Midterms (8)
“...If you hadn't saved me, I swear I wouldn't have let this slide.”
The moment Adri said that, the words And what exactly would you do about it? rose unbidden to my lips — but I swallowed them down.
What if I provoked the very person offering to help me and got smacked upside the head for it?
Okay, fine, I'd already provoked her a little, but she said she'd let it slide, so I'd better choose my words carefully.
...
Somehow, I had a creeping sense that the skill was eroding me more and more.
At this rate, even after the skill's gone, am I just going to catch myself calling people pathetic on pure reflex?
“Damn brat. You take the one at the front. I'll handle the rest.”
‘Understood.’
“Got it, lonely old hag.”
Is she talking about that knight — the one who told me to step aside for him earlier?
Ah, so you dumped the burden on her, did you?
‘Really?’
That one is the leader of these knights. She's telling you to pin down their commander. Do you catch my meaning?
I do, Grandpa. No matter how skilled a group of knights might be, without someone anchoring them at the center, their coordination falls apart. And for specters that have lost most of their reason, that matters all the more.
So what Adri was really saying was: while I kept the strongest, most troublesome leader occupied, she would clean up the rabble.
Wandering the nine hells for so long must have made her one sly old fox.
Striking a pose like she'd handle everything herself, then palming off the heaviest job on me. Honestly.
Still, I'll take it.
Without Adri, I would've had to face every last one of those things alone.
I raised my shield and eyed the specter knights.
Their gazes weren't fixed on me — they were locked onto Adri.
Part of it was the knights' hatred of specters, but more than that, they'd judged Adri to be the greater threat.
Well, obviously.
Between a specter capable of serving as a dungeon boss and a tiny little girl holding a shield — which one would you be scared of?
An ordinary tank couldn't pull aggro here.
Compared to Adri, my presence weighed next to nothing.
But I'm not an ordinary tank.
I'm a tank with a taunt skill so obscene it breaks the game.
“Knights of a pathetic Chief God, dancing on the strings of a petty Evil God~ What a bunch of garbage♡”
The instant the words left my mouth, every one of their gazes snapped to me.
“Doesn't it embarrass you, striking all those poses?♡ If I were you, I'd have killed myself out of shame ages ago♡”
- We accepted disgrace. We are specters who exist in this world by the will of the divine, and—
“Oh, you mean the pathetic Chief God?♡ Really?♡”
- You dare defile the Chief God's name?!
So even while dancing on Agra's strings, they hadn't forgotten Armadi's name.
Truly pathetic. Pitiful, even.
The way they flew into a rage proved they genuinely believed they were doing the right thing.
“Hey♡ hey♡ did you know?♡ The pathetic Chief God doesn't actually hate specters?♡”
- What nonsense is this?
- How could the likes of you know such a thing?!
“Because I'm the pathetic Chief God's Apostle♡, you bottom-feeding knights♡”
The pathetic Chief God you all worship so devotedly? He pushed me out the door when I hesitated to save Adri. If He'd truly hated specters, none of that would have happened. Am I wrong?
- Where do you get off trying to deceive us?!
“Wow, you're reeeally stupid♡ No wonder the Evil God plays you like a fiddle♡ Pathetic brains♡ Heretics who've never even heard their god's voice♡ What if you purge yourselves the moment you look at a cross?♡”
- SILENCE!
Swept away by emotion, the knights' commander at the front came charging at me — and at the same instant, the various objects whirling through the air around us turned to target the knights behind him.
Normally, the commander would have been the one issuing countermeasures, but right now he had no room for any of that.
Because the only thing reflected in his eyes was my face.
I caught his two-handed overhead strike squarely on my shield.
Strong. Genuinely strong.
The hands gripping my shield were trembling.
But I could hold.
I'd been through this a thousand times before.
“You call yourself a knight commander?♡ An orc throwing punches would hit waaay harder than you♡ Don't you think?♡”
Facing blades was old, familiar territory for me.
When I first picked up a shield, the partner who trained me was a sword. And lately, the one sparring with me at every spare moment has been Frey.
Both of them towering talents in the domain of swordsmanship.
When you hold a shield against people like them long enough, the comparison happens on its own the moment you meet a middling swordsman.
Frey would have pressed me far harder by now.
If it were Carl, he would have noticed the opening on my right was one I'd left open on purpose and attacked somewhere else entirely.
Either of them would never have given me the time to swing my mace.
Put simply —
The knights' commander's swordsmanship fell short of both of them.
Judging raw physical specs alone, he was leagues above Frey, and might even rival Carl.
But his technique with the blade was so lacking that none of it posed any real threat.
“This is a knight commander?♡ Just how pathetic was the old Main God Church?♡”
- Shut your mouth!
“Apologize to the subordinates who trusted and followed a pathetic piece of trash like you♡ Apologize to the Church that made bottom-feeders like you into knights♡”
- I told you to be silent!
“Angry?♡ So what are you gonna do about it?♡ You can't even put a single scratch on my shield, you bottom-feeder♡”
This commander had shabbier fundamentals than Frey from the very start.
So what happens when a man like that, gripped by emotion, starts swinging his sword wildly?
Obviously, the swordsmanship itself falls to pieces.
Right now, he wasn't a knight at all.
What kind of knight charges in with zero technique, trusting nothing but the strength of his own body?
He was a monster.
A bottom-tier monster with no intellect and, on top of that, merely passable physical abilities.
I shoved aside his descending blade with my shield and swung the mace.
CRUNCH!
No matter how sturdy his armor.
No matter how hardy his flesh.
So long as he was a specter, he could not stand unharmed before a mace carrying Armadi's divinity.
The knight had no choice but to clutch his stricken side and stagger backward.
“Puhuh♡ Getting hit by divinity hurts, doesn't it?♡ Pathetic specter♡ Trash even hell won't take back♡”
- You damned girl—!...
Laughing, I glanced behind me and saw the knights crumbling one by one under Adri's magic.
This was how it was supposed to go.
Adri, who wielded the manor itself as her weapon, was never someone you could beat through sheer numbers.
We'd struggled earlier because our opponents were a bad matchup — but these knights were just idiots who outnumbered her without knowing any of her patterns.
If the knight commander had still been directing them, they might have coordinated and put up a fight. But right now, His Excellency the Commander was glaring at me with eyes burning like coals.
Could a leaderless rabble possibly resist an opponent stronger than themselves?
Judging by the smile Adri wore as she toyed with the knights, her side would take care of itself without me worrying about it.
So my job was to smash the dear commander before she finished.
I could probably get by just holding out until every one of those knights fell — but then I had a feeling Adri would have a word or two for me.
I drew a breath and recited a prayer in my heart.
Any number of holy spells to raise the body's capabilities.
Armadi's divinity wrapped around me.
You intend to fell him, then?
‘That's the plan.’
Fight it however suits you. You've more than enough to win.
I know, Grandpa. You don't have to tell me.
Even as I answered him in my head, somehow a smile crept across my face.
I looked at the commander charging at me again.
I looked at his sword.
Monotonous. Honest.
No schemes in it at all.
Just a blade flung about wildly, carried away by raw emotion.
Deflecting it looked almost insultingly easy.
The instant I extended my shield, the Iron Wall spoke to me.
The method the skill prescribed matched, perfectly, what I had already decided to do a breath before.
With full conviction, I moved my shield.
Shield met sword, and the clumsily swung blade bounced away again.
The sword arced high overhead, baring an opening.
Aiming for it, I drove the mace once more into the flank I'd hammered moments ago, and the commander staggered back.
Now then. Shall we run a durability test on His Excellency the Knight Commander?
A blow to the shoulder to knock the sword from his hand.
A blow to the face to steal his sight.
Then a kick straight into the belly of the commander desperately struggling to keep his footing, toppling him over —
And settling my weight on top of him, I brought the mace down on his head.
Again.
And again.
Until his shape was gone entirely.
When it was over — his body collapsed into ash and scattered — I lifted my head and looked around. The other knights had already fallen to Adri's hands.
“Hey. You insufferable brat. That was disgustingly brutal.”
Was it?
I can't actually watch myself fight, so I wouldn't know.
“No wonder no man's ever going to like you.”
‘Worry about yourself, Grandpa.’
“An old spinster hag who's never once held a man's hand is worried about me? How~ utterly touching.”
“Hey! You—!”
Apparently the words spinster hag prodded something deep inside her, because I brushed past the hopping-mad Adri and headed for the dungeon's exit.
So the reward for clearing this dungeon was the sword the Death Knight Commander had wielded.
The performance was honestly decent, but it meant absolutely nothing to me.
I mean, I'm planning to keep using Grandpa until the day comes when I never need to hold a weapon again.
With a near-final-grade weapon in hand, what reason would I ever have to pick up anything else?
Sell it off through the Newmann family, or maybe gift it to Carl or Frey.
Hmm. Frey's getting a dedicated weapon eventually anyway, so no point — I'll dump this one on Carl.
Sword in hand, I stepped outside with Adri — and there was Vishy, dozing against the manor wall.
I could have woken her myself, but where's the style in that?
I said nothing and just looked at Adri. Catching my meaning, she stiffened her lips.
Adri hesitated for a moment, then carefully stepped up beside Vishy.
- Wake up, Vishy.
Vishy's eyes drifted open sluggishly at the ghost's voice — and the moment she saw Adri's smiling face, she pulled her into a tight hug.
“Adri! You're back!”
- Yes. It's thanks to that lady over there.
“That lady? Ah! Lady Arln! Thank you so much! Truly, thank you! I will never — never — say another bad word about you again!”
So what you're saying is, you used to talk trash about me?
So you contributed your fair share to ruining my reputation, huh?
That's a bit much, don't you think?
But I can hardly say anything to a girl crying tears and snot everywhere, so I'll let it slide. For now.
As Vishy gushed thank-yous over and over, I glanced at Adri and saw the corners of her mouth twitching violently.
Running your mouth like your usual self on the inside, then putting on an act the moment Vishy shows up — that's exhausting, isn't it? Hmm?
Don't worry. I'll keep your secret.
Watching how long you can keep up the character act sounds like its own kind of fun, anyway.
Smiling slyly at her with that thought, I paused — because outside the manor, the sky was unnaturally bright.
‘Vishy.’
“Yes, Lady Attendant.”
“Yes!”
‘What time...’
“What time is it?”
“It's... 8:47!”
Young one. Didn't I tell you your first exam today starts at nine?
Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.
I'm screwed.
Tearful reunions can wait — this is no time for any of it.
If I'm late to the exam, they'll mark it down as another absence!
There's a quest from the pathetic Chief God riding on this exam!
‘I'm heading out first!’
“Pathetic losers! Later, suckers?!”
“Wha—?!”
- Lady Arln?!
Vaulting through the broken second-floor window and out of the manor, I sprinted desperately toward the exam hall.
Getting disqualified for tardiness is the one thing I cannot let happen!