Final Exams (2)
Carl had never believed, from the very beginning, that Frey would grow enough in the time remaining until the final exam to push Lucy into a corner.
'The Young Lady of Kent possesses talent that will surely be recorded in history. Before long, she will likely become someone who could topple the likes of me with ease. And yet, the Young Lady of Alrn is every bit her equal.'
Frey was a genius.
Aside from the basics of swordsmanship her father had taught her, she had filled in every remaining gap through talent alone—enough to become one of the continent's most promising prodigies.
But the same held true for her great rival.
Lucy Alrn was a genius as well.
In a span of barely a year of training, she had gained talent so overwhelming that she could surpass Frey entirely.
And she was hardly lazy, either. Of everyone Frey knew, Lucy was the most devoted to her training.
Overwhelming talent and astonishing mental fortitude.
Either one alone would have been enough to earn the title of genius—yet greedy Lucy clutched both in her hands.
So even if Frey gave her utmost effort for a month, the gap between the two of them would be difficult to close. At best, it might hold steady.
'However, victory in battle is not decided by talent and skill alone.'
Carl had offered a suggestion.
If the straightforward path failed, there was always another way.
'The Young Lady of Alrn's personality has grown considerably more venomous than before, but that doesn't mean she's lost her old nature entirely.'
'What are you trying to say?'
'I am saying that the Young Lady of Alrn is a remarkably naive person.'
'Naive?'
'Yes. Naive enough to play along even while fully aware of both your plan and mine.'
Frey had tilted her head at a word that seemed to sit worlds away from Lucy—but rather than explain further, Carl simply laid out his plan.
Lucy was well-accustomed to provoking others, but utterly unaccustomed to being provoked herself.
So if Frey stood before her and hurled insults, Lucy would take the bait.
Prodded into taunting Lucy without giving it much thought, Frey soon realized that Carl had been right all along.
The expression on Lucy's provoked face was anything but pleasant—anyone could see that.
Weakling?
Coward?
Pfft—hah!
I never imagined I'd be hearing things like that about myself.
Listening to Frey deliver her flat, deadpan taunt, I burst out laughing on the inside.
Who would have thought I'd ever be called a weakling to my face!
There's no way Frey came up with this herself. Is this Carl's plan? Rattle my emotions, force me to lower my shield, and make me charge in?
She knows that if I turtle up behind my shield and drag this into a war of attrition, she has no chance of winning—so she's trying to create a variable.
But seriously, isn't it way too obvious?
If you're going to run a gambit like this, you're supposed to hide your intent and gently chip away at my feelings.
When you chant weakling, weakling with a face like a blank slate, it's hard for me to even pretend I didn't notice.
I stole a glance at Carl, who was playing assistant instructor off to the side—and found him facepalming with an awkward smile.
Ah. So even you didn't expect Frey to provoke me like that, huh?
Haha. That's what rehearsals are for, you dummy.
"What will you do, then?"
'Hmm.'
Frankly, if I just ignored that taunt and pushed my shield forward, I could overwhelm Frey.
It's true she's improved a great deal over this past month—but even so, she's nowhere near strong enough to break through my guard.
Before long, she'd fall for one of my taunts, make a mistake, and the match would be decided in that instant.
But you know what? It just... stings my pride.
I could smash Frey to pieces even without my shield, and she's calling me a coward for merely hiding behind it.
From a scrub of a swordswoman who has nothing going for her but raw talent, no less.
'Shall I play along a little?'
Considering the gap between Frey and me, I doubt I'd lose even if I got a bit careless.
Time to teach her a lesson, then...
"Hmph. The blessing seems to be devouring you, girl."
'...Wha?!'
Grandpa's words snapped me back to my senses.
Why on earth was I planning to play along with the enemy's scheme just now?!
Frey might be weaker than me at this moment, but she is not someone I can afford to get careless against!
She's the type with more than enough potential to overturn that gap if I slip up even once.
Whoaaa. So the Mesugaki skill had this kind of effect on the mind too?!
I've spent all this time doing nothing but provoking other people, so I never knew being on the receiving end would hit me like this!
Haah. Why does this skill do nothing but stack more and more demerits the deeper you dig into it? Add some perks for once! Perks!
And another thing! Face-Con Fox's blessing! Doesn't it work?!
If the skill that's supposed to raise my resistance to mental debuffs can't block this, what's the point?!
Do you have any idea how much I suffered just to get you?!
I gritted my teeth and endured the humiliation. I even put on a bunny girl outfit! So why won't you do your job?!
Don't tell me blocking the Mesugaki skill's demerits is all you can manage?!
No way!
Okay, fine, this blessing did come from that pathetic face-obsessed fox—but its performance was rock solid.
Back in the game, it blocked pretty much every mental debuff in existence. And you're telling me the Mesugaki skill's demerits are strong enough to overwhelm it?!
The Mesugaki skill is straight-up garbage!
Does whoever made this thing even have a brain?
Think about balance! If you shove a screwed-up skill like this into a game people pay money for...
Oh, wait. It's a mod, right? Right. Mods being totally unbalanced is pretty standard.
But usually the busted parts are the good ones—why is the bad side of this thing equally busted?
"Enough dawdling. You have an enemy right in front of you."
'Right. True.'
It would be rude to Frey to keep spacing out like this.
It's not a problem that thinking would solve anyway, so let's shelve it for now.
I'll just pick up a few more mental-type skills later. That should fix it.
...It'll fix it, right? Right?
"Scared, you weak little coward? Too frightened to come at me?"
Now that I knew about the Mesugaki skill's new demerit, I could literally feel heat rising in my head.
Yeesh. This is definitely going to be a problem down the line.
Thank goodness I caught it now—if this had blown up in my face during a real battle someday... ugh. Just imagining it is horrifying.
I should thank Frey for this.
"Well, you're one to talk—you're too scared to close the distance yourself, aren't you?♡ Funny, a scrub calling me a coward?♡"
"Yeah. I am a scrub. And you're a coward."
So, in the spirit of gratitude, let's give Frey exactly what she's asking for.
I mean, I'm marching into a battlefield that favors her—it's the least I can offer as a reward for all her help, right?
And just in case anyone gets the wrong idea: I am absolutely not doing this because I'm angry.
I'm completely calm right now.
I simply want to give Frey's head a nice little bump. That's all.
Taking ten deep breaths, I tightened my grip on the mace.
"Going, then?"
'Yes.'
"Very well. Do as you please. It's high time you added a few more ways of fighting to your repertoire."
Alright. Let's do this.
I held my breath and drove my foot forward.
In an instant, the distance between Frey and me collapsed.
Frey, who had been standing still and watching me charge, didn't retreat—she swung her sword instead.
She'd committed her move the moment my foot moved, so her blade traced its arc completely unopposed, free of any hesitation.
I wedged my shield into the path of that trajectory—so vividly beautiful it was almost breathtaking.
This was a forcing move.
I was trying to stop a sword swung with perfect form using a shield thrust out from an unstable stance—brute, graceless interference.
Yet shieldwork built upon overwhelming strength turned that forcing move into the correct answer.
Shield met sword.
The one sent staggering back was the sword.
Tiing!
Beyond that crisp, ringing note, I could see Frey's face, her lip caught between her teeth.
Hah! Then maybe don't start a taunting contest, you dummy?
A tiny gap had opened the instant her sword was knocked away.
I swung my mace at Frey's head.
Frey did not disappoint.
Anyone would have frozen at the sudden charge—yet even in that instant, she chose the best possible option.
Twisting her body to evade the mace,
recalling her own rebounded sword,
and swinging it straight at the wrist I'd exposed by swinging the mace forward.
Sharp.
If I'd responded half-heartedly, my wrist would've gone flying right off.
My answer to Frey's flawless technique was crude.
I simply slammed my shoulder into her mid-swing and hurled her aside.
Frey, absorbed in her swordstroke, failed to react to my charge and went tumbling across the floor.
"Weak little swordswoman♡ All that yapping, and you can't even back it up♡ Aren't you embarrassed?♡"
"Not at all."
That had to hurt, but Frey rose to her feet without the slightest sign of it.
And then she took her stance once more.
"Is that all you've got, then? Pathetic."
"Oho?♡ What's this, what's this♡ Did you go crazy and decide you want a beating from me?♡ Weak♡ and feeble♡ and a total masochist freak on top of it♡ How disgusting♡"
"...Tch."
Pfft-hah! Seriously, why would anyone pick a verbal fight with a mesugaki?
As long as I have the Mesugaki skill, I am undefeated in trash talk.
"Come at me whenever you're ready. Weakling."
"Oh, I will♡ Just hold on while I make you beg for your life♡"
Right then. Time to go put a bump on Frey's head.
Provoke the opponent and bait out her attack—that part had gone exactly as planned.
Thanks to it, I'd succeeded in dragging the fight onto terrain that favored me.
But that didn't mean the gap between Lucy and me had vanished.
Wrenching her head aside just in time to dodge the mace aimed at her skull, Frey took the follow-up shield bash square in the stomach and gritted her teeth.
"Giving up yet?♡ I guess you really do have a masochistic streak♡"
Lucy is strong.
Even now—having abandoned her own style of fighting to step onto my chosen battlefield—she is.
Overwhelming physical ability.
Mastery of the shield as both weapon and wall, offense and defense alike.
Combat instincts so sharp it's hard to believe we're the same age.
Not a single thing about her falls short.
And that's why the urge to swing my sword keeps growing inside me.
Every day, when I swung my sword to break through Lucy's shield, my heart was full of red.
That shield was so hateful, so infuriating, I couldn't stand it.
So I just kept hacking away at it blindly—and walked straight into her trap.
But now it's different.
My heart is still absolutely full of red—but at the same time, there's another color in there too.
Trading blows with Lucy at arm's length like this, the corners of my mouth keep curling up on their own.
This feeling... what is it?
I don't really know.
But it doesn't feel bad.
Frey sidestepped a single pace to slip past the shield pushing toward her, and smiled.
In her world, only two people existed: Lucy and herself.
Perhaps that was why.
Having erased everything else from her mind, Frey's sword gathered speed with every passing moment—and tracing the arc it carved, a faint, hazy light of blue began to bloom in its wake.