Loose Collars
After that night of unrestrained, carnal frenzy, several more days slipped by. Our daily routine had settled into a strange kind of balance. At night we tore into each other’s bodies like beasts, chasing pleasure all the way to its filthy depths. By day, as if none of it had happened, we continued the brutal Spartan-style training in the backyard.
“Master, your footsteps are way too loud. Silas’s Shadow Steps technique is all about using mana to erase your presence, but someone like you—with ridiculously high stats and zero finesse—will just trip over the recoil if you try to follow the textbook version.”
Elara’s sharp criticism cut through the air as she glared at my sweat-drenched form. The sultry, whore-like gaze she wore at night was gone. In its place was the cold, razor-edged stare of a Silver-rank rogue.
“Then what the hell do you want me to do? I can’t even feel the mana flow from my lower dantian.”
“Exactly. So stop trying to do it the proper way.”
Elara stepped right up to me and demonstrated herself. Her foot seemed to glide across the ground, then twisted in a grotesque angle and slipped straight into my blind spot.
“See that? Don’t try to completely erase your presence with mana. Instead, use that overwhelming brute strength of yours to forcibly wrench your ankle angle. If the orthodox Shadow Steps is like seeping in ‘like the wind,’ then the combat-modified version I created is more like violently punching through ‘mud.’ It burns a lot of stamina, but with the Ogre tattoo engraved on your body and the Substitute Doll’s shock absorption, you should be able to handle it just fine.”
Her explanation was spot on. Silas’s authentic technique was like an ill-fitting suit on someone with my pathetic foundation. But the irregular version Elara had reworked by combining her own experience with my freakish specs—the Ogre tattoo—began soaking into my body like a sponge.
The Troll Heart Substitute Doll I’d obtained on Grum’s advice wasn’t just a one-time consumable. As long as the damage wasn’t instantly fatal, it moved like semi-permanent liquid metal, organically protecting my flesh from destruction. A true miracle artifact.
“Huu…”
I closed my eyes and recalled the sensation Elara had taught me. I threw out all thoughts of delicate mana control and focused only on raw muscle power and the Ogre’s elasticity into my ankles.
Thud—!
The moment I kicked off the ground, I forcibly twisted the trajectory of my leaping body using nothing but ankle strength. A sickening crack of bone rang out, but the Substitute Doll’s cushioning and the Ogre’s vicious regeneration instantly erased the pain.
“Huh?”
When I opened my eyes, I was already standing in the far corner of the backyard clearing. The movement had been bizarre and crude, but its speed and unpredictability were impossible to track with ordinary dynamic vision.
“Not bad, Master. The form is ugly as hell, but at this level you should be able to slit a mage’s throat before they finish casting, or cut your tail and run when things get dangerous.”
Elara clapped with clear satisfaction as she approached. I exhaled roughly and clenched my fist. On top of my stupidly high stats and Sorcery Stock, I had finally gained proper mobility.
“Good. That’s enough training for today.”
“Already? You still look like you’ve got plenty of stamina left.”
I threw on my coat and grinned. “Time for a live combat test. We can’t keep breathing in dust in the inn’s backyard forever. It’s about time we head to the guild and start making use of our Silver-rank adventurer’s reputation.”
At my words, Elara gave a seductive, sly smile and tightly hooked her arm around mine.
The moment we pushed open the massive oak doors of the Adventurer’s Guild in the heart of the commercial district, we were hit by the thick stench of sweat, blood, and cheap ale. The noisy guild lobby fell into an eerie silence the instant we stepped inside. Dozens of pairs of eyes locked onto us at once.
More precisely, they were crude, sticky gazes aimed at Elara, who was glued to my side.
“Hey, isn’t that bitch Silas’s disciple?”
“Shh, keep your voice down. Didn’t you see what happened a few days ago? Silas beat the shit out of those guys who were spreading rumors.”
“I know, I know… but fuck, the rumors are everywhere. They say she got fucked by an Ogre in the Black Moss Forest and went crazy for monster cock.”
Thanks to Silas’s show of force, no one dared shout openly. But from the table where a group of Iron-rank mercenaries sat, vile and secretive whispers still leaked out. The juicy gossip that the guild’s flower—a beautiful Silver-rank adventurer—had become a monster’s cum-dump was more than enough to stimulate the ugly voyeurism of these bottom-feeding beasts.
Eventually their eyes slid over to me, the one whose arm Elara was clinging to.
“But she looks fine, unlike the rumors. And who the hell is that scrawny stray next to her? Looking at his guild tag, he’s that ‘Stone-rank’ newbie who just registered.”
“Heh heh. Even Lord Silas must be disappointed. His disciple went mad for monsters and is now rolling around with a worthless Stone-rank mutt. She’s basically a Silver-rank whore now.”
They were too afraid of Silas to mock her directly, so they used the cheap tactic of insulting me—the lowest-ranked pushover—to indirectly degrade Elara. As the quiet slander drifted through the air, I felt Elara’s expression freeze into ice beside me. Her hand drifted toward the twin daggers at her waist.
But I lightly caught her wrist and stopped her.
“Hold on. We’ve got training dummies that came over on their own to flap their mouths. Perfect sandbags for practicing the new footwork.”
Elara paused at my words, then slowly licked her red lips with a seductive, cruel smile. The violent beast inside her, tamed by nights of pleasure, seemed to rise to the surface.
“Oh my. Master’s going to clean them up himself? I’m looking forward to it.”
I swept my dry gaze across the mercenaries who were sneering at me. By Earth standards, these were the kind of ugly bastards I wouldn’t even dare make eye contact with. The old me—passive and timid to the bone—would have shrunk away. But in this slaughter-filled world of Shedborax Continent, I had long since learned in my very marrow that being soft meant death.
If I let these pieces of trash keep looking down on Elara and treating her like a whore, the value of my only Silver-rank ally and shield will be ruined. It’s annoying, but I need to thoroughly crush these loudmouths right here and issue a clear warning. Only then can I comfortably use the Silver-rank card called Elara in this shitty world.
I broke the silence in the guild lobby and spoke to them in a cold, heavy voice.
“For a pack of barking mutts, those leashes look awfully loose.”
The mercenaries who had been chuckling froze at my arrogant warning.
“Before you keep running your mouths behind someone’s back and get your heads smashed in, you’d better shut up and watch where you’re looking.”
“What? Has this Stone-rank bastard lost his mind?!”
The enraged mercenaries kicked over their table, drew their weapons, and stood up. According to Elara, as long as no one actually died inside the guild, beating someone half to death was simply blamed on the victim being weak—no one cared.
I cracked my neck left and right, the bones popping loudly. The tattoo engraved on my chest began to throb hotly as it caught the scent of blood, awakening the wildness within me.
The real-world combat test for surviving in this damned Shedborax Continent would begin by ripping the jaws off these pieces of trash.