Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Karen (2)
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[In the distant past, countless nations dotted the continent. The Mirei Empire, the Kolton Kingdom... However, amid the war between the Evil Gods and the Good Gods, all those nations lost their lineages and collapsed.]
[After the war of the gods ended, the survivors on the continent banded together with those who shared at least minimal common ground. These became the origins of each nation's tribes.]
[The human kingdom of Terra, the beastkin tribal alliance, the elves' great forest, the dwarves' steel fortress...]
"Hmm."
-Rustle. Rustle.
The sound of turning book pages gradually quickened. A deep spark of interest flickered in my eyes as I read the words.
'This is pretty interesting.'
To be honest, I wasn't much of a reader.
Even when I did read, I avoided history books like the plague, sticking to the occasional fantasy novel or mystery thriller.
But the history books of this world felt like reading a game's lore bible, which made them surprisingly enjoyable.
'Elves and dwarves... I've seen beastkin before, though.'
I closed the book detailing the non-human races on the continent and the nations they inhabited, then reached for another.
[Magical beasts, or monsters as they are called, are aberrant lifeforms born from the powers and blood of the gods spilling across the continent during their war...]
[As nations collapsed after the war, mercenaries rose to address various problems, marking the beginnings of the Adventurer's Guild...]
[The nations divided by race soon began vying for territory, but with the resurgence of Evil God cultists, they signed a peace treaty...]
Books on monsters like the goblins I'd fought, on the nature of adventurers, and on the continent's broader history...
It was a great chance to build knowledge I lacked, but I clicked my tongue in disappointment.
'No info on those Evil God cultists or the Black Sacred Objects they use, huh.'
The place I was staying was Riville's library.
Nearly two weeks had passed since arriving in Riville, and I'd visited the library daily to absorb knowledge.
Thanks to that, I'd gathered a solid foundation on this world, but I hadn't found any intel on the Black Sacred Objects I needed.
"Books on the Evil Gods or their cultists are managed by the temples..."
In this world, the Good Gods who drove out the Evil Gods truly existed, as did temples worshiping them.
Beings who wielded 'divine power' straight out of games or novels.
They zealously purged Evil God cultists in service to their deities, so most info I wanted was censored or controlled by the temples.
Especially details on the 'Black Sacred Objects' that directly channeled those Evil Gods' powers.
"Well, no issues in two weeks, so..."
No bodily problems had arisen in the past two weeks; if anything, my health was better than ever. By now, I'd loosened up a bit.
Still, I'd keep investigating related info just in case, but at least I didn't seem doomed to a timer or sudden madness.
'Ah, time already.'
I glanced at the clock inside the nobles'-built library, hurriedly packed my books, and dashed outside.
The library charged 50 coppers per entry, so I wanted to milk it for all it was worth... but no helping it.
"I'm late!"
"Sorry, Master."
I'd bolted from the library in a rush and headed to the dojo where Karen—my master for the past two weeks—waited.
It was called a dojo, but with me as her only student and her living there, it was basically just her house.
Karen greeted me there and, the moment I entered, tossed me a wooden sword.
I caught it without hesitation and charged at her without pause.
-Whoosh!!
"You've mastered the proper grip now."
Seeing me come at her, Karen didn't flinch. She casually raised her own wooden sword and parried mine.
As she said, no longer gripping haphazardly, I'd learned the correct hold that eased wrist strain. I swung without reply.
Changing directions to mask my target, not swinging with arm strength alone but incorporating my shoulder and full body weight for maximum power.
-Clack!!
A ferocious clash echoed, unbelievable for wooden swords. Karen smiled in satisfaction and smoothly deflected my blade.
"Much better. But...!"
In an instant, she relaxed her strength and pulled, dragging my sword—and my balance—with it.
I desperately stepped forward to steady myself, but lightning-fast, her kick swept my ankle.
-Thud!!
"Gah!"
I toppled completely. Grinning, Karen prodded my head with her sword's tip.
"Mm. Footwork's still awkward. I told you not to focus only on the sword—mind your feet too."
"Urgh...!"
Clutching my nose where a trickle of blood flowed, I staggered up and grumbled a bit.
"Couldn't you go easy sometimes?"
"Mm. Like I said before, physical contact's a bit..."
I shook my head at her cheeky response, then removed my hand from my nose.
In that brief chat, the bleeding had already stopped.
"You're really not beastkin?"
"I told you, no."
Karen eyed me curiously, doubting my race again, but I could only insist I was human.
Training under her for two weeks, I'd discovered another perk of my changed body.
My recovery speed was several times faster than a normal person's.
Not instant regen for major wounds, but minor scrapes healed in under a day.
On day one, seeing my talent, she'd been impressed with a glint of greed—then flipped out even more at this.
"Heavens! Recovery like this...! So that's the secret to your honed body? Perfect—no matter how hard I train... er, drill you!"
'Did she just say "roll" you?'
Ever since, this was the routine.
The first day's proper sword forms had shifted to practical sparring, embedding techniques through combat.
My body ached plenty...
'But in just two weeks, I've improved dramatically.'
Her initial vibe had me questioning my choice, but after two weeks, I knew coming here was right.
Two weeks is absurdly short for a total novice to learn combat.
Yet I'd shed the newbie aura.
"Anyone seeing you now would buy that you've trained basics for a year."
Karen assessed me as having solidly mastered what an average person gains in a year.
Credit to her stellar teaching...
"Seriously... the more I see it, the more tantalizing your talent."
...and my transformed body's exceptional aptitude, beyond expectations.
"That good?"
"Sword-handling alone? Decent prodigy level. But body movement, senses? Outstanding."
Having heard "outstanding talent" nonstop for two weeks, I asked, still a bit dazed.
"It's like... less 'talent,' more 'feral instinct'?"
She likened it to a wild beast's— a predator's sharp hunting sense and savage bite.
'Well, ignoring the shady origin, it's a good talent.'
Who hates hearing they're talented?
Combined with her coaching, my skills surged daily—pure joy.
Pockets full, proper sword training skyrocketing my prowess, studying this world fun.
A life lacking nothing.
Far richer than scraping by day-to-day before.
But even this perfect life had one snag.
"Alright. Short break."
Vigorously thrashing me, Karen fetched a towel and delicately wiped her sweat.
I'd been one-sidedly pummeled without touching her; she'd barely moved, subduing me efficiently.
Yet her face flushed oddly, sweat plentiful.
That could've been a sweaty constitution...
'Eek.'
I averted my eyes hastily.
Then came the slow sounds of her toweling off from behind.
'Why's she wiping sweat so slowly for so long?'
Normally, you'd dab enough to stop drips, then shower later.
But Karen wiped like polishing fine porcelain—focused, gentle, agonizingly slow.
'Hates skin contact... germaphobe?'
Nah, fine so far. Just drying sweat.
The problem was...
-Fwip♥
"Guh."
Thinking it ended, I glanced back—saw jiggling mounds, deflated with a hiss, whipped away.
But the scene replayed in my mind.
'Damn. Nowhere safe to look...'
Day one, her skimpy outfit teetered on risqué.
For mobility? Her taste? Thin, sexy fabric regardless.
Post-recovery reveal, classes became hands-on sparring... more close contact, tougher on eyes.
Two weeks of this...
'And since my body's changed, urges are stronger.'
As she called it "feral," my beast-like body made suppressing desires harder.
Thus, guarding her defenseless form? Pure torment.
"Whew. Kept you waiting? Let's continue."
Desperately reining impulses, she approached smiling, oblivious.
I lunged fiercer, stance awkward, to purge distractions.
"Oh? Nice! That's the spirit!"
'Not nice!'
.
.
.
.
"Hoo..."
Thoroughly beaten by Karen again, I returned to my inn.
Cleaner than before, better food.
Not cheap—10 silvers weekly, meals extra.
Library fees too... time to adventure again soon.
Anyway, slumping on the bed, I pondered deeply.
'Gotta hit up Laila again tonight...'
Two weeks in Riville.
I'd steadily trained Replication, cloning Laila once more.
Same half-body result. I vented pent-up lust on her clone...
'But hair's almost gone.'
Only three or four strands left.
Couldn't clone without medium; used ones vanished post-clone.
'Damn. Thought splitting one strand would work...'
Tried halving one—failed, wasted it.
Three or four uses max left...
-Clench.
"Ngh...!"
What else? Lust, obviously.
Having tasted her perfect body, surging urges fixated on her image.
But squandering rare clones? No.
Thus...
"...Think it'll work?"
Gripping a long black strand secretly snagged during training, I sank into thought.