A New Encounter (3)
More than two weeks had already passed since I came to this other world.
A lot had happened, but I was holding on and adapting well enough. The girl who originally owned this body probably never would have lasted.
“Hoo…”
Beads of sweat rolled down like pearls and soaked into the wooden floorboards.
“Ninety-nine… one hundred! Hah…”
Inside the small training room attached to the swordsmanship department building, I was deep into push-ups.
The semester had already started, but I had zero interest in literature classes, so I came here every day to train. Luckily, second-years could still choose the courses they actually wanted. May might have loved literature, but I wanted to learn swordsmanship and magic.
“If you’re going to end up in another world, it’s got to be swords and magic, right…”
I muttered to myself and pulled out a towel to wipe away the sweat. The thin shirt I was wearing was already soaked through, clinging so tightly that the smooth skin underneath showed clearly.
I want to wipe under the shirt too… is anyone around?
I checked my surroundings, confirmed I was alone, and started undoing the buttons.
Click. Click.
Only the soft sound of buttons filled the quiet training room.
Have I put on a little muscle?
Thanks to training every single day, my body had firmed up.
Actually, it feels like my waist got even smaller.
All the running and push-ups had finally given me a bit of stamina. I tossed the sweat-soaked shirt aside and ran the towel over my chest, back, and underarms. A faint body scent rose from the towel—something sweet, almost like honey.
I’d heard women sweat too, so why did May’s body always smell this good?
Her pure white skin glowed softly in the dim light. The body I had trained every day was taut and well-managed, glittering like scattered jewel dust every time the candle flames on the stands flickered.
I rose onto my tiptoes and peeled off my shorts. From slender calves up through healthy thighs to a plump, springy rear. Above that sat a waistline so perfect it looked sculpted by a god. Follow the elegant curve upward and a pair of massive peaks stole the eye completely.
“Hoo… getting cold now.”
The chilly air of a still-cool spring evening leaked into the training room. Even after wiping the sweat, the remaining moisture evaporated and left me covered in goosebumps.
Thud!
Someone stepped on the wooden floor.
“What was that?”
Focused on training, I flinched hard at the sudden presence. Startled eyes snapped toward my back.
From the moment I entered this morning, I had rarely sensed anyone else. This was a forgotten corner even swordsmanship students almost never visited. At best, Professor Anton dropped by occasionally to give me pointers—that was the only time I ever felt another presence.
What made me even more panicked was how close the footsteps sounded. Fearing some unknown thug, I froze for a second and instantly regretted leaving my dagger behind. I had no choice but to snatch up a wooden practice sword.
Those worries turned out to be groundless almost immediately.
The person who had crept across the floorboards toward me was, no matter how you looked at it, neither a thug nor a pervert.
“Ah… I’m sorry. The professor told me to come here…”
Standing there was an academy boy who was less “chubby” and more outright fat. His eyes darted around in pure panic, unsure where to look.
“Hmm…”
His face was puffed up like a steamed bun, so he wasn’t much to look at, but the way the fat filled him out somehow reminded me of myself before I came to this world. That made him oddly interesting.
I gave him a small smile and slowly picked up the shirt I had discarded, starting to put it back on.
Crane Brunner.
That was the name of this plump first-year in the swordsmanship department.
The Brunner family he belonged to was quite wealthy and powerful even within the kingdom. The problem was a severe lack of heirs to continue the line. Crane was the tenth-generation sole descendant of this precious family.
He had actually had two older brothers. One died after falling from a horse; the other died when a wound from a sparring accident festered. His parents began raising their last remaining son under extreme overprotection and never let him leave the house. Having already lost two successors to riding and swordsmanship, they forbade Crane from anything remotely dangerous.
In the end he grew into a fat young man who lacked even the basic refinement expected of a noble. Fortunately he loved books and studied well enough to scrape into the academy. Crane had applied for the literature department but ended up enrolled in swordsmanship. Of course, the switch happened because of his parents’ invisible influence—the Brunner heir graduating from the academy’s swordsmanship department was tradition.
Sadly, the first thing waiting for him after leaving his parents’ nest was quiet ostracism from his classmates. No one was going to accept a book-loving student who couldn’t swing a sword at all as a peer.
Unable to watch him drift any longer, Professor Anton decided to instruct him together with May, who was also a complete beginner in swordsmanship. That was why Anton had ordered Crane to find May in the training room and learn the basic stances from her—only for him to walk in right as she was undressing.
“You’re a first-year?”
She was a beautiful woman.
Lustrous silver hair that shone like moonlight. Cut into a slightly puffy bob, that hair only amplified her feminine beauty. Blue eyes that reminded him of gemstones, flawless clear skin, and a sweet scent rising faintly from her bare body.
Crane thought she couldn’t possibly be human. Maybe a pretty doll crafted with painstaking care by a master artisan, but not a real person.
Still half-naked, she slowly pulled her clothes back on and offered a small smile to the boy who was half out of his mind.
“Ah… yes. I’m Crane Brunner, first-year swordsmanship. Professor Anton sent me to learn the basic stances.”
“I’m May Blair, first-year literature. We’re the same age, so you can speak casually. All right—watch carefully and copy me.”
“O-okay…”
Having seen May’s naked body in all its glory, he started getting hard completely naturally. He knew it would be a disaster if he wasn’t careful, yet his cock still rose.
At first he couldn’t find anywhere safe to look, but May’s completely unbothered attitude made it impossible to tear his eyes away. At the end of his gaze sat a pair of soft, massively swollen white breasts. Even through the shirt she had just put on, the stiff peaks at their tips flaunted their presence.
A little giggle reached his ears then. Even without a mirror he could guess how stupid his expression must look. But a boy who had never even held a girl’s hand before simply lost his mind.
May toyed with the half-dazed Crane standing in front of her. Her swaying hips enchanted him mercilessly. What man could possibly keep his head in a situation like this?
“Crane?”
“Huh—!”
May waved a hand in front of his face to snap him back. Crane started gasping like someone who had just woken from a faint. He hadn’t even realized he had been holding his breath the entire time.
“Pull yourself together. We’ve got training to do.”
Showing white teeth in a smile, May reached out and gently stroked his cheek.
For the first time, Crane thought:
I’m so glad I came to the academy.
I’m so glad I was born.
Maybe I’ve actually been alive all this time just to meet May today?
Feeling that soft hand on his cheek made him burn with embarrassment. Probably because he had zero immunity to women.
“All right, let’s start. Five basic stances—begin!”
May picked up a wooden sword and confidently took the fundamental attack and defense positions. Crane, jolted back to reality by her commands, frantically grabbed his own wooden sword and tried to copy her.
“No. Stance one isn’t like that… open your arms a little more…”
Frustrated by his flailing movements, May stepped behind him, took hold of his arms, and began correcting the exact form.
That was when their breaths met at close range. May’s breath came right after swinging a sword, yet it still carried that sweet fragrance. How could only good scents ever come from her?
It was a mystery, but Crane deliberately kept the question to himself. The moment the distance between them shrank, he simply flushed and squirmed.
“Hey, if you move like that the stance falls apart. What are you doing?”
Thwack—May’s hand lightly smacked his back.
“Do it properly.”
Her voice, suddenly cold and flat, made him snap to attention. But every time May’s hands touched him his cock swelled further, making it almost impossible to hold a correct stance.
May herself was still a beginner, yet she had practiced those five stances with everything she had every single day, so her form already rivaled the upperclassmen.
This kid really has zero talent.
No matter how carefully she corrected his posture or offered advice, it was useless. Nothing changed.
She had only just started, but she already considered herself a proper swordswoman. She believed she could gauge an opponent’s skill. That was why she felt even more bewildered.
At last she had met a student with less talent and clumsier swordsmanship than herself. And not someone from literature or another department—a swordsmanship student at this level…
But that shouldn’t be possible. A swordsmanship student who had passed the brutal practical exams shouldn’t look like someone who had never held a sword in his life.
“Crane. Let’s stop. There’s no point continuing. You’re a complete zero.”
May’s cold voice echoed through the empty training room.