The Mesugaki Cannot Rest (1)

"You're truly fine with receiving nothing in return?"

Grandpa spoke up as I made my way out of the cathedral without so much as a backward glance.

Clearly, my earlier response to the Bishop was still bothering him—when he'd offered me a token of gratitude, I'd told him:

Why would I accept a gift from a pathetic scrub like you? Anything you give is bound to be just as pathetic as you are. Besides, gifts from a scrub bishop probably reek of middle-aged man. Hard pass."Surely saving a girl called the Saintess warranted a most splendid reward."I'm sure it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did!

Considering both the man's standing and what I'd actually done, I could have squeezed quite a fortune out of him if I'd wanted to.

But right now, I had zero reason to chase ordinary compensation. If I ever wanted something, I could just ask Alsaetin or the Newmann family to get it. Why bother?

Better, frankly, to refuse everything and lift the moral burden off his shoulders entirely. The Academy's bishop is one of the few genuinely decent people in the Church of the Main God. Holding a debt over someone like that will absolutely pay dividends later, when Phoebe's storyline really gets going.

"No matter how I consider it, I doubt a bishop who was called a pathetic scrub thinks kindly of you."...Stop hitting me with facts, please.

He's a man of good character, so it'll be fine. Surely he just thinks I'm a good girl who's a bit rough around the edges?

"Spar me your nonsense, child. It only deserves half of what you give it."That's why I said stop hitting me with facts, Grandpa.

It's not like I know the truth and am just living in denial, okay?

Why can't anyone appreciate my desperate effort to patch up an image that's going to get ground into dust anyway?!

*Haah.* Life is so hard thanks to the Mesugaki skill. I'm actually a polite person, but because of one stupid skill I have to be a rude, insolent little brat begging to be disciplined. The injustice!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠*Ding.*

While I was venting my indignation internally, another message popped up.

What now, pathetic Chief God? Planning to retaliate for all the trash talk I just aimed at you?

Try it, why don't yo—no, wait. Don't.

It's just that when a person imagines a hopeful future and then watches it come crashing down, emotions run high, you know? That's all that was. A totally understandable human reaction.

The Mesugaki skill has put me through the wringer, so I've got a lot of bottled-up feelings. As a flawed human being, my behavior was simply beyond my control. Right? Right.

A-And you know, Phoebe told me that Lady Armadi once said what matters isn't the mistakes you made in the past, but what you do afterward?

I'll be good from now on, so could you maybe forgive me? Pretty please!

Desperate to preempt whatever torture device might be incoming, I fired off my excuses at the pathetic Chief God—but the window that appeared before me was merciless in a completely different way.

Huh? What?

Completely blindsided by content I never saw coming, I stared blankly at the window, rubbed my eyes, and looked again.

Phoebe's favorability broke 70?

Well—it wasn't like I had no idea where this came from. I had just come back from diving into Phoebe's mental world and pulling her out of danger. It would be stranger if her favorability hadn't gone up.

And there was supporting evidence, too. Back then, Joy had started using casual speech with me right around the time her favorability was about to hit 70—and this time as well, I'd started talking casually with Phoebe the moment we entered her mental world.

It's still just a hypothesis, but apparently dropping formal speech with someone you normally speak politely to has something to do with hitting that favorability threshold.

...Favorability 70, huh.

The moment I learned Phoebe considered me someone precious, a smile crept across my face all on its own.

There'd been plenty of twists and turns along the way, but in the end, I got exactly what I wanted.

That's me for you! A Hardcore Veteran of Soul Academy is built different!

Looking back now, Nakrad has been a massive help. Twice over, in fact.

The first time Joy's favorability broke 70, it was because I saved her from Nakrad—and this time, I broke 70 with Phoebe by saving her from him too.

Honestly, Nakrad, you scoundrel!

You keep whining that you don't want to meet the Apostle of Armadi, yet your actions are remarkably honest, aren't they? Manufacturing crisis after crisis that makes it so much easier to clear the quests my pathetic Chief God hands down!

Thanks to you, my party composition is now PERFECT!

Joy, covering artillery from the back line!

Phoebe, handling healing and buffs!

And me, tanking at the very front!

Heh heh. Even if some random party member got mixed into this roster, the base is so strong it wouldn't matter one bit!

Whoever joins, my party is already Tier 1!

Honestly, I'm genuinely grateful to Nakrad—but what am I supposed to do about that? Thanks to the Mesugaki skill, the words "thank you" will never leave my mouth directed at another person.

So no, I can't tell you I'm grateful.

Or... can I? If my intent is to piss the other person off, maybe gratitude works?

Hmm. Yeah, actually, that feels like it'd land. Next time I run into Nakrad, I'll tell him I'm sooo thankful for everything he's done for me. He's going to grind his teeth down to powder.

I was chuckling to myself, picturing the lanky scrub trembling with rage, when several more windows materialized before me.

I set the new quest aside for the moment—because Ruel-style Divine Hand-to-Hand Combat? Now we're talking.

The divinity-channeling martial art created by Grandpa, the hero who once saved the world. In the game, I remembered it as a passive that scaled damage proportionally to your Divinity stat.

It performed solidly, but the grind to learn it never justified the payoff, so I barely ever touched it. At most I'd pick it up when trying to push a paladin-archetype character to their stat ceiling.

Which means getting it for free is a welcome gift and then some.

One thing nags at me, though. Hand-to-hand combat is, by definition, about moving your body and fighting. In the game, that whole reality got compressed into a passive—but isn't the real thing going to be different?

"Grandpa.""What is it?"

Conveniently, the one person perfectly positioned to answer my question was right beside me—the very founder of that divine martial art.

"What exactly is Divine Hand-to-Hand Combat?""Hmm? Why do you ask so suddenly?""Lady Armadi just gave it to me as a reward.""...Is that truly so?!"

The moment I mentioned my gift from the pathetic Chief God, Grandpa's voice shot up in alarm.

The pitch was raised so high—so unlike him—that I froze for a second, but I nodded anyway.

"Yes. Otherwise, how would I ever know anything about your martial arts?""Wait. Ah. Yes. Put your divinity into your hand! Then you shall understand!"

Put divinity into my hand? A baffling request, but I obeyed—trusting that he had some reason in mind.

The instant I resolved to channel a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠portion of the divinity within my body toward my hand, information seeped into my mind.

It felt exactly like using the Iron Wall skill.

Just as Iron Wall tells me where to move my shield, something was now guiding me in how to move my divinity.

Following that guidance, I shifted the divinity into my palm—and the moment it settled there, light bloomed from my hand.

It was a warm glow, the very image of the sun Grandpa had shown when he sank his teeth into Nakrad.

"...Oh, Armadi. So that is it. That is why You sent me to this child!""Grandpa?"

Why are you suddenly reacting like some fanatic? Quit it, you're scaring me.

"Excellent! Child! Well done! Now I can pass down everything I know to you!"

There was heat in Grandpa's voice as it traveled through the mace.

Oh, I've heard this one before. This is exactly the vibe Forsell gave off when he trained me.

When he declared, on Benedict's orders, that he'd forge me into a proper knight no matter what—his voice sounded precisely like that.

Which means, if Grandpa is feeling what Forsell felt back then...

"Grandpa. Could you maybe calm down?"

Sure, training has become a habit lately, but I'd rather it not get any more brutal than it already is?

I finally have a few people I can call friends. I'd like to actually enjoy my academy life, you know?

Nakrad burned through most of his strength fighting you, so things should stay peaceful for a while—don't ruin it.

"Come! Let us return to the training grounds at once! You only left training mid-session, did you not!"

Ah. You can't hear a word I'm saying, can you.

Well, fine. Then I simply can't hear you for the time being either.

While deliberately tuning out Grandpa's passion-drenched voice—a volume that rattled my skull—I turned my attention to something else.

There was a new quest, wasn't there?

Ah, this one was in the game too.

It's one of the side quests—if you fail to clear it within a set time, the main story's difficulty spikes.

If the time limit matches what I remember, I've still got plenty of leeway. I'll head out to clear it once summer break starts. Tossing in a search for Alsaetin's missing master on the side sounds about right.

*Whew.* What a relief.

The pathetic Chief God actually handed me a proper quest this time.

I'd cursed him out plenty over the past stretch, so I was half-convinced I'd finally be paying for my karma.

Turns out you're more merciful than I gave you credit for, huh, pathetic Chief God?

If that's the case, how about giving me something besides Practice Mode, you scrub?

You dumped an urgent quest on me, I cleared it for you, and that was the reward? Hm?

Keep this up and next time I might just ignore every word that comes out of your mouth?

Well... I suppose I should at least check what Practice Mode is actually like. Reality might differ from the game, after all.

I can test it out, and if it turns out to be utterly useless, I'll discard it then. With that thought, I moved to enter Practice Mode—

A warning message appeared. One that had never existed in the game.

Hmm. So there's something different from the game, is there?

"Child? Are you listening? Hurry along.""Grandpa, sorry, but I'm stopping by the dorm first."

There's something I need to verify.

*

The moment I returned to my dormitory at the Academy, I activated Practice Mode on the spot.

Immediately, my consciousness grew hazy—just like when I'd been enveloped by the Face-Connoisseur Fox's mist.

When I finally came to, I was somewhere else entirely.

A training yard as pristine as if it had been built minutes ago, without a trace of lived-in warmth. A lone training dummy standing dumbly at its center. The scenery of Practice Mode I'd grown sick of staring at in the game.

Seriously? Not a single thing is different.

I actually let myself hope, since they made such a show of it. What a letdown.

If this is all Practice Mode has to offer, there's zero reason to ever come here.

"Oho. What is this, child? Is this place thy mental world?"

The voice, which usually rang out directly inside my skull, instead drifted past my ear—and I turned my head.

Standing beside me was a powerfully built old man in full armor.

He flexed his fist open and shut, chuckled, surveyed his surroundings, then strode toward me.

"Hm. This looks to be a most fitting place for training."

...Wait, what?

Grandpa, why are you here?!