Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Adventure Begins
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Attack.
No time to think of anything else.
Chills ran down my spine, and my body slipped out of my control.
Seeing that choice get selected, I let out a loud shout.
My body wouldn't obey my will, but at least I could yell a warning.
"Grandpa! Get away!!!"
I screamed until my throat was raw, and right after that, my body moved.
The sword was drawn.
Never once had gripping a sword and attacking a person felt so natural.
The old man showed no hint of doubt at my cry and drew the sword he'd always carried with him since he began training me.
They clashed.
Clang-! A grating metallic screech rang out through the antique shop.
The old man instinctively turned his sword on me.
He seemed flustered but stayed calm.
The old man wanted to take stock of the situation first, but he couldn't afford to handle it so carelessly.
Even with Autonomy, I still hadn't fully regained control of my body.
I bit my lip.
I gripped the sword in a reverse hold.
I placed my hand on the table and slammed it down.
-! A horrific sound rang out as my hand was pierced through, pain flooding in—I wanted to scream.
But I knew that if I screamed here, neither I nor the old man would come out of this unscathed.
I bit down on the forearm of the hand gripping the sword to stifle my scream.
Tears flowed. Cold sweat and blood trickled down, soaking the floor.
[Autonomy? That's seriously lame.]
A voice tinged with annoyance and a hint of regret.
It seemed peeved that I'd defied the order but brushed it off like no big deal.
[That NPC's weapon looked so damn good... What a shame... Wanted to kill him and pass it to my main.]
A remark utterly devoid of humanity—I wanted to spew curses, but the pain clogged my throat.
Since I'd bitten my forearm to hold back the scream, my mouth filled with the thick taste of iron.
[Eh, whatever... I just came to change the nickname anyway, so no biggie!]
She'd made me attack the old man purely for his sword, but now that it had failed once, she brushed it off like it was nothing—disgust welled up inside me.
[My main deserves the nickname Rie, right? Not some loser like this.]
Acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world while casually renaming me—my grip tightened on the sword.
But I was powerless.
I couldn't do a damn thing.
The old man took a moment to assess the situation, then slowly approached with his sword still pointed at me.
Even though it hadn't been my will, I'd attacked first, so getting attacked in return was unavoidable—but it still felt so unfair.
[But seriously, what the hell is up with this one? Even if neglected, Swordsmanship F is kinda ridiculous, right? My new char from three days ago is already at B. This one's a lost cause from the start.]
A playful tone, followed by frivolous laughter as if the situation was some kind of joke.
I didn't want to hear it.
If I could, I'd rip that mouth apart.
Who the hell made me like this, and why was she spouting such garbage?
The old man took another step forward.
[Abandonment-Type-1? That's way too lazy. At least make it sound like a real name.]
[Just reverse it: Eri. Hmm, kinda meh... How about Ellie?]
The old man took another step forward.
He reached out a hand toward me.
[There... perfect! She's Ellie now. Won't be seeing her anymore anyway.]
With those final words, I felt control of my body return to me.
The voice fell silent.
Somehow, I'd gotten through it.
The old man approached and pulled the sword from my pierced hand, tossing it to the floor.
He lifted my injured hand to inspect it, let out a groan, and looked down at me.
"...Ellie."
He called me 'Ellie' like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I hated it.
I was furious at my own powerlessness, but even more than that, I felt sorry.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
I hadn't attacked because I wanted to.
But I knew saying that would just sound like an excuse, and the sheer unfairness of it made tears well up.
There was nothing uglier than a grown man shedding tears,
but the harder I tried to hold them back, the more pathetically they flowed.
"I know you didn't start this of your own volition..."
I dreaded what would come next but had no choice but to brace myself, so I lowered my head.
"Even if it wasn't your will, I can't keep living with someone who suddenly thrusts a sword at me."
"...I understand."
It had all happened so abruptly.
If the old man hadn't reacted, he would've died right then and there.
He would've perished pointlessly, and his sword would've ended up in the hands of that newly created character out of sheer greed.
I'd never even seen that new character before, but resentment toward her boiled up inside me.
Judging me as inferior compared to her was one thing, but trying to kill the old man who'd spared my life for her sake—that was unforgivable.
But once again, I was powerless.
"That said, kicking you out as you are would be the same as sentencing you to death. I'll teach you everything I can over the next few weeks."
"...Pardon?"
"Frankly, it's hard to understand. This might end up sharpening a murderer's blade."
The old man said that, yet he picked up my sword to examine it.
The bloodstained blade didn't gleam.
"But I saw you endure that pain to suppress yourself at the end. I want to believe in that."
"I'm sorry..."
"Let's treat that wound first."
With that, the old man fetched a box of medicines and bandaged my hand.
It hadn't been on purpose, and since it had pierced flesh rather than bone, the injury wasn't as severe as I'd feared.
That day, we exchanged no words.
We slept, and the next day was silent too. We simply dove into training without a word.
We didn't shine any doubts on each other.
We just acted like it was the natural thing to do.
His promise to toughen me up enough not to die a pointless death within a few weeks didn't seem like empty words.
The old man's instruction was no longer light—it was heavy.
It was harsh. It was frightening.
But I endured.
I knew it wasn't because he hated me, but because he felt sorry that we couldn't stay together—he was training me out of kindness.
Our first encounter had been born of his goodwill, as had our time living together.
And now, he was helping me out of goodwill too.
So I had no right to complain.
I wasn't some animal pup—I was a human who knew gratitude. Even with my hand throbbing in pain, I gripped the sword. And when week three arrived, the results finally shone through.
Military Swordsmanship F → E
Your small stature and constitution that resists building muscle make you ill-suited for swordsmanship. Your talent is also shallower than most, leaving you inferior in every aspect.
However, through your efforts and the guidance of an exceptional teacher, you've advanced one step. Now, you can finally claim to possess something resembling 'swordsmanship'.
"At this level, you at least won't get beaten to death by some street punks."
From the old man's words, I realized it was time to go.
That evening, the old man began packing my things.
I didn't have any belongings to begin with.
It was all stuff he'd prepared for me.
"Listen carefully. Take the sword you've been using, but if anyone questions why you're carrying it, say it's a delivery errand if you can pass it off that way. If not, claim it's just for self-defense."
Hard to mess with a delivery runner without knowing what trouble might follow.
He was telling me not to reveal that I could actually use the sword.
"If you're not strong enough—no, even if you are—using the sword should be your absolute last resort. The moment you swing it and hurt someone, you'll forge a karmic tie, and those ties aren't easy to sever."
The old man murmured in a small voice, as if recounting a tale from his past, and I nodded.
"I've packed three silver coins for travel money. Should've been more, but Ellie, as you know, the shop isn't exactly thriving."
"N-no, it's fine! Really!"
It truly was.
If anything, I was the one who owed money.
Room and board had been repaid with shop work, but sword training was a whole different calculation.
"I've added jerky and bread too, but it's only enough for five days, so restock the day before it runs out."
"...Grandpa."
"Something on your mind?"
"There's just one thing I'm wondering... Why are you being so good to me?"
"...Just reminds me of my daughter."
"...I'm sorry."
I felt like I'd asked something I shouldn't have and hurriedly apologized. The old man blinked twice, then gave a light smile.
"What for? She's alive and well—married, even has a kid."
"Huh?"
"Son-in-law set up this antique shop in the first place. What weird ideas are you getting?"
"Then why bring up your daughter...?"
"She miscarried. If it'd been healthy, it'd be about your age now..."
I really shouldn't have asked.
Sensing the heavy air, I glanced around cautiously, but rather than blame me, the old man continued packing and explaining.
And so, as dawn broke on an early morning...
"Then, I'll be off."
"Head to the Adventurer's Guild first. Being a newbie adventurer beats being known as slum trash any day."
"Grandpa."
I looked at the old man and forced open my reluctant lips.
"Your name... please tell me."
"...Leon."
"...We've lived together for almost seven months, and I'm only hearing it now."
"Sorry I have to send you off like this."
Rather, the fact that he'd protected and taught me all this time despite my sword swing was an unforgettable kindness.
"It's okay... I'm the one who's sorry."
I bowed deeply in farewell and walked away briskly.
Dragging my feet would only breed regrets.
The goals of my adventure were twofold.
Find a way out of this godforsaken situation.
And hunt down and kill that newly created character of that godforsaken player.
The streamer too, if possible.
The dirty looks from passersby on the street now felt utterly commonplace.