The Hero's Sword, Mother's Promise

I finished the rest of today's training. It was something the original Lashu had already lived through, sure — but stacked up against what Mom had put me through, it was downright pathetic.

Physical conditioning. Weapons drills. Close-quarters self-defense. Yeah, I get it now. Your training is so lame I almost pissed myself.

Abeiru, who'd been hauled off to the infirmary earlier, showed no sign of coming back out. I'd stabbed him as gently as I possibly could. What a baby, making a production out of that.

Only possible because Abeiru had just barely hit Runner Mid.

The truth was, even a single rank of difference between people who had a Force Heart was a pretty big deal. On the surface it looked like the gap between Iron and Bronze, but there were plenty of factors that split people apart even inside that gap.

I want to hit Challenger already.

"What happened to my son? Waaah!"

Abeiru's mother showed up midway through and made a scene. Even at a glance, the taut waist, hips, and ass her two-piece suit couldn't quite hide were a work of art.

Mushroom Appraiser, was it? I'd love to have her appraise my mushroom too.

She could wait. I already had a long list of women I wanted to fuck first.

We all gathered up and waited for the guard captain to come wrap things. Everyone was whispering about me.

"Still, though. Abeiru went to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Academy for a year and he still got wrecked?"

"Did he just go there to mess around? He lost to that guy?"

"Just look at the counter timing. Lashu's not somebody you can write off."

"Bullshit. He just got lucky. I would've done the same thing in that situation."

The reactions were split down the middle. I didn't care. If a hundred guys had been looking at me like I was a piece of shit, I'd just flipped half of them to my side.

The stance of the Leonhart Severing Sword Style was a lot like Muay Thai. Weight settled on the back foot, the blade held on a diagonal so you could cut from any angle at any moment. The real advantage was that you could mix in hand-to-hand whenever the situation called for it.

And on top of that, I've got a shota's build, which means every target on me sits lower than the other guy expects.

That mattered more than people thought. It forced the opponent to keep leaning their upper body down — and once they leaned, their face and throat got a whole lot easier to reach.

The days I spent drilling this sword style until it stuck were hell. Not that I was the one who actually lived through them.

I smirked. The guard captain arrived shortly after, dismissed us for the day, and made an announcement.

"There is an aspiring hero who turned in a particularly outstanding performance today. The Acting Lord herself mentioned him by name!"

Getting called out here was, for all practical purposes, the same as getting put on the Lord's wife's personal track. The crowd buzzed. The captain's beard bristled like a bandit chief's as he bellowed.

Applause poured in from every direction. They clapped with their hands, of course, while their eyes ran the full spectrum of human emotion. I didn't care. I just nodded.

"You trained well today, and you looked especially sharp in the sparring. The Acting Lord has assigned you a mission that may well prove to be a trial."

There was a kind of test waiting before you actually got onto the Lord's wife's line. Pass it, and you could earn serious trust — and maybe even patronage money.

Everyone went tense and leaned in to listen. The captain unrolled a sheet of parchment. Don't tell me it was "go slay a dragon." Right?

The crowd stirred.

"Whoa, that's actually pretty rough."

That was the general reaction. I answered evenly.

"Yes, sir. Understood."

The day on the drill ground came to an end. I clicked my tongue on the way home.

A Necro Slime. A nasty piece of work that channels its power through corpses.

Most of the time it was just a regular slime, but once it seized a corpse and started moving it around, it got vicious. It borrowed a decent chunk of whatever specs that corpse had originally possessed.

And there was one more thing — whether you were talking about the game or the original story, terrain penalties were a real mechanic. Head into a snowfield or a swamp and your movement speed dropped, your body temperature tanked, that kind of thing. Solving the penalty came first. Swamps in particular put a lot of constraints on movement, so I had to be careful.

Blacksmith's. Let's go.

The money I had on hand was ten gold. Not enough to buy a legendary sword like Excalibur, but maybe enough for an item that wiped out terrain penalties.

I walked into the forge and found a mountain of a man showing off a thicket of muscle, hammering a blade on the anvil. He glanced at me and snorted.

"Huh. Now even the little brats are showing up. What are you, kid? Want a piece of candy?"

"Mister, you wouldn't happen to have anything useful for swamp country, would you?"

"You mean like boots that cancel the penalty? You here on an errand?"

"That, and I also need a way to keep from getting dissolved by slime."

The mocking look was old news by now. I just kept talking past it, and the blacksmith finished what he was doing and came over. He was even bigger up close. The smell of sweat was no joke either.

"Listen, kiddo. You even good enough to hunt a slime? And the money? Bwahaha!"

I pulled out the pouch with my remaining coin and gave it a shake, then opened it so he could see inside, just in case. The sneer on the blacksmith's face evaporated in a heartbeat.

"Ghk— wha—!"

Of course it did. Imagine some brat you took for a greenhorn swordsman suddenly flashing a million in cash. I'd have been startled too.

I stared at him without a word. The blacksmith clasped both hands together. Look at that — suddenly polite.

"W-wait just a— I mean, please wait a moment, sir!"

He ducked back into the forge and started rummaging in a hurry. In the end, the two things that changed a person's attitude were power and money. That was true no matter where you went.

The blacksmith came back shortly with something in his hands. The first thing I saw was a pair of boots reinforced with extra iron plating.

"These ought to do it."

The specs weren't bad. They wouldn't make me faster or let me fly, but they were useful in their own right — and they were exactly what I needed right now.

"Nice. I'll take these."

I handed over the whole coin pouch. The blacksmith took it and rummaged through it like he still couldn't believe it.

"A kid with ten gold... well, I'll be damned..."

I pulled the boots on and walked a few steps. They weren't particularly heavy, and they didn't put any strain on my body. That was the fruit of Mom's training. Other people couldn't tell, but under the clothes I had a compact, densely muscled frame. Not that I could walk around shirtless, so the dismissive looks were going to keep coming. Don't worry. I'd become a hero before anyone else and turn every last smirk into a cheer.

"Hold on."

I was about to leave when the blacksmith ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠called me back. I asked what he wanted.

"Yeah?"

"Didn't think I'd actually be taking ten gold off you. You need anything else?"

"The legendary sword Excalibur. Or a Keyblade. Or a gunblade that fires shaped-charge rounds."

"The hell are you talking about? We don't have any of that! And even if we did, think about the price!"

"I'm kidding."

I said it to the blacksmith as he sighed and shook his head.

"Could I get a sword, then? Something that doesn't corrode easily."

"So you really are going after a slime. I've got just the thing, as it happens."

He held out a longsword — the one he'd been forging right up until a minute ago. I took it, gave it a lift, and checked the specs.

This setting still felt off. Originally the South was famous for beer and food, and the North for metal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and gems — in the game, anyway. But as far as I knew, in the original story the South was famous for its steel. So it really was following the original lore to the letter.

The blacksmith crossed his arms and declared it with pride.

"Forged from southern steel, no less. You know the saying, right? The North is timber, the South is steel!"

"I know it well. Are you sure I can just take this?"

"Of course! Looking forward to more good business. Hahahaha!"

Watching a blacksmith who didn't even try to hide his greed made me laugh. I liked the honesty. I gave him a suitably agreeable answer and headed home.

The second I walked in the door, Mom made a fuss.

"Son, you're back? Oh! You're all geared up! My goodness, the boots too. And the sword suits you!"

"Bought it with the prize money."

Sorry, Mom. When I got my first real paycheck I was supposed to at least buy you underwear. But if a fire-type like me did that, I'd buy the underwear, put it on you myself, and then fuck you in it.

"But why the iron boots...?"

"I got a mission. Hunt a Necro Slime."

Mom worried instantly. The universe's number-one son-obsessed mother, as always.

"Good grief, handing you something like that right from the start! Still — that means they trust you, doesn't it? It's going to be hard, though!"

"I plan on handling it just fine. Oh, right — I'm hungry. Heeung...!"

"Go wash up and let's eat, sweetheart!"

I went straight upstairs and washed. Yeah. This was it. This was the stuff. A hard day's work behind you, coming home to an evening where Mom — who might as well have been my wife — greeted you with a smile.

That said, I couldn't just fuck her for no reason. So how was I going to play this?

I finished washing and came downstairs to a delicious smell. I headed for the kitchen and tore into the meal. Mom watched me with a fond look, then poked my arm.

"Hee. Son. I think you've put on muscle!"

"About that age, I guess."

It had been there from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the start, just hard to see. Another side effect of the stunted growth and the shota frame.

"You're heading out on the mission first thing tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. I already know where it is. I'll handle it no problem!"

I wanted to show her confidence, at least in front of Mom. I had to let her see her only son turning into a man. All of it was going to be build-up toward incest sex!

Mom let out a short sigh. Even that sigh was so lush it colored the air around her. I studied her face. She looked worried, and at the same time she was smiling like she couldn't quite hide how proud she was. I wished that smile were pointed at me and me alone.

"To think the day would come when my boy would be given a mission by the Lord's wife herself."

"Haha. That's the baseline if you want to be a hero!"

"Even so! For a day like this to actually arrive. I was so moved! Of course, I also worry this means you'll go flying off somewhere before I know it."

Her eyes went red in an instant. Worrying was a full-time job with this woman. I would leave here someday — but only after I'd had every woman in the place.

"Mom, where exactly do you think your son's going?"

"Looking at your gear just now, I felt a little bad. I should have been the one to kit you out."

"The prize money wasn't that big."

More precisely, I'd blown most of it on Annie. I papered over it well enough, and Mom pouted.

"When you come back from this mission..."

Then she smiled, bright and lovely, a faint flush on her cheeks.

"Mom will give you a present!"

Thump.

My heart kicked without my permission. Had she just offered to break the mother-son line and let me in close?

No. Calm down.

"Ooooh, a present? I wanna know what it is!"

"I'll tell you when you get back! Hehe. If you're lucky, I might even throw in a hidden bonus? Huhu♥"

She even added a little smiling squint of the eyes. This was the same Mom who always worried about me, who always tried to fold me up in her arms like a rabbit. And yet in moments like this, she was a fox through and through.

Would you look at this vixen. A mother making eyes like that?

The kind of look that would reel anybody in! On the outside, though, I played along.

"Yes, I'll be looking forward to it. Mommm!"

"I believe you're only going to do better from here, sweetheart. Fighting!"

"Fighting!"

I finished eating and headed up to my room to rest, and a voice reached me. It was Isis.

"Huh?! Goddess, where are you?"

Ah. Right. Thank you for the encouragement.

I grinned and answered without a shred of hesitation. Was that even a question?

Fucking right I can.

What kind of bastard I was. How much further I was going to climb. I'd show them. Just you watch.