An Unexpected Knack
After last night's attack ended, I was finally able to close my eyes for a bit. Sirien managed to keep the first watch for quite a while—longer than I had expected, at least. Her face was a tearful mess when she finally woke me with a cautious tap, but she had still endured it well enough on her own. She was just terribly afraid of the dark, struggling to fall back asleep.
"Sniff... the wind keeps rustling the leaves, and... it's making weird noises. I'm sorry, but could you stay with me for just a little bit? Just for a moment is fine."
"Instead of that, why don't you just go to sleep? You've worked hard enough for tonight."
"C-can I really? Then, just for a bit... lend me your hand again."
Just like that, I had one hand held hostage all night, which brought us to the present: a deeply slept Sirien waking up to a very painful morning.
"Teach me how to use a sword starting tomorrow, too."
"Teach me at least the basics."
The bold words she had spoken last night came to mind, but it seemed highly unlikely I would be teaching her any swordsmanship today. The young lady was groaning in agony from severe muscle aches. For Sirien, this was probably the first time in her life experiencing such a thing.
Crack!
"Hieeeek?!"
Sirien froze stiff as she tried to sit up. The popping of her joints echoed loudly enough for me to hear clearly from where I stood. It probably didn't actually hurt, but the fact that her body was making such noises seemed to shock her deeply. Her slightly parted lips practically screamed, I am in complete shock right now.
Her bright eyes went wide. Her crimson irises turned to me, filled with desperation. Sirien was stuck in an awkward posture—neither sitting nor standing. She didn't have the courage to stand all the way up, yet she was too afraid to lie back down. I watched with keen interest to see what she would choose to do next.
"Rajen! Is there something wrong with my body?"
"It's probably just muscle soreness. Where does it hurt?"
"My whole body hurts! I can understand why my legs hurt, but my shoulders, lower back, and upper back hurt too. Every little movement feels like my body is being wrung out. What do I do? Is it serious?"
What do you mean, what do you do? It's just muscle soreness, so you have to move around to loosen it up. If she were an ordinary person, I would have said exactly that and made her run laps, but unfortunately, my companion was a precious young lady. It would be best for me to show at least a little sincerity. Giving her a quick massage to loosen her up would help. I definitely wasn't doing this just to play a mischievous prank. A massage on sore muscles would hurt more than she expected, but hey, there was nothing I could do about that, right?
"Come here. I'll help you loosen up."
"Ugh! I-I'll be right there."
Sirien walked like a rusty, creaking robot. Her steps were unnatural and awkward. She was probably trying to find a posture that hurt the least as she moved. It was a pointless effort, though, since I fully intended to force her through some deep stretches anyway. More than anything, she could have just asked me to come to her, but that thought clearly hadn't crossed her mind. Since it was highly entertaining to watch, I decided to just wait for her. After all, they say those who make an effort are beautiful. In any case, Sirien only managed to reach me after her joints popped once more. Trudging over, she looked like a dejected puppy.
The moment she arrived, I grabbed her and began stretching her limbs. Mercilessly.
"Eeeek! Ra-Rajen, gently! Be gentle!"
"If I'm gentle, it won't loosen up."
"Aaaah! I'm going to hate you! I'll never forgive you! Well, maybe not never, but I won't forgive you easily! Kyaaa!"
So she would forgive me eventually, then. I've heard it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission anyway. I massaged her legs again, which I had worked on yesterday, and firmly pressed down on her aching lower and upper back to loosen them up. Though Sirien threw a massive tantrum afterward, she quickly quieted down once I coaxed her gently. Even in the past, Sirien had always been surprisingly easy to handle. I wondered what she was thinking now; her face was slightly flushed as she stepped away from me and stared into the distance. That direction was where the stalker had been following us. Was she worried about him after all? I didn't think too deeply on it.
After asking Sirien to prepare breakfast, I went to butcher the wolf we killed yesterday. Calling it "butchering" was a bit of a stretch, as it was more like tearing the hide and meat apart. Consequently, we didn't harvest much despite its size. There was a brief scene when Sirien shrieked in horror upon seeing me return drenched in beast blood.
We resumed our journey and walked until around lunchtime. I slowed our pace compared to yesterday, knowing Sirien's feet were covered in blisters. Figuring it would be painful for her to walk, I also increased our rest stops. It was the right call. Sirien struggled much less than yesterday, a fact proven by how much more talkative she became.
"Oh! Come to think of it, we agreed I'd learn the sword today. Will you teach me after lunch?"
"Sure, why not."
Sirien chattered away. She talked about how the weather was better than yesterday, and how the forest seemed to carry a pleasant fragrance from time to time. Her characteristic, baseless confidence was also fully intact. It seemed Sirien genuinely believed she had a knack for physical activities, convinced she would improve rapidly once she started learning the sword.
But as expected, Sirien had absolutely no talent for the sword. Forget talent—she struggled to even swing it properly. The sword felt quite large and heavy even to me, so it was bound to be overwhelming for her. Yet, it wasn't simply a matter of the weapon or her strength.
Surprisingly, her physical strength wasn't the issue. I hadn't known because she'd never had to use her own strength before, but Sirien's muscle power barely managed to pass muster. Of course, there had never been any reason for the Grand Duke of Ilencia's daughter to do hard labor, so there had been no opportunity to find out. After all, she always had plenty of people to do the heavy lifting for her.
But when I thought about it, there was no reason for Sirien to be physically weak. Until we ended up in that cabin, she had always eaten the finest foods and run around the castle with boundless energy. The elderly maids had struggled to keep up with her. In other words, she had a great diet and a high level of activity. Thanks to that, Sirien possessed the body of a very, very healthy twelve-year-old girl.
So when she first swung the sword a few times, I actually wondered for a split second if she might pull it off. When I told her she had a decent start, her eyes had sparkled.
"See! I told you I might have talent! Everyone's always said I'm a fast learner!"
"Well... you were certainly good at studying."
"It wasn't just studying. It was the same when I learned to dance. Once I master the sword, I might even become a better fighter than you, Rajen."
The young lady of Ilencia laid out her grand ambitions, but as I mentioned, the results were lackluster. Her initial swings felt decent. However, even after I corrected her posture, there was no noticeable improvement. It was as if she only improved exactly as much as she was taught, and not a fraction more. Of course, it wasn't bad enough to say she was terrible, but... this was Sirien, who had always boasted of her genius in everything she did. Compared to her usual standards, it was hard to shake the feeling that she was merely average.
Her application of force lacked precision. When she swung hard, she threw her entire weight into it, failing to stop the blade when she needed to check her swing. She did what she was told, but she only did exactly what she was told. Her movements were so stiff that there were too many flaws to point out. She struggled particularly when transitioning between two or more movements. To put it simply, she lacked the ability to improvise. Natural, fluid movement just wouldn't come to her. Then again, quick-witted adaptability had never been Sirien's strong suit. She would improve with practice, but it was unlikely she would ever reach a level that satisfied either of us.
"Hmph! I'm not doing this anymore!"
Ultimately, a thoroughly frustrated Sirien tossed the sword aside. Even in her anger, she didn't throw it hard, clearly worried about damaging the blade. Somewhere along the way, the young lady's wrath had become cheaper than a single sword...
"Is there anything else?"
"Hmm."
Something else. It wasn't that we had absolutely nothing. But our arsenal was limited. The only swords we had were the one I used and the spare I had handed to Sirien, and both were virtually identical in size and weight. As for what was left...
"A dagger and a hand axe? I have the dagger on me right now."
These were items I had scavenged from the corpses at the cabin. They belonged to the men who had died before they could even put up a proper fight. Neither seemed like a particularly appealing option. A dagger would be easy to handle, but it lacked practicality. To use it, she would have to get even closer than she would with a sword, which would make dealing with beasts like yesterday's wolf incredibly difficult. Sirien fighting a wolf with nothing but a dagger? I couldn't picture that ending well.
"If you're going to fight at close range anyway, an axe would be better than a dagger."
"Then I'll try the axe first."
"Are you sure? There's a reason people don't usually use them."
While an axe was easy to use and packed a punch, the issue of its short reach was unavoidable. This was especially true when the opponent wasn't human, but a monster with superior physical capabilities. I had no desire to hand Sirien such a weapon and call it self-defense. It might be a different story if she threw it, but teaching a beginner how to throw knives or axes wasn't something that could be done easily. Honestly, I wasn't very confident in axe throwing myself. It wasn't like I had practiced it much; I had only learned the bare basics in passing. I had merely been taught how barbarians threw them so I would know what to watch out for if I ever fought them. I recalled the motion being something like this...
"Can you watch and copy me? Grip the end of the handle, and keep your wrist like this..."
It had been so long since I last tried it that I wasn't sure if it would even serve as a proper demonstration. Fortunately, when I threw it, the blade managed to bite into the tree trunk. Then, it was Sirien's turn. I stood on high alert, prepared for the axe to ricochet in some bizarre direction, but my caution proved unnecessary. The axe Sirien threw embedded itself into the tree with a bite far cleaner and sharper than mine.
"Huh?"
"This is it!"