Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Will Dwells in the Sword (8)
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After changing into the new chest armor that Emilia had handed me.
To check the state of my current outfit, I stepped in front of the full-length mirror. Reflected inside was a woman who looked unmistakably like a knight, standing tall and proud.
Especially since the unnecessarily large and heavy chest was now covered by the armor, the dull impression it gave had diminished considerably.
The full plate armor enveloping my entire body still felt awkward, but moving in it was manageable enough.
It was probably thanks to the attack and defense boosts from reaching level 5, which also provided some assistance to my strength.
In the original game, full plate armor like this would have been impossible for Lilith to wear, so I'd been a bit worried. But at least it didn't feel so heavy that I couldn't move properly.
I'd originally imagined just changing from my maid uniform into training clothes for this.
But Emilia's atmosphere made it clear that I had to don this full armor, and that's how I ended up like this.
Still, the advantage was that my chest was firmly secured and wouldn't jiggle. ...Though putting it on was a hassle, taking it off would be just as much of a struggle.
At times like this, I really envied Emilia's figure right beside me.
A modest chest and a healthy, well-balanced body without any excess fat.
In my past life, that athletic type was my favorite female body shape, so her physique was enviable beyond words.
In contrast, Lilith had an overly large chest that made her look dull—a true one-trick charm in terms of looks.
...Of course, as someone who'd benefited from that charm in various ways, I had no right to complain.
After Emilia guided me on how to fit the slightly oversized armor, the final step was selecting a 'weapon' for the spar.
And once again, it took me no small amount of time.
"...You still haven't decided?"
"J-just a moment. Let me swing a few more."
"......"
Emilia shot me a strange look from the side, clearly urging me to hurry, but there was nothing for it.
To maximize my chances of winning in this rare spar, I needed to be thorough.
As for how experience points accumulate in training facilities... honestly, I don't know the exact formula.
I had no reason to know such details in the first place. It was just a facility where you dumped unnecessary characters before moving maps and picked them up later.
Still, I had a grasp on what made the experience gain high or low.
Duration, level, and the character's completion rate during training.
Duration obviously refers to how long you leave them in the facility—the longer, the more experience, which anyone could understand.
Level means the character's level when deposited; naturally, higher-level characters grow slower. A character that's already learned everything and is strong won't gain much from a training facility.
And completion rate is the measure of how much the deposited character actually learned—a realm where the player has zero control.
In Luminor Academy, training facilities were just drop-off and pick-up spots. There were no mini-games where you directly controlled the character to earn experience.
Once deposited, you could only pray they performed well and achieved a high completion rate.
...But now that I was the character in question, the situation had flipped completely.
The spar opportunity: at most three rounds, maybe just one. A fleeting moment too short to even call a duration.
And level was something I couldn't adjust at will anyway.
So the only variable I could control was the 'completion rate' equivalent: my performance in the spar.
To squeeze out maximum experience in this short time, I needed to maximize that 'completion rate.'
Absolute victory. Even in defeat, thrash desperately until the last moment.
At least until I hit level 6, I had to pour everything into this spar.
So naturally, selecting a good weapon—one of the keys to victory—took time.
I picked up and set down swords that all looked similar, feeling much the same each time in my mind.
'This one's a bit... too heavy too.'
Even at level 5, swinging an iron longsword on top of full plate armor was burdensome.
Going into the spar with a weapon unfit for my body meant I couldn't land a proper attack and would lose pathetically.
If I could use magic, even a rookie soldier would be no match, but revealing that I could use magic now would cause more than just a commotion.
So, the moment I resigned myself to picking the lightest weapon available...
"......Huh?"
My eyes caught a single sword placed in the corner of the preparation room.
"I'll go with this one."
"......Pardon?"
"This should do it."
"No, Lilith. Don't joke around—pick a proper weapon. Your opponent will be using a longsword. How do you plan to face them with that?"
"Better to use a weapon suited to my body than an unfamiliar longsword."
"But, Lilith..."
Emilia tried several times from behind to swap the weapon in my hand, but my resolve was already set on this.
With this weapon alone, even Lilith's body could handle a rookie soldier sufficiently.
As long as I had this 'dagger' in my right hand.
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Emilia hoped this was all just a bad dream.
Praying that this reckless maid, who had boldly requested to join training against a rookie soldier, wouldn't get hurt was already a desperate situation.
Her stress had built up watching Lilith pick up and set down various swords as if playing a game.
And when Lilith finally set aside all proper weapons and picked up just a single dagger for the spar, Emilia felt her head spin.
'She's definitely going to get hurt... Maybe even seriously...'
Of course, since they used blunted blades in the mock arena per its purpose, serious injuries were rare.
But that applied only when similarly skilled people fought with comparable weapons.
Adult male vs. adult female.
Rookie soldier vs. maid.
Longsword vs. dagger.
No matter how she thought about this overwhelmingly mismatched pairing, Emilia's mind went blank.
Ethan's earlier threat whispered in her ear again.
'The moment that maid gets even a small scratch anywhere, I'll carve an unhealing scar in the same spot on your body.'
-Gulp.
...What if the maid's injury in the spar wasn't just a 'small scratch'?
What if she tried blocking a sword with her arm and cracked a bone?
Or swung her hand clumsily and accidentally severed a finger?
What if she took a hit to the helmet, suffered a concussion, and collapsed?
All sorts of grim imaginings swirled in Emilia's head, unsettling her deeply.
If Ethan's favorite maid Lilith suffered anything worse than a minor injury, there'd be no way for her to save her own neck.
She regretted slapping herself a week ago when protesting the merit records to the captain—deeply, from the bottom of her heart.
To survive this, she needed to make a decision.
'No way. I have to stop her no matter what.'
Even if it meant getting scolded by Ethan later for defying orders on her own, letting this spar happen was even more absurd.
To boost her survival odds even a little, this spar absolutely could not proceed.
Ethan didn't seem thrilled about this training anyway, so blocking participation likely wouldn't lead to punishment.
With her mind fully made up, Emilia tried to dissuade the advancing Lilith from joining the training.
But her words were soon naturally cut off by the maid herself.
"Lilith, you should really stop. There's no need for you to gauge the rookies' skills with your body..."
-Clap!
"...?!"
Lilith, midway from the preparation room to the mock arena, suddenly clapped her hands in place.
Startled by Lilith clasping her hands and gazing at the air, Emilia's words trailed off.
'Is she suddenly praying...?'
Standing still with hands clasped before the spar, Lilith looked for all the world like a praying girl.
Emilia stared, entranced, at Lilith's solemn expression gazing into the void.
After a brief prayer of a dozen seconds or so, Lilith lowered her hands, turned to Emilia with a faint smile, and spoke.
"Sorry for cutting you off. I had something to prepare."
"...N-no, it's fine."
"As for what you were saying—I have no intention of backing down. No matter how much you persuade me, I'm going through with the spar."
"......"
"Besides, I'm going to win anyway."
Emilia followed Lilith, who strode confidently toward the arena, as if entranced.
At this point, her only coping mechanism was one thing.
'If it's come to this, she better win...'
That this maid Lilith was truly skilled enough to solo a Hookernanny.
And that she possessed the ability to flawlessly defeat a rookie soldier with just a dagger.
Clinging to that slim possibility was Emilia's only path to survival.
This was the moment she most desperately wished her own claim—that a mere maid couldn't have defeated the Hookernanny—was ignorant nonsense.