Senior Knight MacKellin
Senior Knight MacKellin. This man was the sole high-ranking paladin at Tierin Cathedral, and he took it upon himself to lead and command all the other paladins.
Even regular paladins were said to be tremendous assets in fighting monsters and demonic beasts, so a high-ranking one like him... he was probably the kind of elite who'd get pulled away to take down some demon lord's army somewhere.
Anyway, I changed into the shabby training clothes he'd told me to wear and headed back out to the training grounds. Unlike the other paladins sparring in their greaves, these were just leather garments designed for easy movement.
"Oh, there you are. Take this."
MacKellin, who had been sharply overseeing the paladins with a piercing gaze, spotted me and handed over a wooden sword he'd fetched from somewhere. It was sized perfectly for my build, ideal for swings.
I'd seen some combat nuns like Karami training with wooden maces or swords, but holding one myself made the whole thing feel real all of a sudden.
He said that once I grew bigger, maybe, but for now, I shouldn't even think about using any other weapon. Paladins' weapons were things like flails and maces besides swords, and they all had one thing in common: they were insanely heavy.
Sure, there might be lighter ones if you looked, but since the main goal was smashing monsters, that made sense.
Strengthen yourself with divine power and just whale on them—that sounded fun in its own way.
As I swung the wooden sword around with keen interest, MacKellin chuckled and said,
"I bet you want to swing it more, but set it down on that box for now. There are conditions to becoming its master."
His voice was getting rougher and more boisterous by the minute—full trainer mode.
"What is it?"
"Everything requires the stamina to back it up. First, let's check if you're ready to learn swordsmanship by testing your physical condition."
And just like that, I was jogging out of nowhere, followed by push-ups and a bunch of other exercises to prove my fitness.
Of course, with my cheat-level body and the core strength I'd built from constant waist exercises at the nunnery, I was in top shape.
"Huff... huff... How's that? Good enough for sword lessons?"
"Oh! You've got some real stamina for a pretty boy. I thought you were some born noble... Guess I'll have to take this seriously."
From what he said, it sounded like he'd planned to just build basic stamina for a few days at first.
MacKellin pushed off the wooden fence he'd been leaning against and beckoned me to follow.
Clang!! Schiiiing!
Thud. Thunk. Thwack!
The clash of real swords and the thud of maces blocked by shields echoed vividly around us as I passed the paladins and arrived at a wooden straw dummy.
"Alright. Time to teach you the basics of swordsmanship."
MacKellin tapped the dummy while explaining the fundamentals. The theory he described sounded familiar, like stuff I'd vaguely heard back in the modern world.
The core moves: thrusting and slashing. He demonstrated with his own wooden sword, showing the proper stance in slow motion—how to position your body overall and channel your power.
Slashing covered a wide arc for more surface damage. Thrusting hit a smaller area but could be quick and lethal if you got lucky.
Since I was a total beginner, he prioritized teaching me the slash, correcting my form.
Better to land solid hits than flail around uselessly.
Thwack! Crack!
I gripped it firmly with both hands to protect my wrists, as he said, and drew a smooth arc to strike the dummy.
"Good. Your form's not bad. But when chopping down like that... from the midpoint, think of dropping your arms. You're tensing your grip too much—it'll wreck your wrist after a few swings. Again."
For the next ten minutes or so, I held the pose and asked about stuff I was curious about, peppering him with questions on swordsmanship.
"What about a real enemy right in front of you? They'd be moving, right?"
"Good question. Of course, they're not idiots—they won't just stand there. That's why footwork and leg positioning are crucial. Stance width like this, to avoid accidentally slicing your own feet... "
Slash. Thrust. Distance management. The basics sank into my brain.
"Measure distance with thrusts. Measure with slashes. All your moves derive from linking what you've learned. Once you add divine power or mana, you get even more combos and variety... but this is plenty for now."
"Hah... ack. Got it."
Even just this short lesson gave me a clear direction. He was basically a one-shot tutor—super easy to understand.
I lost track of time. Sweat poured down my face, and hot heat built up inside my training clothes around my chest.
"Take a break. No need to overwork muscles you haven't used before right off the bat."
I leaned back against a fence to rest, as he suggested. He seemed like he had something to say, glancing at me slyly before speaking up.
"Plenty of novices your age swing swords, so it's not weird... but Raoul, why do you want to learn? Dream of being an adventurer like the other guys in town?"
I almost put on a fake act for his question, like "To protect the weak!" But for some reason, I wanted to be straight with MacKellin, so I barely held back.
Maybe sweating it out dulled my mask.
"'Cause it's fun. And cool. I'd like to protect myself if I'm adventuring."
No matter how great sex was, I couldn't just do that all day. Ruling a limited space like a king might be fun, but I wanted at least a solid foothold to stand on my own two feet.
"Fun, huh... Just so you know, swinging a weapon comes with responsibility, right?"
A sharp point, fitting for a paladin. I frantically waved my hands denying it and subtly conveyed my pure romanticism without misunderstanding.
"Heh... You're brutally honest. Fine, I get it—you're eager to learn. Rare to be itching for real combat already... Hmm."
During the break, he shared some practical tips. For my small build, practicing upward shoulder slashes would help. Avoid blocking attacks—dodge instead. Common sense, really.
But I absorbed every word.
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"...Sir. Devotee!"
"...Huh? Y-yes?"
"Hee hee. You seem lost in thought even at dinner. The sisters are waiting."
"Ahh..."
Dinner at the nunnery cafeteria. A long rectangular table that could seat dozens, packed with nuns on both sides eating their meals while sneaking glances at me.
I was spaced out at the head seat when Bereani, one of the closest ones, smiled brightly and chided me. For reference, with the saintess here, they were all in proper nun habits outside the dorms.
I snapped to and turned to look at those "waiting sisters."
Three nuns standing by my side, cheeks flushed, lips pursed and moistened. Tonight's regular duty nuns...
Their job was simple: crawl under the table while I ate and suck my dick.
Under Bereani's rules, the on-duty sisters serviced me with just enough stimulation not to interrupt my meal. When I came, they'd huddle their mouths together and savor the semen.
It was their dinner, too.
"Um, tonight... I'm kinda tired. Sorry, can we do it next time?"
The three, ready to crawl under, made sad faces at my response but quickly composed themselves and returned to their seats. Shoulders visibly slumped.
Ugh. Sorry, girls. Got some thinking to do. Not in the mood...
At a dinner with all these beautiful nuns, why was I spacing out like an idiot? Unconsciously mulling over the swordsmanship I'd learned earlier.
"I-is that so. If you're tired, no helping it. I heard you trained on your own at the cathedral till afternoon... Must be exhausting. ...Planning to do it tomorrow too?"
"Yeah. So I'm turning in early tonight."
"...Understood."
Bereani replied as demurely as possible, but she looked shocked. Probably because it was the first time I'd ever refused anything sex-related.
I wolfed down the food in front of me like a man possessed while turning down the dinner fellatio.
'Tonight's the best yet.'
No joke—the tastiest meal I'd had at the nunnery so far.
Back in my room, I flopped onto the bed and stared up. But unlike usual, my gaze wasn't on the ceiling—it was fixed on the wooden sword.
I clutched the one I'd begged MacKellin for, staring at the tip.
Swoosh...
I recalled the feel of slowly arcing it through the air.
I reviewed everything he'd taught me in my head and unconsciously smiled.
"This is fun."
How long had it been since I'd focused this hard on something?
As far as I remembered, since those basketball days with my cousins as a kid. Learning from a vet made it even more fulfilling.
But I felt like I'd forgotten something important...
What was it? A nagging doubt in the corner of my mind made me lower the sword and think.
Oh, right. Conquering the saintess.
"..."
Eh, it'll work out somehow. Opportunities are always there!
I shrugged it off and raised the wooden sword overhead again.
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A few days later, at Tierin Cathedral's outdoor training grounds.
"Raoul, stop swinging for a sec."
"Yes, sir!"
I was drenched in sweat, hacking at the dummy alone, when MacKellin's voice from nearby made me halt.
"I see you're stepping like you're imagining a moving opponent. Good intent. A bit inefficient... but your speed's solid. Hips are flexible too. Let me show you how to approach it. When wearing leather or greaves, lower your center of gravity more like this... "
"Mm. I see..."
I focused on his surprisingly fluid hip and butt movements, the quick press of his soles into the ground.
To outsiders, he might look ridiculous, but I couldn't ignore it. I knew how much advantage those moves gave in real combat.
As I watched intently, he met my serious gaze, smirked, and chuckled.
"Haha... This is wild. Haven't seen someone that serious against a dummy in ages. Body itching for real sparring? I'll help with that."
MacKellin grabbed a wooden sword from the rack.
Sparring!
"Then... please go easy on me!"
Over the moon at this personal training jackpot, my eyes sparkled.