A Mesugaki Never Rests (4)
I took a deep breath and layered divinity over my fist.
Sure enough, warmth-rich divinity gathered around my knuckles, just like it had when I'd stayed up all night training in the mental world yesterday. Checking the divinity that sheathed my fist like a gauntlet, I settled into the stance Grandpa had taught me.
According to him, unleashing a full-power strike isn't about channeling strength from a single part of your body. A true full-power attack puts your whole body into the blow — starting from your footwork, riding up through the hips, into the arm, and detonating at the very last instant.
Following the advice that had already worn itself into my muscles, I swung my fist at the training dummy. Cracks spiderwebbed outward from the point of impact, and before long the dummy exploded, collapsing in a heap on the floor.
The only proof it had been standing until a moment ago was the wooden core jutting up from the wreckage.
"So training in the mental world really does carry over into reality."
"Looks like it."
I'd smashed training dummies before. The full-power swings of my mace could crumple steel like paper. But I'd never once blown one apart with my bare fist — let alone in a single strike.
So this was holy fist arts.
Wow. That's insane power.
"Feeling motivated, are ye?"
"Yes!"
Feeling motivated? Grandpa, is that even a question? I'd only just gotten started and I was already putting out this kind of power. How could I not be motivated?
That said, I doubted I could actually use this in a real fight yet. The divinity cost of producing a single strike was enormous. Even as Armadi's apostle, carrying a rather generous reserve of the stuff, I'd burned through more than half of it for that one attack.
This was definitely a job for Practice Mode. No worrying about draining your divinity dry in there.
"Still, ye've a long road yet. With zero fine control, all ye can do is hurl out a desperate finisher."
"I'll practice. Whatever."
It's not like I have a choice — I'm going to be getting run ragged every single night from now on anyway. Grind hard enough and it'll click eventually.
"Miss! That was truly magnificent!"
Since the fist had taken a lot out of me, I was in the middle of recovering my strength when Karl's voice drifted over from behind me. Not that the face-connoisseur fox had been stalking around or anything — I'd posted him back there myself from the start, for the sparring match to come.
After all, if my opponent was Karl, I could go all-out without any reservations whatsoever.
Among the Academy's current first-years, no one could stand up to me in a one-on-one duel when I fought at full power. Frey was the only one I could push myself even somewhat hard against, and even she was a notch or two below me — hardly someone I could grit my teeth and give my genuine best against.
Karl, though, was different. He was still a opponent far, far stronger than I was.
I'd known Karl was strong from the very beginning. Even back when we first met, I couldn't land a single hit on him, and he was openly going easy on me.
But you know what? Compared to when I first transmigrated, I've gotten monstrously stronger since then.
And even so, I still couldn't bring myself to dream of catching up to Karl. The stronger I got — the more my skills grew — the more I came to understand just what an astonishing monster this man was.
And yet this guy was supposedly just some throwaway flatfoot among the Aln family's knights. The Aln knight order really is an absurd hive of monsters.
No wonder Grandpa had gaped and demanded to know what kind of place this Academy even was. And I could see why the professors looked at my skills and said, well, she is Aln blood, after all.
"It has been some time since I last crossed blades with you, Miss."
Karl stood before me gripping the wooden sword he'd favored since forever ago. He wore plain cloth with not a single piece of armor, but that posed no problem at all. A knight of his caliber knew exactly how to shield his own body with mana.
Even if I swung my mace at full power right now, I doubted I could draw blood from him.
Or... maybe a little different, if I put holy fist arts behind it?
"You seem to have spent quite a lot. Are you certain you don't wish to rest more?"
"Pervy noob-dog♡ Getting all worried over your mistress, mutt?♡ Kyahaha♡ Such admirable devotion♡ Should I pat your head or something?♡ You disgusting pervy noob-dog?♡"
I'd been provoking Karl since before the match even started. Going all-out meant exactly this kind of thing.
I was still hopelessly outmatched against Karl. I was in no position to be picky about my methods.
"I would dearly like to claim that reward, but I shall defer it for later."
Yet for all the intensity of my provocations, the buff coming back wasn't much. Karl had reined in his emotions despite everything.
Spending every day at my side, absorbing all manner of abuse, had apparently desensitized him somewhat.
It was within my expectations, so I didn't panic. I knew it wouldn't be long before Karl lost his cool entirely.
Shield in my left hand — the one the dwarves had made — and Grandpa in my right.
One deep breath, then I chanted a litany of holy spells in my mind. Spells to raise my physical abilities. To boost vitality. To elevate my luck. Whatever they were, I cast every single one that would benefit me now.
Then I spread my remaining divinity across my entire body, reinforcing my physical capabilities the way others reinforced themselves with mana.
Clumsy in far too many places to call it efficient — but it didn't matter. Efficiency and all the rest could go hang, because I had exactly one goal.
Landing one solid hit on Karl.
"Are you ready?"
"And the pervy noob-dog?♡ Got yourself all prepared to get flattened by your mistress and come crawling?♡"
"No. I apologize, Miss, but I have no intention of losing to you just yet."
Karl feigned composure, but this round of provocation had clearly landed. Unlike before, I could feel the buff flowing in without even trying.
And that wrapped up the groundwork, more or less.
"Now then. Let's see what ye've got."
"Shall we begin, pervy noob-dog?♡"
"Whenever you're ready."
In an instant I held my breath and stepped in.
The distance between Karl and me was short — one step of these stubby little legs would close it entirely.
But Karl didn't grant my approach so easily. To keep me at sword's reach, he deliberately smashed his blade against my shield.
My opening charge was rendered completely useless.
Dammit. He's fast.
So that I'm not losing to you yet was the honest truth, huh! You pervy noob-dog!
Even the speed of his sword was on a different level from our old sparring sessions!
Parrying the relentless barrage, I clenched my jaw.
"Desperate to beat your own mistress? That's just dirty♡ Ugly♡ Pathetic little scumbag mutt♡"
"Haha! Ugly beats losing, as they say!"
Did seeing me use holy fist arts actually rattle him a little?! If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have bothered testing it out!
Squeaking a step forward between Karl's relentless strikes was maddeningly difficult. The bigger problem was how infuriatingly well he kept his distance.
I advance one step — he retreats one step!
I try to open space and hunt for an opening — he hunts me instead!
God, this is such a annoying way to spar!
"Stay calm, Lucy."
"I'm trying!"
"When thine opponent keeps his distance, it means an opening for thy attack is always being offered. Understand?"
Grandpa told me: hide behind the shield, watch, and wait patiently for the enemy's attack.
Easy for you to say! was my immediate reaction, but I did as I was told. After being put through the wringer by Grandpa all last night, I'd felt his greatness with my whole body firsthand.
If Grandpa was the one giving the advice, there had to be something to it.
"How long do you intend to simply watch, Miss?"
"Dumb pervy noob-dog♡ I'm toying with you, obviously♡ Don't you get it?♡ Guess you traded your brain away for dog status too♡"
His sword was far faster than in our old duels — hard to track with my eyes at first, but as the exchanges piled up, it slowly grew familiar. When I first began blocking Karl's blade, I moved my shield purely on the instincts of the Iron Wall skill. As I adapted, my own judgment began weaving in between those instincts.
The feel for the shield built over long years. My towering shield proficiency stacked on top of it. And finally, the Iron Wall's guidance.
The moment those three fused into one—
"Hm?"
—my first true parry fired.
The instant his sword touched my shield, its force plummeted, and Karl's blade glanced away. A sliver of breathing room opened up for me.
But that room didn't last. A veteran of countless real battles, Karl adapted to the new variable at blistering speed.
The moment I took a single step forward, three consecutive strikes drove me back.
God, this is brutal!
Is it okay for a knight to be this desperate just to beat his own mistress?! You're supposed to read the room, gauge the situation, and know when to lose gracefully! That's what being a functional adult is!
Granted, if I were in his shoes, I'd be gritting my teeth too. I can't even imagine what Karl would say if he lost to Lucy.
But Karl, you enjoy getting verbally abused and treated like a dog!
So just roll over and lose already!
As the standoff dragged on, my parries landed more and more often. From landing one by sheer fluke between combinations, to deflecting often enough to genuinely fluster him, to — at last — being able to manufacture parry openings on purpose.
"Is this where you start acting all high and mighty?♡ Can't even break through a shield held by a small, cute girl♡ Noob swordsmanship♡ Trash-tier knight♡"
And of course, I never forgot to lace the taunts in between.
In games, the Rage status effect was barely worth considering — but reality was different! Forcibly ripping the calm out of your opponent is an enormous advantage!
There was the downside that Karl's strikes grew fiercer as he heated up, but at this level the Mesugaki skill's buff could smooth that right over!
"It's about time ye tried a counterattack, I'd say."
By the time Karl's one-sided offensive had shifted into a fierce exchange between the two of us, Grandpa spoke up.
"You mean it's time to bare my fangs, right?"
"Do ye have something in mind?"
"Obviously!"
While I was busy deflecting that wooden sword Karl was swinging with more sincerity than usual, exactly one thing occupied my mind!
How do I land a hit on that composed little noob who's fuming on the inside and pretending to be relaxed on the outside!
"Hmm. Good. Then go on — show me."
"Yes!"
Just you watch, Grandpa!
Watch the girl you trained bury a mace right in a noob's smug face!