Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: What Even Is Training?
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'My hunch was spot on. Of course it was.'
'If the game system hadn't kicked in... ugh, I would've bitten my tongue and ended it all right there. For real.'
Shiron tossed the weapon onto the ground and broke into a satisfied grin.
Coming to the training grounds had definitely been the right call.
His bedroom was fine for experimenting without drawing eyes, but it had its limits as a space.
Shiron glanced around the training grounds, blanketed in snow like a vast white field.
The area was big enough for a soccer pitch, yet utterly deserted.
He was relieved by that, but it nagged at him too.
'It just doesn't add up. Even with the servants standing guard like fortresses, no escorts or attendants tailing me?'
'No prying eyes is great for me, but still.'
He let out a sigh as potential threats—like lurking assassins or hidden mana beasts—crossed his mind.
Fresh air filled his lungs to the brim.
It was a feeling hard to put into words.
Swinging a sword atop the snowy expanse felt the same.
Before the possession, even as a kid, he'd never tried something like this.
The novelty had him oddly thrilled.
Thanks to that, he poured every ounce of strength into swinging weapons until the sun passed its zenith.
"Hey."
?
He'd been catching his breath for a good while when a girl's voice came from behind.
"..."
Had he been too absorbed in his task? Or was Lucia's presence just that unnoticeable?
He must've been swinging his sword not far from her, yet at some point, she'd slipped from his awareness as if she'd vanished.
'Even lost in the zone, that's...'
A chill ran down his spine, and Shiron rubbed his arms.
If she hadn't called out first, he might never have noticed her.
And there was something else critically wrong.
Snapping to, he replayed his recent actions in his head and cleared his throat awkwardly.
His face heated up for no reason.
"Ahem."
A ten-year-old kid swinging weapons around while giggling like a maniac?
Even he had to admit it looked insane.
Sure enough, his guess wasn't off.
Her slightly furrowed brow caught his eye first, but it wasn't the angry look from his memories.
Lucia—his eight-year-old sister—was wearing a genuinely worried expression.
Even knowing she was a reincarnator, there was no shaking the aura her appearance gave off.
'Damn it, did I get too carried away?'
Come to think of it... Shiron was shirtless right now.
There was nothing to brag about there, so it embarrassed him a bit.
He hurriedly scooped up his discarded clothes from the ground and threw them on.
"Something you need?"
After a quick face rub, Shiron asked Lucia in a gentle tone.
He desperately acted like nothing was wrong while keeping his cool.
"Um... y'know. Your head... body okay?"
"Huh?"
Lucia had checked on him out of the blue. Shiron blinked in confusion.
"What?"
"Yesterday, I got too worked up and... my hand flew first. I want to apologize for that."
She scratched her cheek as she said it.
The jumbled words and stutters were tough to parse, but her intent came through crystal clear.
'What's this all of a sudden? She wants to apologize?'
Shiron was dumbfounded. She'd knocked him flat with all her might, and now this?
'Why now, of all times?'
The timing felt off, too. She could've apologized back in the hall earlier.
'Did she need time to psych herself up or something?'
He had no clue what shift in her mood brought this on, but Shiron nodded anyway.
He'd just spotted a path forward. Better accept the apology.
Brushing it off coolly like nothing happened would've looked weird, too.
"Yeah, sure. Thanks for the apology. Mind stepping aside? I've got more to do."
"..."
Work came first.
Shiron averted his eyes from Lucia and gripped the weapon in the snow.
Not forgetting to cram a snowball into his mouth for grit, he swung hard with a shout.
"Hup!"
Whoosh—swoosh—
In his hands: a staff and a mace.
He wasn't grabbing weapons willy-nilly. He'd done daggers and spears earlier, so he was just methodically swinging in order.
Sword, spear, mace, dagger, shield, staff.
Drawing on hundreds of hours of in-game knowledge was a breeze.
Who knew the rage-fueled replay grinds would pay off like this?
Panting, Shiron kept swinging.
'My balance is finally steadying—no more wobbling on every swing.'
'Who'd have thought I'd raise weapon proficiency like this? Wild.'
How long had it been since he'd felt this rush of accomplishment?
No status window to track progress irked him a tad, but oh well.
The constant feedback from his efforts... confirming the game system was active was a huge win already.
But only Shiron thought that way.
"What the heck are you even doing?"
*
"What the heck are you even doing?"
About an hour back into the grind, Lucia's question hit. Shiron paused his work and turned.
"Can't you tell? Training."
The answer flowed smoother than expected. It was crisp and clear, even to him.
He swept back his black hair and flashed a grin.
...What? Lucia's eyes widened, her mouth agape.
Shiron's confidence screamed he'd nailed the response.
She'd asked, but his reply only plunged her deeper into confusion.
"Training? That?"
"Yep. Training. Got you interested or something?"
Shiron held out the staff and mace.
Teaching her a bit struck him as mutually beneficial.
All things considered, having her take the lead would make clearing the game easier than doing it solo.
So the sooner she powered up, the better.
Bad memories aside, hindering her growth was straight-up sabotage...
His countless playthroughs screamed this was the most efficient path.
"Hold up."
"?"
But Lucia had no way of knowing that.
"What'd you just say? Repeat it."
"What? 'Interested or something?'"
"No, before that."
"Training?"
"Yes!"
Lucia balled her fists, trembling. She'd lived her whole life as a warrior.
Shiron's absurd answer lit a fire in her.
"That's... that's not training. I've never seen or heard of anything like it."
"What're you on about? How much life have you even lived?"
He knew she was a reincarnator. But flaunting that knowledge? Nah, too messy.
Better dodge misunderstandings. So he poked holes in her words instead.
'Makes sense she'd balk. Even a Sword God like Lucia can't wrap her head around it.'
Understandable, but no need to agree.
She was a character straight from the story. He held the info edge—he knew best.
Shiron decided to ignore her take on purpose.
"Anyway! Wildly flailing a stick around? That's labor, not training!"
"True training polishes body and mind, unites you with nature, and confronts the ultimate martial truth!"
"Man, you talk fancy."
"...!"
Thud—
Lucia stomped hard.
Frustrating as hell. This kid was just... infuriating.
Embarrassing to admit, but debating training in front of Kylie the Sword God?
Her comrades would've lost it.
'Calm down. He's just a kid. Kids think their worldview is everything.'
Lucia reined in her excitement and sorted her thoughts.
She couldn't reveal herself now. She was an eight-year-old girl. His reaction made sense.
If roles were reversed, she'd react the same. But she couldn't back down.
Her untrained blow had knocked out a martial house kid in one hit.
And if that house claimed descent from her?
Passing off that sloppy level as Sword God lineage? If this boy got beaten elsewhere, the humiliation...
She couldn't just let it slide.
'They'd say "Sword God's bloodline? Big whoop." Gotta whip his grit into shape.'
'Yeah. Quitting here? Not me. Heroes don't stand for injustice.'
'I'll train him so he can take my hits, but not anyone else's.'
Lucia resolved to convince Shiron.