielder didn't suit the sword's tastes, their stress meter filled instantly.
Philip, who knew exactly how vital stress was in the game, didn't take that warning lightly.
Steeling himself, Philip squeezed his eyes shut and yanked the sword free. An instant later, a girlish voice echoed in his mind.
"Eek, a handsome big bro! You're Neria's new master, right?!" It was a bubbly, cute girl's voice.
Philip paused. Not as bad as I thought, he mused.
A cute voice was pleasant to hear, after all.
But he soon learned that was a grave misjudgment.
"OmgIcan'tbelieveitI'vebeenwaitingandwaitingandwaitingalltheselongyearsafterallthatfinalllyyy I meet a master who fits Neria perfectly! All my previous owners were these burly ugly mean old hags and geezers and it was sosososo painful and hard and now a handsome big bro is my master I just can't believe it thank you I love you from now on Neria will be a good girl and stay with bro forever and ever so promise you won't throw Neria away okayyy?!" "Gah, fuck!"
Philip convulsed and desperately flung the sword away.
"Waaahhh! Don't throw me away! Pleeease! Master! Big bro!" The discarded sword flopped around on the spot like it was possessed.
How the hell did kids endure carrying this thing?
Philip felt genuine respect for any child who'd stuck it out.
Gathering his resolve, he picked up the ego sword again.
The blade trembled violently, as if sobbing.
"Why! Why'd you throw me like that?!" "S... sorry. You caught me off guard."
At his apology, Neria seemed somewhat appeased. The trembling stopped, at least.
".... Okay? People get startled sometimes. Neria's got a big heart, so I'll forgive you. But never throw Neria like that again." "Got it. I promise."
"Mmm, anyway, big bro passes. You're totally qualified to wield Neria. You've got talent, and you're handsome too. Plus, you were abandoned near the academy, so I was worried some kid might pick me up." "...Why?"
"Cuz kids who haven't even gotten their first period... ahem! Kids aren't Neria's type. Neria likes handsome beautiful big brothers and sisters." Philip finally understood the secret behind this trash-tier ego sword.
The reason kids' stress spiked with it?
Its tastes were just that picky.
Fortunately, Philip seemed to fit the bill.
"Glad I suit you. I need your help, after all."
"Help?" "Yeah, see..."
Philip gave a slightly edited version of his situation.
He'd lost his memories, so all his swordsmanship knowledge had vanished.
And he had to start teaching kids in a week.
Once he finished, Neria seemed to get it.
"Not a big deal at all. But! I've got conditions." "Conditions? What kind?"
Philip hesitated briefly.
Maybe it was better to chuck this ill-mannered ego sword somewhere unreachable and grind training for the week.
"Nothing tough! First, wash Neria nice and clean. And when you sleep, keep Neria right by your side." They were simple enough, so Philip agreed.
Gripping Neria, he trudged back down the mountain.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ After a thorough cleaning, Philip lay in bed in his pajamas.
It was only 11 a.m. Too early for a nap.
'Is this really the way?'
He agonized over it, but at this juncture, following the ego sword's advice was his only option.
'Chatty Sword Neria' had instructed him to place her—her sword body—on his chest and sleep.
"Master swinging the sword alone won't do squat." "...Why's that?"
"Solo training builds form into your body, but you're the opposite. Your body's ahead of your head. Just trust Neria and let go. Close your eyes, relax your mind. Come on." Her voice seeped into his subconscious like a hypnotist's.
Philip slowly shut his eyes.
"What do you see?" In a daze, Philip replied.
"Nothing."
"That's your future, Master." "What?"
"Neria's little joke! Now what do you see?" As she said, his darkened vision blurred, then lightened.
Soon, a white backdrop appeared, with endless dirt ground stretching out.
Then shadows—human silhouettes.
The shadows shimmered like heat haze before rising from the earth, slowly regaining their original forms.
"What now?" "...A woman who looks like a mercenary."
The shadow gained color and volume, becoming a bronze-skinned mercenary woman wielding a shortsword slightly shorter than an arm's length, clad in leather armor.
"Pretty?" "Healthy build. Kinda nice."
She had bold, rugged features. Neria snorted softly.
"Hmph, that wild boar hag has zero charm. Anyway, you've got me in your hand. And she'll see you as a threat to her family, friends, and life. She'll charge to kill soon. What do you do?" In that scenario, there was only one choice.
"...Fight."
The moment Philip muttered it, the mercenary swung her shortsword viciously. Her feral killing intent pricked his skin like needles.
In a flash, Philip read her center of gravity.
'Her swing's fierce, but too much weight on her front foot. That means I've already won.'
The next instant, Neria in Philip's grip moved. He effortlessly parried the shortsword.
Aiming at her now-exposed vital spot would end it.
But Philip couldn't swing.
"...Hngh."
He couldn't breathe. Agony beyond mere pain wracked his body and mind.
The mercenary's right foot had nailed his groin dead-on.
Philip snapped awake from the brief dream.
"......"
He didn't scream. No tears.
He just clenched his eyes shut and endured.
Neria was impressed by his superhuman willpower.
"You okay?" Philip couldn't answer. Opening his mouth might unleash the scream he'd barely contained.
"...That boar hag was Neria's sixth master. Weakest and nastiest of the bunch. Lived as a spinster till forty, got betrayed by some barfly she toyed with, and died." "Didn't need to know that much."
Finally easing out of the pain, Philip shook his head.
"So, you summon my past wielders in dreams to build combat experience."
"Yup! Train like this with the time left, and you might see results." "...No dialing down the pain?"
"Neria can't do that." Hearing the ego sword's shameless tone, Philip had a gut feeling.
This was going to be the toughest week of his life.