Field Trip Preparations (1)
Rock, paper, scissors. A fitting choice for a warrior.
Just as I was glaring at Frey, brimming with certainty of my victory, Grandpa suddenly spoke up.
A fitting choice for a warrior?
What on earth is that supposed to mean?
What possible relationship is there between rock-paper-scissors and martial prowess?
Did you not know?
'Rock-paper-scissors is a game of luck.'
If we're really nitpicking, there's a psychological element to it, but in a single round, luck plays the biggest role, doesn't it?
That's exactly why I demanded we settle it in one round.
What nonsense. Rock-paper-scissors is a contest of dynamic vision and reaction speed. You watch what your opponent throws, make your judgment, and seize victory.
'...Excuse me? That's absolutely ridicu—'
I was halfway to suspecting he was mocking me when it dawned on me: this world is a fantasy world.
In a world where a skilled warrior reacting to arrows mid-flight is taken completely for granted, perhaps reacting to rock-paper-scissors is simply par for the course?
Naturally, psychology enters into it as well. Before committing to a throw, you must keep your fingers moving constantly so your opponent cannot read what you intend to play.
Come to think of it, I'm already at the level where I can track and respond to most people's movements.
Rock-paper-scissors wouldn't be... any different, would it?
Huh?
Wait a moment.
If that's the case...
Among my subordinates, there was once a madman who did nothing but practice rock-paper-scissors all day long. Whenever the knight orders needed to negotiate something, they would send him, and he'd always bring back the win.
Rock-paper-scissors is a SKILL GAME?! Are you kidding me?!
Oh no.
This is bad.
I have never once tried to win rock-paper-scissors through skill.
To put it simply: in this particular industry, I'm a total newbie.
Which naturally means I know nothing about the various techniques that exist within rock-paper-scissors.
In a luck-based game it might not matter, but in a skill game, the gap between knowing these techniques and not knowing them is enormous.
Why else would humans in this world be able to stand against monsters?
It's only possible because they don't know what we know.
It's the same right now.
I don't know rock-paper-scissors, and Frey does.
Given how readily she nodded along, she's clearly well-versed in it.
Why did my opponent have to be Frey of all people?!
If it had been a backline like Joy or Phoebe, I could have simply overpowered her with raw stats, but against Frey that won't work!
Even now, this girl outstrips me in pure reflexes!
Damn it all!
I've been played!
The one who got baited into this was me!
What do I do now?
There's no taking it back at this point.
I was the one who proposed it — whining that I didn't want to play anymore would be unbearably pathetic!
"Shall we?"
I chewed on my lip under Frey's gaze as she looked down at me from her slight advantage in height.
No.
Nothing's been decided yet. I haven't lost.
Yes, Frey's reflexes are marginally superior, but honestly, we're about even.
Our stats are on equal footing.
Same with technique.
Would this sword-obsessed maniac actually know rock-paper-scissors techniques?
Which means if every condition is equal, what it all comes down to is luck!
Pure, blind luck!
'Alright, let's do it!'
"Fine. Get ready to lose, weakling swordsman."
"Okay."
"Allow me to give the signal, then."
Had the two of us been listening in on our little contest? Karl smoothly inserted himself into the middle as referee.
"Begin. Rock."
Now. Frey.
What are you going to throw?
Her fist is clenched, so it's hard to tell yet.
"Paper."
I saw her hand drop downward.
It's opening up.
Rock or scissors, then.
Good. In that case, I'll throw scissors.
Worst case, it's a draw.
With any luck, I might even win.
"Scissors."
The instant I made my decision and extended my hand, Frey's fingers balled back into a fist.
What the—?! I thought you said paper?!
She was playing mind games with me?!
She faked the open hand because she knew I'd react to what I saw?
Frey. You sword-crazed lunatic — since when do you know cheap tricks like that?!
Too late, I realized I'd been duped, but retracting my hand was no longer an option.
There sat her fist, right in front of my outstretched index and middle fingers.
"I win."
I lost.
Do you have any idea how much proficiency that one orb could have given me?!
That single thing could have shaved a whole month of suffering off my future, and I lost it!
And worse, this defeat is 100% my own fault, which makes it even more infuriating.
I can't even blame anyone else!
I want to redirect this rage somewhere, anywhere — but the only one to blame is me!
Hnngh.
Hnnnnghhh.
Calm down. It's fine.
Losing that orb won't stop me from getting stronger.
I'll take a small hit to my proficiency. Okay, a fairly large hit. But that's a problem I can overcome with hard work.
Yeah. That's it. I'll just consider it a gift for Frey.
She's someone I'll be using as a party member for a long time, after all.
Frey getting stronger benefits me too.
Right. Yes.
Let's go with that.
"Lucy. You want this?"
What is this? Are you teabagging me right now, Frey?
If that's your intention, I'll kindly inform you that you picked the wrong opponent.
I am a remarkably petty human being.
I write down every single one of these moments in my book of grudges, and I repay them in full, later.
"I could give it to you."
Really?
...No. Calm down.
There's no way she'd actually hand it over.
She's obviously just toying with me.
She's been itching for any excuse to provoke me ever since the "weakling swordsman" thing started getting under her skin.
This is probably more of the same.
Getting my hopes up would only end in betrayal.
And yet...
There's always a chance, isn't there?
'What do I have to do?'
"Weakling swordsman. What do you want?"
"Two things. First, you bow your head to me yourself."
Ahaha. So the plan is to bend my perpetually upright spine, just once?
If trading away a scrap of pride gets me the proficiency orb, that's a bargain.
It's not like pride exists within me to begin with.
If she hands over that orb, I'd get down on my knees and lick her shoes!
Ah, wait, that might be going a bit too far.
Anyway — I have zero qualms about bowing my head.
The problem is the Mesugaki skill.
Can I actually force something on this girl whose head stays stubbornly, rigidly high no matter what?
Worth a try. If I grovel hard enough, maybe it'll work?
'O great and historic Frey Kent, the swordsman destined to claim the seat of Sword Saint — grant this humble servant the right to receive the orb you so graciously bestow.'
"Give it here, weakling swordsman. I'll put it to far better use than a dimwitted fool like you ever could."
Wow. I stacked on all those flowery words in my head — where exactly did they all vanish to?
And why is my head still standing bolt upright when I'm supposedly the one bowing?
Are YOU the one in the superior position here?
You're not, you insane woman!
I knew this was how it would go, but watching it become reality is still irritating beyond words.
The one silver lining is that Frey doesn't look particularly offended.
"Good. Then, second."
...
That satisfied you?! One little head-bob?!
Frey, what exactly do you think of me on a normal day, that you'd count this as me bowing my head?
Just how far beneath human does the Lucy Aln living inside your head rank?!
I'm grateful you're letting it slide, but the feeling is... complicated.
"Keep sparring with me even after the dungeon clears are over."
I stared blankly at Frey, blindsided by the completely unexpected condition.
Hm?
'Wasn't I going to do that anyway?'
"Weakling swordsman, what kind of nonsense is that? Of course you were. Idiot."
"Oh. So we keep going?"
"Yes. Ha. You really are a hopeless idiot."
"I see."
Frey nodded to herself, then held out the orb in her hand to me.
Wait. You were actually planning to give it to me?
Watching Frey tilt her head, orb still extended, a laugh slipped out of me.
Ah. Damn it. Never thought I'd live to see the day I found this sword-crazed maniac cute.
'I'll put it to good use, thank you.'
"Make sure you do, weakling swordsman."
"Yeah. We spar again, right?"
You don't even need to ask — obviously I'll keep sparring with you.
Do you have any idea how rare it is to find someone at this academy who can go toe-to-toe with me in close combat?
So relax.
I'll keep playing with you until the day the word "weakling" disappears from in front of your name.
*
Several days had passed since we finished clearing the dungeon.
No first-year class in Soul Academy's history had ever claimed the title of First Clearers in their first semester, so when the list of First Clearers was made public the following day, all hell broke loose.
Joy came stomping over to complain about why she hadn't been taken along.
Arthur declared that I'd won this time, but next time would be his.
Vishy and Jacob dropped by to gush about how incredible it all was.
Avery approached me cautiously to offer her congratulations.
And while I was eating, Luka materialized out of nowhere to declare that I truly was a talent he'd had his eye on, ruining my meal entirely.
Benedict even got in contact.
'This father is so very happy to have such a brilliant daughter. I always believed in you! When you were just a little girl...'
I have no idea where he heard the news, but he called through the crystal orb right before I was about to go to bed and spent nearly an hour rambling through old stories.
If I hadn't hung up midway, I'd have been listening to his doting drivel until dawn.
Thanks to this monumental achievement, my reputation improved considerably as well.
According to Avery — who keeps her ear to the ground and stays on good terms with the other noble girls — whatever else people thought of me, everyone acknowledged my skill.
In other words, I'd gone from a bitch with no skill and no manners to a bitch with skill but no manners.
What, aren't they both still bitches?
Well, yes, obviously. But the latter is still better, isn't it?
A competent bitch can spew whatever nonsense she likes and people will grit their teeth and bear it — but an incompetent bitch running her mouth is simply unbearable.
I was mulling all this over when the classroom door swung open and the professor appeared.
He took his place at the podium, swept his gaze over the students, and spoke in a quiet voice.
"As you all know, the field trip begins one week from today."
So the moment had finally arrived.
Even as I listened to the professor, I felt not a shred of worry.
Every preparation for the field trip was already complete.
Party members: me, Frey, Joy, and Phoebe.
The inventory was stuffed to bursting with everything the trip would require.
I'd even prepared a bribe to win over the Lord of the Forest we were supposed to meet out there.
In short: all that remained was to show up.
Perfect. This field trip, I'm pushing Phoebe's affection all the way to 70!
Clearing the Academy dungeon burned through a lot of that affection, but it's fine.
I'll make it back.
We'll be living in each other's pockets for the entire trip, so I just need to keep showing her how capable I am.
I can do this.
I've grinded saintess routes until I was sick of them, haven't I?
"The location will be Saithil Forest, to the south of Soul Academy. Several of the professors are heading out ahead of time to..."
...I'm sorry. Saithil Forest?
What are you talking about, Professor?
The forest first-years visit in their first semester is Siluf Forest.
The place where a wolf that has reigned as Lord of the Forest for centuries awaits.
Saithil Forest is the second-semester destination for first-years!
Could there have been some mistake?
Shaken by this divergence from the game, I raised my hand to ask — but the professor simply shook his head.
"No, Lady Aln. Saithil Forest is correct."
Huh?
No.
Hold on.
I'm screwed.
I am seriously, genuinely screwed.
The difficulty of the field trip itself doesn't matter — the professors will adjust that as they see fit.
Different supplies needed? Also not a problem. I can just put Alsaetin to work.
There is exactly one problem.
Right now, thanks to that damned weakling Chief God's quest, I have to meet the Lord of the Forest — and if the field trip location has become Saithil Forest, I might not be able to meet the Lord of the Forest at all.
Shit. What do I do?
What am I supposed to do?
I do NOT want to eat a penalty!
I do not want to find out what "humiliating something" means!