I Became a Mesugaki (7)
On the surface, Evans Dungeon looks like any ordinary mid-sized dungeon.
But what lies within is something else entirely.
Step through the hidden passage concealed inside, and you find the Trial grounds left behind by Ruel — one of the old heroes of the Soul Academy world.
Enter, endure a handful of trials, and if you clear them all, you're rewarded with one excellent passive skill and Ruel's Mace, one of the game's endgame-tier items.
Ruel's Mace has a number of effects, but three of them demand your attention.
Increased experience gain. A bonus to all mace-related skills.
And above all, the fact that this weapon has no level or stat requirements to equip.
Like any game, the weapons you can wield in Soul Academy change as your level climbs.
Low-level weapons are, for the most part, junk, while the ones reserved for high levels are excellent.
But Ruel's Mace is free of all such restrictions.
It grows alongside its wielder's level, and at every stage it boasts above-average performance. A truly fine weapon.
Even judging at max level, there are only a handful of blunt weapons that outclass Ruel's Mace.
Yes, there is a dedicated endgame mace, but its acquisition difficulty is so absurd that nobody bothers with it unless they're min-maxing for a leaderboard run.
For actually playing the game, Ruel's Mace alone is more than enough.
Anyone raising a mace build just uses Ruel's Mace from start to finish. That's simply how it goes.
Ever since hearing the knight's words, I had thought of nothing but whether I could clear the Trial of Ruel — and at last, I reached my conclusion: it was entirely possible.
Greed took root.
I'd been planning to visit Evans Dungeon eventually anyway.
Now that I'd committed to the mace, Ruel's Mace was a must-have item.
The moment had simply arrived a little sooner than expected.
All right. Then I'd follow the knights into Evans Dungeon.
That evening, I sought out Benedict to get permission to train alongside the knight order.
"Lucy. What is it?"
He looked pleased to see me, but remembering this morning's incident, he kept a careful distance instead of barreling over as usual.
Is he still hung up on me calling him annoying?
How can a man who looks like a troll be so thin-skinned?
So this is that trope — the tough exterior hiding a soft heart?
It was mildly amusing from a distance, but living it in person is just irritating.
Father, I came to apologize for this morning.
"Silly Father. I may have gone a bit far earlier."
"Will you forgive me?"
Yes.
"Only this once."
"Lucy!..."
He rushed over as if he'd been waiting for exactly those words, sweeping me into a hug and rubbing his beard all over my face. It was gross, but one more complaint and I was fairly certain he'd actually burst into tears, so I let it slide.
Dealing with this man is exhausting.
Do all fathers dote on their daughters like this? I've never had parents, so I wouldn't know.
I endured it for a long while, letting Benedict get it out of his system — until it occurred to me we might be there all night, and I pushed him away.
Benedict sheepishly stepped back.
"Forgive me. I was just so happy."
That's fine, but there's something I'd like to ask.
"No need. Silly Father. Actually, I have a question for you."
"What is it?"
May I come along to the knights' training?
"I'm coming to the knight training too."
Seconds ago, Benedict had been grinning like an idiot; now he froze solid in an instant.
He stared at me as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.
"What did you say?"
I want to enter the dungeon.
"I'm going into the dungeon."
"Absolutely not! Never!"
Absolutely not my foot.
Benedict tried desperately to talk me out of it, but did that man — forever weak where his daughter was concerned — really imagine he could outlast my stubbornness?
Unable to find a single argument against my stated reason — that I wanted dungeon experience before the Academy entrance exam — he eventually had no choice but to nod.
Permission secured. Now it was time to prepare so I could actually clear the Trial of Ruel.
The trial breaks down into three broad stages.
The first is the Trial of Protection.
You defend the statue at the center of the arena against waves of monsters.
The monsters scale with the level of the character taking the trial.
Enter at level one and you get goblins; go in at max level and some A-rank dungeon boss strolls out with its entire entourage in tow.
Right now, I'm level zero — I haven't even started the game. So the enemies in my trial will be laughably weak.
The second is the Trial of Sanctity. Simply put, it's a quiz on the contents of this world's holy scriptures.
Several questions are drawn from a fixed pool of hundreds, and answer them within the time limit and you pass to the next stage.
No preparation needed here. I have every question — and every correct answer — memorized.
I've cleared the Trial of Ruel close to a thousand times. There's no chance of me fumbling this.
The last is the Trial of Endurance.
According to the game's description, it tests a character's mental fortitude by showing them something tied to their deepest trauma.
What I saw on my monitor was, in most cases, something grotesque or horrifying.
There's no real strategy here — gritting it out with mental resistance and mind-type skills is the only answer — and for that, I have just the skills prepared.
Fear Overcome and Unbreakable Will.
With Fear Overcome restoring my composure even in extremity of terror, and Unbreakable Will saving me from a single death, the third trial is easily cleared.
At least, that's how it went when I was playing the game.
Which means the one thing I need to prepare, starting now, is combat training to get through the first trial.
Even if the monsters are watered down, combat is still combat.
Someone like me, who has never once learned how to move her body, isn't about to fight beautifully in live conditions.
Thrown into the middle of a battlefield with no preparation, I'd freeze up for certain — so training beforehand was essential.
Mace in one hand, shield in the other, I stood before a wooden training dummy.
I had already confirmed that this world runs on the game's systems, exactly as they were.
Which meant all that running while carrying a weapon had surely raised my mace proficiency quite a bit.
I didn't know how a "proficiency" stat would manifest in reality, but it had to be doing something.
The same way the skills I'd loaded into Lucy's body had activated.
And how do I check? Simple. Swing the mace.
Thwack!
After mindlessly bashing the dummy for a while, an odd certainty crept over me: I could swing this thing better.
The way I gripped it.
The way I moved my arm.
Exactly where to add force mid-swing to put more power behind the blow.
I followed the certainty in my head and swung again —
THOOM!
The moment I saw the wooden shards scatter from the impact, I knew: that conviction had produced a better result.
It was clear.
Proficiency exists in this world.
And just like in the game, the more proficiency you build, the better you handle weapons tied to it.
Ha. Well, doesn't that make everything easier?
Proficiency grinding is something I've done to death and back in the game.
Who knew all those sleepless nights spent figuring out how to level a character faster and stronger — all for the sake of properly enjoying the game's content — would pay off like this?
Good thing I lived the no-life gamer life.
No. Wait. No, it isn't.
If I'd never played Soul Academy in the first place, I wouldn't have become this godforsaken mesugaki.
Should've lived a little more of a normal life.
Shouldn't have downloaded some unverified, sketchy mod just to chase new content.
As I cursed the idiot I'd been a week ago, anger boiled up from somewhere deep inside.
Damn it all.
You're going to be my stress relief, wooden dummy.
I will pour every ounce of frustration I've built up since becoming a mesugaki straight into your stupid head!
In early Soul Academy, there's one undisputed best technique for raising mace proficiency.
A straight downward smash with the mace.
Its name — Head Crusher — is barbaric, but the technique itself is a masterclass in simplicity is best.
Short animation, great damage for an early skill, and it builds proficiency fast. There isn't a single reason to drop it.
Today's goal: smash this wooden dummy's skull in with Head Crusher.
As my training piled up and I edged closer to mace mastery, I sensed something strange on the third day.
A full hour of swinging, and I no longer felt that certainty that I could do it better.
Truthfully, the warning signs had been there for a while.
At first, every single swing revealed an improvement — but as time passed, it took ten swings, then dozens, then hundreds before I felt anything.
That's the level cap kicking in, presumably.
In Soul Academy's proficiency system, gains are throttled by level.
The further your proficiency runs ahead of your level, the harder it becomes to raise.
So to properly grind proficiency, leveling has to happen alongside it.
But right now, I can't leave the estate.
Once I'm inside Evans Dungeon, sure — I can level then. Not now, though.
So for the moment, I had to stop here. The returns weren't worth it anymore.
Mace proficiency is maxed out as far as it can go, which means it's time to work on shield proficiency — but for that, I need someone to fight me.
In Soul Academy, shields count as a kind of armor, so proficiency only rises when you actually block attacks.
There's a cheap exploit for grinding shields quickly, but that one's only usable once I'm at the Academy, so for now I'll have to do it the honest way.
Hmm. Should I ask Benedict to round up a sparring partner for me?
Under the excuse of wanting real combat feel before we enter the dungeon.
Not a bad plan.
If I'm being strict, it isn't even really an excuse.
I'm confident my mace work is quite respectable now, but swinging a weapon at a dummy that stands still and swinging one at an enemy that's alive and moving are two entirely different things.
Walk into the Trial of Ruel with zero live-combat experience, and who knows what could go wrong.
So to prepare for the real thing, I need someone to spar with.
"My lady? Are you resting?"
While I was mulling it over, that pesky knight wandered up to me.
He was annoyingly handsome — it was starting to genuinely creep me out — but for once, the sight of him was actually welcome.
"My lady?"
Sir Knight. Are you busy?
"Junk knight. You busy?"
"No, my lady, not particularly. Why do you ask?"
Then would you spar with me a little?
"Then spar with me."
"...I beg your pardon?"
So I can raise my shield proficiency.
And while I'm at it, give my skull-cracking skills a proper field test.