Journey — Part 1
"A caravan to Robein City?"
"Yes. We have a shipment that needs to be delivered to the Rogen Merchant Guild as well. Since we are heading the same way, would you care to travel together?"
There was no reason to refuse Baek Musa's proposal. Riding on horseback, Robein City was only a day away, but accompanying wagons loaded with freight stretched the journey to roughly three days. If the merchant guild handled our meals and lodgings for that duration, I could devote all my attention to instructing Sowol.
"Then let us do so."
"Thank you, sir."
Pleased that his offer had been accepted, Baek Musa bowed respectfully and hurried off to oversee the preparations. Watching his broad back recede, I left the merchant guild's estate and made my way toward the local church.
"Move my quarters?"
Resting in the accommodations provided by the church, Serin looked thoroughly exhausted. She had clearly poured an immense amount of effort into purifying and consecrating holy water.
"Yeah. I have quarters prepared at the Eastern Merchant Guild, so I'd like you to stay there for a while."
"Why the sudden change?"
"I just have an uneasy feeling about things."
I shared my suspicions with Serin—namely, the possibility that the evil cult might have set its sights on the Eastern Merchant Guild. After listening quietly for a moment, she gave a light shrug and accepted.
"If that's the reason, I can hardly refuse. Oh, and about the holy water—I should have it completely finished in a few days."
"Good to hear."
"By the way, what do you even intend to use it for?"
"To concoct a strengthening elixir for my disciple."
"My, aren't you devoted?!"
"Of course I am. Disciples of her caliber don't exactly grow on trees."
"Hmm. Is she really that exceptional?"
"You'd better believe she is!"
If I started venting about all the agonizing hardship I went through just trying to find someone with enough talent to become my disciple before Sowol came along, four days and three nights wouldn't be enough to tell the tale.
"If you're that desperate, should I help you look for candidates?"
"Wait, do you have the Exploration Eye too?"
As far as I knew, she didn't possess that particular ability.
When I stared at her in mild surprise, Serin shook her head with a soft chuckle.
"The Church cares for countless orphans, you know. Whenever a child shows promising talent, we bring them into the fold. When you spend time stationed at the central cathedral, reports on promising young prospects cross your desk constantly."
"Oho. Really? Then if you happen upon anyone exceptional, be sure to let me know."
"Understood. You know this won't be free, right?"
She gave a playful wink. I nodded in return. In the end, whatever favor she demanded would merely amount to lending a hand when purging cultists, so there was no reason to refuse.
"Don't worry about that."
With the vast reach of an organization like the Church aiding the search, the odds of discovering peerless talent would increase exponentially compared to hunting alone.
Having Serin and the paladins temporarily relocate to the Eastern Merchant Guild proceeded smoothly without friction, thanks to having worked out the arrangements in advance. While a few paladins occasionally attempted to proselytize to the guild's secular staff, having them stationed on the grounds prevented useless trouble from cropping up, making such minor eccentricities easy enough to overlook with a laugh.
"Master, it is almost time to depart."
Tearing my gaze away from Serin and her paladins preaching to the guards, I turned around.
Four massive wagons stood loaded to the brim with trade goods. As the escort warriors took their defensive positions around the perimeter, I stepped up onto the nearest wagon and sat on the edge.
"Shall I walk, Master?" Sowol asked.
"No, you sit as well. Spend the journey meditating atop the wagon."
"It might be difficult to concentrate with the rattling..."
"Learning to maintain your focus under any condition is just as important."
If she couldn't slip into a state of total selflessness atop a swaying wagon, how could she ever expect to reach that state amidst the chaos and bloodshed of real combat? That was why unwavering concentration was paramount.
Without another word of complaint, Sowol sat down and closed her eyes. Just then, Lyla approached, twin daggers and short swords strapped neatly to her belt.
"You seem to be instructing her quite thoroughly, sir."
"Naturally. Oh, and while we're on the road, I intend to instruct you all as well."
"Us too?" a warrior standing nearby asked, his face brightening with surprise and delight.
Indeed. Polishing the Eastern Merchant Guild's warriors now would save me a great deal of trouble later on.
"The first thing I will be teaching you is footwork. I'll demonstrate the fundamental forms that can be applied directly in combat, so commit them to memory."
Hopping down from the wagon, I immediately executed the footwork. Advancing, rotating, retreating, and leaping in fluid succession, every movement left a clean imprint on the earth. The warriors studied the deep footprints left in the dirt before attempting to mirror the sequence one by one.
"Whoa, careful there!"
Naturally, mastering it on the first attempt was out of the question. Still, it was a tremendous footwork style to have in one's arsenal, so I hoped they would persevere through the struggle.
"What is the name of this footwork, sir?"
"Cloud Step. You couldn't buy this technique for all the gold in the world, so learn it well."
It was an ancient evasive footwork style I had recovered from a forgotten ruin over the past year, an art extraordinarily useful in the early to mid-game of the original world. Mastered properly, it allowed one to toy with run-of-the-mill foes effortlessly.
"Ugh, this is far harder than it looks."
"Did you expect it to be easy?"
I snorted at Lyla, who had nearly tripped over her own feet midway through a pivot. Seeing how she failed to grasp it on the first try confirmed that her innate aptitude was far beneath Sowol's. Still, watching her pick it up noticeably faster than the other warriors made me think... if all else failed, maybe she could be a potential candidate...
"Huh? Why are you staring at me like that, sir?"
"Just thinking you're quite proficient for your age. How about having a spar with Sowol later?"
"With the young lady?" Lyla glanced toward Sowol, who was deep in meditation, and hastily waved her hands. "Come on... How could I possibly cross blades with the young lady..."
"Consider it a test of her practical abilities. Let's have a bout this evening."
"Haaah... Very well."
With Lyla finally consenting and heading back to practice her steps, I climbed back onto the wagon. Since the escort marched alongside while drilling their footwork, our traveling pace was leisurely.
Looking down at Sowol, who was meditating atop the relatively steady wagon bed, I spoke softly.
"You heard that, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"You're not concentrating, are you?"
"Ugh. It's not as easy as it sounds."
Giving up, Sowol opened her golden eyes and let out a deflated sigh.
Naturally, it wouldn't be easy. Even so, it was an obstacle she had to overcome.
"Can you do it effortlessly, Master?"
"Something of this level is second nature to me. If emptying your mind and achieving a trance proves too difficult, anchoring your thoughts to a single concept isn't a bad approach."
"A single concept?"
"Right. Focusing on what matters most to you can help steady your mind."
"Is that how you learned, Master?"
"Well... something like that."
In my case, I clung to the singular dream of returning home. With that goal burning in my mind, intense concentration came easily.
Though I wasn't entirely sure how she interpreted my advice, Sowol offered a small, contemplative nod.
"That aside... will I really be able to achieve any meaningful result against Lyla?"
It had been less than a year since Sowol first began properly learning the sword. It was only natural that crossing blades with Lyla, who had trained in martial arts for years, felt intimidating—even if Sowol had already mastered the art of drawing upon mana.
Observing her anxious expression, I reached out and gently stroked her head. By now, she had grown thoroughly accustomed to the gesture, quietly bowing her head to make it easier for me to pat her soft pink hair.
"You don't necessarily have to win. Winning would be wonderful, of course, but as long as you learn something from the clash, that alone holds value."
"Holds value, you say... Then what counts as a truly good result?"
"Winning, obviously."
As I had noted, it wouldn't be simple. While Lyla's latent talent fell short of Sowol's, the years of sweat and discipline she had accumulated meant she still held the upper hand for now.
"...What happens if I win?"
"I'll give you a Praise Sticker."
As expected, nothing served as better motivation. Just look at her—clinching her small fists as pure determination flared in her golden eyes.
"I will win. Without fail."
"Right, right."
While Sowol refocused and resumed her meditation, the wagons rolled steadily forward. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, we had traveled far less distance than anticipated, and the warriors—utterly exhausted from practicing the footwork all day—collapsed onto the grass in heaps.
"Ugh, I'm dying..."
"If we get ambushed in this state, what are we supposed to do?"
Escort warriors accompanied merchant caravans specifically to fend off bandits and roaming beasts. Raising the reasonable concern of how they were supposed to fight when completely spent, their eyes turned toward me in unison.
"If worst comes to worst, I'll step in and fight, so don't fret."
"Bwahaha! Now that's what I like to hear! Time to kick back and rest with an easy mind!"
Look at how thrilled they are. I offered them a wry chuckle before turning to watch the laborers prepare the evening meal over open campfires.
Presently, Lyla, having caught her breath after a short rest, strolled over.
"Are you ready, sir?"
"Yeah, I'm ready. How about you?"
She was just as drained from practicing the footwork as the rest of the warriors. Yet, as if accepting it as a fair handicap, she gave an unconcerned nod.
"I'm fine."
"Good. Sowol! Let's begin!"
Stepping down from the wagon, Sowol walked forward gripping a wooden training sword. Lyla drew her blade partway from its sheath as she watched her approach.
"Begin."
Wuuuung—!
A brilliant, humming resonance erupted as pure white light burst from Sowol's wooden sword. The sight caused Lyla's expression to twist in sheer disbelief.
"Sword Ki?! Young Lady?! How on earth are you wielding Sword Ki...?!"
Thoroughly flustered, Lyla snapped her head in my direction.
I merely offered her a calm, knowing grin.
"Kh...!"
Gritting her teeth, Lyla barely managed to evade Sowol's incoming strike by a hair's breadth.
Watching the duel unfold, I sauntered over to the warriors who were watching with rapt attention and spoke in a low, conspiratorial murmur.
"Care to place a wager on who wins?"
"I never dreamed the young lady could manifest Sword Ki... I'm putting my money on the young lady."
"Me too, on the young lady..."
"I'll bet on Lyla."
The odds were settled in an instant, favoring Sowol at roughly seven to three.
"Where are you placing your wager, Master?"
"Me?"
Watching the wooden sword clash against steel, I shook my head and adopted the most solemn, mysterious air I could muster.
"I'm betting on a draw."
...Though if I ended up being wrong after putting on such a show, I was going to look like a complete fool.
Do me a favor and make it a tie, Sowol!