Isekai Milf Saga - Saintess Arc (5) 134: The Wooden Sword's Hidden Value

MacKellin said he'd spar with me directly while teaching me swordsmanship. In truth, to him I was probably just a cute little squirt, so calling it a spar might be a stretch... but no need to dwell on useless thoughts like that.

"He's giving you personal instruction, huh? You're one lucky kid."

"Well, the captain's pretty merciless when it comes to this stuff, though..."

The paladins were lounging around nearby during their break, but as MacKellin and I picked up our wooden swords and took our stances, they watched us with eager, amused expressions.

"I'll help you get that real combat sense you want. Come at me."

MacKellin held his sword steady, feet planted at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a consistent width. I mirrored him with the basic stance I'd drilled over the past few days, facing off.

"Here goes..."

I knew I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a total novice at swordplay. But I wasn't planning to just swing wildly without thought—I mulled over everything he'd taught me, executing the best moves I could manage.

Whoosh! I dashed in quick, planting my front foot and channeling power into an upward diagonal slash. With our height difference, a downward strike was tactically iffy, so I aimed for his armpit from below.

He blocked it with a dull thwack—exactly as expected... up to that point.

"Whoa!"

As I tried to follow up after the block, MacKellin swiftly adjusted his grip, palm pressing the end of his sword to shove me back. I stumbled away comically, landing flat on my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ass.

This guy's a straight-up thug.

I brushed the shallow dirt off my training clothes and stood, and MacKellin calmly pointed out my flaws as he licked his lips.

"You telegraphed your attack from a mile away, yelling 'I'm coming in here!' so I just timed my push to match. Your preparatory motion's way too long."

"Ah..."

He was spot on. My wind-up was so obvious it let him read my intent like an open book.

I gripped my sword calmly and closed in again, this time keeping a poker face. As I approached with a blank expression, twitching my body subtly, MacKellin smirked and held his perfect stance.

To break the pattern's simplicity, I feinted a quick hand jab to force a block—only for him to sidestep easily and smack his wooden sword down on me. It stopped precisely above my head, like something out of kendo.

"Once you see the dodge, pull your sword back fast and reset your guard. Your reflexes are too slow."

"........."

It felt like his evasion and counter happened simultaneously... but whatever, no point arguing.

.........

MacKellin's brutal sword lessons dragged on mercilessly. Ninety... no, ninety seconds. In the blink of an eye, the score hit 3-0 against me. The gap in fundamentals and buildup was huge.

And the relentless process continued.

My stamina's almost gone... Just once, let's do it right. For real.

Not a single opening in sight—my frustration must've shown in my eyes. MacKellin and the surrounding paladins looked intrigued at my burning determination.

"You've got fire in those eyes. Come on, pick up your sword again. Though... if you're tapped out, we can call it."

"Yeah, kid! Holding your own against the captain this long? No joke—you're doing great!"

MacKellin caught my legs trembling slightly and shrugged, eyes asking what I'd do next.

What choice did I have?

"........."

"Heh..."

I raised my wooden sword into stance again, lowering my center of gravity and advancing slowly. MacKellin gave a wry smile before matching me with full seriousness.

Clash and get pushed back on the first exchange. Even two exchanges, and I'd lose on basics.

Have to end it with the first strike, no question.

Focus at its peak. I lunged fast, repeating my first move: upward diagonal to the armpit.

MacKellin clashed to overpower and shove me... but!

Swish!

"!"

In that instant, I aborted the upward slash early, stepping sideways in sync. Feint and reposition at once.

A tiny mind game exploiting his quick reactions.

And then...

Whoosh!!

As my body stepped, the sword followed—my quick wrist snap turned it into a slanted overhead chop. The target flipped instantly from armpit to the nape of his neck.

My masterpiece strike so far. Cleanest and fastest I'd pulled off!

Defense couldn't match the chop's speed—this had to land.

Thud.

"Ah...?"

Shockingly, he dropped his center of gravity with animal instinct, clashing at an angle to bat my sword aside. His desperate knee-bend to deflect was the most intense move I'd seen from him... but.

I felt no pride, just hollow defeat as I stared at him.

I swore it connected.

"Kid. You..."

MacKellin's face hardened suddenly as he eyed me. The other paladins grew serious too, murmuring among themselves. From what I caught, they were saying my clash was "pretty good..." or something.

"You were really trying to win, huh? Unbelievable. Alright, Raoul—let me break down that move."

"Ah... yes!"

"First off, bold and fluid—nice. But aiming for the opening with that reverse arc transition halves your power and blurs the impact point. Training'll fix it, but... know it's a straight gamble. Keep up the mind games, and opponents will anticipate, countering with quick thrusts... wait."

MacKellin trailed off mid-explanation.

"Damn. He's not a paladin. What the hell am I even saying?"

He scratched his head and wrapped up with a casual summary.

I was listening properly. Why stop...?

"Anyway. Against a simple foe, they'd block the first strike, collapse on the feint..."

He mimed slitting his throat.

"...and hand you their neck. Whoops—too graphic?"

"It's fine!"

His style was a bit rougher than traditional paladins. Blunt as hell.

Anyway... I'd been deflated, but praise makes even whales dance, they say. Getting props from a senior paladin? Not bad at all. Hell, it felt great.

Like learning basketball for the first time. That drive to psych out opponents and gain the edge. If skill fell short, sprinkle chili powder—whatever it took. Innate cunning.

Of course, I knew those street tricks had limits. Got wrecked by a kid with real basics in middle school first year. And he was a year younger... an elementary schooler, basically.

But now? A legit expert to refine my scrappy style. A senior paladin, no less.

From then on, I dashed to the cathedral every morning with my wooden sword. MacKellin seemed hooked after that spar, teaching with enthusiasm. He'd even pester me during breaks about tagging along to the capital.

I took his increasingly harsh breakdowns in stride, even asking questions, so he dove into the theory. It built the foundation for my basics.

Sweating buckets, roughhousing with the guys...

...not half bad?

.........

"No sex."

"Pardon...?"

"I don't feel like it right now. Training wipes me out."

"Um, devotee... what do you mean...?"

Night at the nunnery. Bereani and Olivia, chatting in my room, went pale at my blunt declaration.

It had slipped out. I'd played the good boy to spare the nuns' feelings, but this was straight-up rejection.

What could they do if I said no? People need rest when tired. Especially with endorphins buzzing all day.

Thing is, my sex sessions had dried up, so they'd come probing gently if something was wrong. I brushed off their cute, clingy pleas with "I'll think about it..." and sent them off.

Alone again, I flopped exhausted onto the bed, lost in thought.

Saintess ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠has been here over a week... Won't stay a full month, probably.

"Divine power..."

The big goal for targeting the saintess: divine power. Mulling my original plan, I started down a path I'd never imagined.

Is divine power that crucial? Was I just trying to cheat life?

Honestly? Yeah. With hypnosis, I could score beauties anytime with some compromise.

But this fulfillment from swinging a sword, growing bit by bit... when else would I feel it?

After my trash previous life, this was priceless.

"Maybe this wooden sword is the other value and happiness I've found?"

The thought hit, and I held the sword overhead, gazing at it intently. Trick of the light, maybe, but the tip seemed to glow.

.........

.........

"Maybe this wooden sword is the other value and happiness I've found?"

"...and he's saying that. Luis."

Kasia brushed back her blue bob, smirking wryly.

What the hell is he even doing...?

Swinging a sword? Boring as hell.

Hey, but... MacKellin surprisingly looks after him well at the end... Isn't this scene kinda nice? The chemistry—Raoul grumbling like usual, then getting hurt... a bit like a tsundere vibe...}

Someone shut her up!

In the massive dormitory for lower goddesses, the lobby on the first floor had them clustered around the space mirror showing Raoul, tossing barbs left and right.

"...How was I supposed to know it'd turn out like this? B-better this way, actually. Everyone focuses on work, results go up."

"Oh, Luis. We all know about the pile of clips in your room. Drop the innocent act. Ah, copied some for myself while I was at it."

"W-why'd you barge in!!!"

Kasia and Luis bickered cutely for a moment, but the horde of goddesses swarmed Luis, badgering her to do something. She hemmed and hawed, reluctant to commit.

Frankly, telling her proxy "hurry up and fuck!" in person felt beneath her dignity as a goddess. Even if he was her representative... did she really need to stoop this low?

Thus, she endured the mad, lust-filled glares from her peers, sinking into doubt.

"First he ignores goddesses, now he forgets his duty... Your proxy's getting too cocky, right Luis?"

"Maribi..."

Maribi approached, her brown wavy long hair swaying, and began whispering something to Luis.