Bullying the Pathetic Lanky Scrub (4)
Haha. Gramps, you are way too busted.
Watching him fight kept conjuring up cutscenes from the game in my head.
Those scenes were rendered with the quality of a full-blown film, yet they were utterly impossible to replicate through any in-game system. Yeah, one of those cutscenes.
Catching up to that is genuinely beyond imagining. To reach the End of the World, I'd have to become an even bigger monster than that gramps over there — but could I actually pull that off?
How much blood, sweat, and tears would it take to surpass that?
I know, because I'm the one sprinting toward that summit even now. It's far. Too far. Far enough to look like a faint speck on the horizon.
Haaah. Guess I'll have to live even harder than I do now. Otherwise, I'll never even get within arm's reach of the old man.
"Lady Arln."
I was still gaping at gramps in open admiration when Phoebe's voice drifted in from beside me.
She, too, couldn't tear her eyes away from the miracle unfolding before us, visibly stunned by it.
"That man is..."
'That's Lord Ruel...'
"Scrub gramps. The spirit living in my mace, and my mentor."
Ever since I fell into this world, only two people truly deserved to be called my teacher.
One was Forsell — the man who'd gleefully drilled me into the ground alongside the Aln family knights, right up until the very moment I enrolled at the Academy.
Thanks to him, physical limits that would crush anyone else don't so much as make me blink anymore.
The other was none other than Grandpa Ruel.
After I broke through the Trial and faced him, Ruel gramps began teaching me what it actually means to fight as a wielder of mace and shield.
He nagged me every single time I moved my body, so I used to think he was a hopeless nitpicker — but watching him swing that mace now, I finally understand how he felt.
From his side of things, it must have been like, How can this child fail at something this simple?
Look at him even now. He's hammering Nakrad with his mace while sneaking glances my way, as if to say, Watch and learn.
Gramps, I get the hint, but honestly? I still can't even dream of copying what you're doing.
In school terms, I'm a little brat who just barely mastered the multiplication table.
Show a kid like that a college entrance exam problem and tell her to learn from it, and all she can do is stand there in awe. That's it. That's the whole repertoire.
I'll try to imitate you, sure, but don't get your hopes up. Got it? And no whining later about why I couldn't pull it off.
Unable to stomach the beating any longer, Nakrad staggered back to his feet and pulled his minions out from the shadows.
Whoa. That's basically one of his trump cards.
With the Evil God of Darkness still far from a proper resurrection, each of those minions takes a substantial amount of time to create even a single one.
Weren't those supposed to be saved for when he invades the Academy during finals? And he's pulling them out now? He must have been genuinely scared of gramps.
But here's the problem. That thing... doesn't look like it'll be the slightest threat to gramps at all.
Surrounded by the horde closing in around him, gramps didn't panic even a little.
He simply wore a calm, indifferent expression. Then, when he lifted his mace overhead, divinity began gathering at its head.
Insane. Why is the density of divinity pooling up there so absurd? That's basically a miniature sun already.
Gramps. Is that really the summit I'll reach someday? Just how far do you think I'm going to grow?
Fine. You got it. I'll live up to that expectation. I'm Soul Academy's hardcore rotten-water veteran, after all. I will amaze you.
One day I'll look down at you, gramps, and call you a scrub, so look forward to it.
And when that day comes, don't go crying about how disrespectful I am. That monster will be entirely your own creation, after all.
The moment the divinity gathered upon his mace flared with light, the horrors spawned from the darkness began retreating one by one.
Even beings born from the power of an evil god are helpless before that radiance.
Once every last minion Nakrad had summoned had vanished without a trace, gramps dismissed the divinity he'd raised and stepped toward Nakrad himself.
"That gentleman is Lady Arln's teacher?"
Phoebe was gazing at him with pure reverence in her eyes.
Unlike me, who couldn't care less about the Chief God, she was a devout and earnest believer.
Watching a miracle performed by a man who was both the holy knight who once saved the world and a canonized saint — of course her mind must be reeling.
"So that's why you're so strong, my lady. It makes sense now."
'Something like that, yes.'
"What's that supposed to mean, scrub saintess? I'm strong because I'm amazing, not because this pathetic gramps taught me well. Quit spouting dumb nonsense."
Um, excuse me, Mesugaki Skill? Why are you making me grumble this hard? Now Phoebe's got that deer-in-headlights look because she has no idea what to say.
And why are you making me use casual speech with Phoebe again? It's not like the Mesugaki Skill got an upgrade this time.
What gives? What is it? Somebody tell me, so I can at least decide whether to deal with it or not. Please.
BOOM! A miniature earthquake rippled outward as gramps brought his mace crashing down on Nakrad.
The ground split apart, fragments scattering into the air alongside clouds of dust — and at the very center of it all, gramps's expression was anything but pleased.
Because Nakrad, who had been standing there only moments before, had vanished without a trace. He got away, huh.
Gramps clicked his tongue lightly, swept aside the lingering smoke with a casual swing of his mace, and walked back toward us.
"My apologies, child. I could not finish the job. This place is, after all, a mental world — it has its limits."
Well, nothing to be done about that. My whole reason for coming here was to save Phoebe; tormenting Nakrad was just a bonus objective.
A tiny bit of a shame, but whatever. I still dealt him plenty of damage, didn't I? So I was about to smile and tell him not to worry about it — but tragically, a wall stood in my path. A wall called the Mesugaki Skill.
'It's all right, Grandfather.'
"Pathetic gramps, through and through. You can't even manage one little thing? Well, I suppose it's my fault for expecting anything from a lonely old man stuffed inside a mace. A hopeless has-been gramps, I said what I said."
"I am going quite mad. How on earth do the other children endure this manner of speech?"
Gramps, don't give me that reaction over something this small.
Joy and Arthur have to listen to this mouth all day long, you know. You, a canonized saint of all people, can't just laugh this off?
Still, considering the miracle you just pulled off, I'll bow my head and behave this once. Gramps.
'I'm sorry. Please bear with it.'
"Eee? You can't even endure this much, has-been gramps? Puhut. Unbelievable. This guy is a saint? Scrub. Scrub."
Oh. Right. Apologizing just makes the distortion worse, doesn't it.
At the taunts pouring out through the Mesugaki Skill, gramps let out a long sigh while Phoebe looked on in open horror.
Yeah, I get it. From her perspective, watching someone hurl abuse at a person she's supposed to treat with utmost respect and reverence, that face was inevitable.
Phoebe only stayed silent because she's sweet-natured. Anyone with a quicker temper would have been all over me about disrespect by now.
"Um. Lord Ruel?"
Just as I was deciding I should keep my mouth shut for a while, Phoebe spoke up cautiously.
Gramps tilted his head toward her, one eyebrow raised, and offered a gentle smile.
"What is it, child?"
"Is it... always like this?"
No! Phoebe! Don't misunderstand! I really am relatively polite to gramps! I use formal speech with him constantly, every single time!
Sure, I occasionally do rude things to the old man, but that's always because gramps screws up first! I'm good to him! Really!
As I was spinning those excuses in my head, a brilliant idea suddenly struck me.
...Wait. Isn't this my chance? A chance to prove that my mesugaki speech isn't my fault!
Think about it. If a girl who normally goes around calling people scrubs and trash and idiots suddenly claimed, Oh, my speech pattern is all the Chief God's doing — wouldn't your first reaction be, what kind of garbage excuse is that?
People who have no idea just how much of a pervert the Chief God is would never believe the Lord would force such language on anyone. They'd assume I was trying to dress up a lie as justification.
But if gramps says it? That's a whole different level of credibility!
If the holy knight, the hero who saved the world, the canonized saint himself vouched for my innocence, no one on this continent could possibly doubt it!
And especially for Phoebe, who just witnessed his miracle with her own eyes, the persuasive power would be doubled!
Gramps! Please! Hurry up and prove my innocence to Phoebe!
Then Phoebe can use her saintess title to convince everyone else!
If things go that smoothly, my ruined reputation gets fixed and my school life is saved!
I conveyed my plea with my eyes alone, and gramps gave a small nod.
This is a man with razor-sharp instincts. There was no way he'd miss what I meant.
Haaa. Finally, I get to properly enjoy school lif—
"Always..."
...Huh? Gramps, why can't you finish your sentence?
You, the man whose tongue never trips, can't wrap up one simple statement?
You're messing with me, right? Right?
PLEASE tell me you're messing with me!
Gramps!
PLEASE!
"That... she is, whatever her manner of speech, a child with a heart as gentle as spring. That much is true."
"Yes, that much is true. Lady Arln is a wonderful person."
GYAAAAAAAH?!
GRAMPS! "Whatever her manner of speech"?! That was NOT the agreed-upon script!
Why on earth would you talk about my sweet disposition at the exact moment you were supposed to explain my speech pattern?!
The instant I tried to pounce on him and demand a proper explanation, my consciousness suddenly flickered out.
As my awareness faded and I came to, the view of the church — the same one I'd seen before entering Phoebe's mental world — swam into focus before my eyes.
So I got kicked out of Phoebe's mental world, huh.
"Did everything go well?"
I glanced up at the voice from above my head and found the Face-Con Fox's face peering down at me.
Why is it that this creature loves clinging to my head but violently objects whenever I try to touch her? I genuinely cannot comprehend it.
'Yeees.'
"Can't you tell just by looking, face-obsessed fox?"
"Well then, that's all good and well."
The fox gave a snickering giggle and bolted from atop my head, darting somewhere well beyond the reach of my hands.
Damn scrubby fox. In my heart of hearts I want to chase her down and ruffle that fur into a hurricane, but right now there's something more urgent.
'Grandfather.'
Because I demand an explanation.
Answer me, gramps. Why did you do that?
Why did you throw away the one chance to clear up the misunderstanding everyone has about me?!
That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that will never come again! NEEEEVER!
<Forgive me, child. I meant to explain your manner of speech, but my mouth would not open.>
'What on earth does that mean?'
<How shall I put it — it felt as though some restraining force was at work. I could not speak a single word concerning your blessing, so I was forced to say something safe enough to get by instead.>
At gramps's explanation that even his comment about my gentle heart had been a hard-won improvisation, my brow furrowed on its own.
If someone placed a restriction on explaining my skill, there's only one culprit it could possibly be.
YOU PATHETIC, SADISTIC, PEDO, MASOCHIST PERVERT TRASH OF A CHIEF GOOOOODDD!
Do you get off on ruining me this badly?! Is this the minimum required dosage for your satisfaction?!
Can't I just live a LITTLE comfortably?! Huh?!
Do I really have to go around calling people scrubs and getting glared at by everyone I meet, every single day?!
What, did the affection stacks I've been building lately make you feel lonely because nobody's cursing me out anymore?!
Fine! You got it! You sadistic freak who gets his kicks tormenting a girl!
I granted YOUR requests, so why won't you grant MINE?!
Why can't I say what I want to say?! WHY!
- Ding.
In the middle of my silent screaming, a notification chime rang out.
You have successfully saved Phoebe within the time limit!
🎁 Reward: Granted!
What is this. Aw, how thoughtful — here, take this and get lost, is that it?
Hey. Scrub trash god. My mood right now is veeeeeeeery bad.
One or two half-baked rewards are NOT going to fix it. No matter what you hand over.
...Huh?