# 043 Difference in Talent
# 043 Difference in Talent
The Moonlight Sword was a technique premised on counterattacking while drawing a circle in place against an opponent.
Stillness in Motion.
Maintaining one's center in place, drawing a circle as if standing at the very heart of the moon, and deflecting enemies who entered that domain with the sword—that was its core.
No matter how many foes rushed in from all sides, as long as Sharia kept her center properly, she wouldn't collapse.
Just like right now.
Clang!
The sword of the man charging at Sharia went flying skyward.
He had intended to swing his blade at Sharia, but the sword was launched aloft by a slash that traced a diagonal line from below to above.
Those who lose their weapon ordinarily give up.
However, this was the Land of Darkness.
"Take this!!"
The man who lost his sword launched a reckless body charge at Sharia.
Sharia frowned at his sudden action, spun her body to the side, and struck the man's back with the pommel of her sword.
Thwack!
The man rolled gracelessly across the floor.
'Sorry, but I already tried that.'
-Kyaaak, Master! I won—
-Pffft.
-...What kind of person buries their face in someone's chest in that situation.
-What? If I'd driven my sword into your gut just now, you'd be dead! Reflect on that! Even in a swordsmanship match, when you lose your sword, you can go into hand-to-hand combat. Understood?
-I understand....
-You failed to defend, so I will violate you.
-Kyaang...!!
I had deliberately knocked her sword high and then pounced on Sharia.
Every time she died, I infused her with mana with the meaning of 'become stronger,' and through her sparring matches with me, Sharia had physically internalized every possible contingency for how humans in the Land of Darkness fought 'dirty.'
"Khuhuhu, lewd wench who seduces men just by existing! Today I'll show you a damn good time!"
Another man charged at Sharia directly from the front.
A giant of a man, twice her size, raised a greatsword and swung it broadly at Sharia.
"Hmph."
Sharia leaned her body backward and dodged the attack.
"Oohyo...!"
And the man's expression twisted into an indescribably lecherous grin.
Sharia's breasts bounced upward from the motion.
Even I was moved by that overwhelming sense of weight.
'If she loaded mana into those and swung them, you'd probably die if you got hit.'
It was a joke, but Sharia's chest was that incredible.
Her other parts were truly excellent too, but seeing them sway so dynamically like that filled me with nothing short of admiration.
'So you've overcome it, Sharia.'
The sex we'd been having hadn't been for show.
Sharia had managed to release one of the seal spheres that had been suppressing her, and simultaneously, the talent that had lain dormant was exploding like mad.
"Die!!"
"Haaht!"
Sharia avoided another attack from the side by lightly rolling her foot, and swung her sword horizontally to block the man's advance.
Rustle.
Every time she swung her blade, her robe fluttered about.
Beneath the briefly lifted hem of the robe, her large breasts were prominently displayed.
"Ooooh...."
More than one or two spectators sighed in admiration at the sight of Sharia's chest from the sidelines.
Several demonfolk were already ogling Sharia, their mouths watering.
"Not a slave act after all, was it. Could it really just be a concept piece?"
"It hardly seems she's at that level. She's skilled enough to reach the quarterfinals of the main tournament."
"Even so, as eye candy...?"
"Champion. Khuh, I'd like to invite her for a night of fun. Khuhuh."
The revolting gazes poured toward Sharia.
Even beyond my own gaze upon Sharia, lecherous and suggestive stares rained down upon her from all directions.
If one were to ask, 'Is that the sort of thing one does to a person who will be their wife?' the answer would be absolutely not.
What man in the world would like his woman wandering around a place like this in an outfit no different from being half-naked?
Yet, it had to be done.
While many viewed Sharia's gentleness favorably, Sharia also needed to know that there were those who looked upon her with such malice.
'If a woman's breasts shake, men are hardwired to stare at them, no matter who she is. Especially with lecherous eyes. So overcome it. The moment you resolve to use your swordsmanship, you must not be ashamed of being exposed to such gazes.'
The instant she consciously faced and overcame what had been unconscious, Sharia would become even stronger.
Sharia might think she knew plenty about her own breasts, but in truth, she didn't understand at all.
She had no comprehension of why her chest hindered her own strength.
'Ashamed of the jiggling, she unconsciously tried to stop it from moving, and so her swordsmanship wouldn't work.'
Excessively conscious of her shaking breasts, Sharia had been unable to swing her sword properly.
She must have felt shame at the countless male gazes fixed upon her chest.
And that shame, buried in her subconscious, had led her arms to try desperately to still her trembling breasts, which naturally disrupted her sword-swinging posture.
'Not anymore.'
Through my training, Sharia had become fully capable of maintaining her own swordsmanship.
Even if her breasts swayed with every swing of her sword, even if someone other than me saw her shaking chest.
'Growth is inherently founded upon hardship and adversity.'
This was a method that couldn't exactly be called good for Sharia—a shock therapy technique with a particularly harsh bite to it.
'You have to overcome it.'
Only then could Sharia grow further.
"Haaaap!!"
Sharia steadily expanded her territory.
With every single foe she struck down, Sharia's vicinity became littered with those who had lost their swords and fallen.
There were dead men, too.
While Sharia was disarming or disabling them, some who didn't roll out of bounds and held on were stabbed by participants who had joined for the sake of killing; they collapsed, bleeding out.
"Kihihit, hey, Tits! You killed them!"
"...Ridiculous."
Someone started running their mouth, trying to shake Sharia's Composure.
"I didn't kill them. You people killed them."
"That's sophistry!!"
"The sophistry is coming from your side."
Clang, clang—!!
As she had diligently learned, she swung her sword, thoroughly deflecting and blocking the enemies' advances.
Sharia swung her sword with calm and cool precision.
She did not kill.
Because she possessed enough skill to subdue her enemies without killing them.
'It's Sharia's solo stage.'
I felt sorry for those in the D block, but the star of the preliminaries was Sharia.
Not simply because Sharia was a woman, nor because all attention was drawn to her large breasts.
'A Sharia unashamed of her own chest. You can't stop this.'
The reason so many swordsmen charged at Sharia wasn't to slice off her clothes, but because Sharia was the strongest, and they wanted to eliminate a rival.
'Even in preliminaries, first place is remembered by everyone until they enter the main tournament.'
No one could land a single scratch on Sharia.
Those who approached her were disarmed by her even faster sword swings, and those who attempted bodily charges were stopped by kicks to their abdomens.
"Huhaha! Got y—"
Slash.
The man who tried to grab the leg Sharia was about to kick with had his arm severed.
A fountain of blood sprayed everywhere, and the man, desperately clutching his half-dangling hand, screamed.
The one who cut off the man's hand was, naturally, Sharia.
"Where do you think you're touching?"
With an utterly frigid voice, she swung her blade and kicked the man far away.
He immediately fell out of bounds, and the priests of the Sword Demon God rushed over, sprinkling Divine Power upon the man and healing him.
She didn't kill him, but the hand, a swordsman's most vital asset, was wounded.
The gazes of the preliminary participants toward Sharia gradually ceased to be an ocular rape and began to be filled with clear hostility and killing intent.
Preliminary Block D.
Only one person could advance to the main tournament.
"......"
Everyone else began exchanging glances, gauging the situation.
Their goal was singular.
First, they had to gang up on the public enemy, the 'strong one,' and bring her down.
Swarming a single woman together was certainly not a good look, but...
Slash.
Sharia confidently swung her blade and cut down the foes who charged at her.
A few times, the attacks of a female swordswoman who thrust at her with genuine killing intent put her in some danger, but Sharia defeated her enemies without suffering a single injury.
And then.
Peeeeeeeeep—!!
"D Block!! Winner: 'Vorpal Rabbit,' Ria!!"
Whoaaaaa—!!
The spectators roared with cheers at the victory of Sharia, who had confidently survived all by herself.
Vorpal Rabbit.
The Combat Rabbit had proudly inscribed that name upon the list of those advancing to the main tournament and revealed her skill.
* * *
After the battle was over.
"How do you feel about advancing to the main tournament?!"
"Where did you learn swordsmanship?!"
"Just one word about your determination for the main—"
"Calm yourselves."
I approached Sharia's side, lightly scattering mana toward those trying to snag even one more interview from her.
"Confirm things about Ria for yourselves in the arena. Let's go, Ria."
"Yes, um... Master."
I fastened the leash back around Sharia's neck, and Sharia silently followed my lead.
"Teleport."
Rustle.
After shaking off our pursuers with a spatial movement, I locked the door to our inn lodging, which served as a temporary shelter.
Sharia was....
"Master!!"
She was exuberant, jumping—no, literally bouncing up and down.
"I really made it to the main tournament!"
"You did. Congratulations!"
"Um, could you please do that thing just once?!"
"Congratulations, big sis."
"!!!!!"
Sharia embraced me directly against her chest and rejoiced.
Her breasts, still retaining the heat of battle, were moist and muggy, but in their own way, this was truly wonderful.
"No injuries anywhere?"
"No. Thanks to the equipment you gave me, Master, I don't have a single scratch anywhere."
"That's a relief. I thought there might be, but I'm glad there weren't any serious ones."
"Um, Master."
After calming down somewhat, Sharia asked me with a serious face.
"Um, exactly how strong am I right now...?"
"Are you curious about that?"
"Well, of course I am, right? Just a few months ago I was still Bronze Rank...."
"I did make you somewhat strong."
Swordsmanship.
Sex.
And talent.
With those three combined, Sharia had ascended to an incredibly high realm.
"Speaking in terms of Adventurer Rank, you're right on the verge of rising to Platinum Badge."
"......How did I become this strong?"
"I don't know."
The swordsmanship I taught Sharia.
My skill at teaching.
Sparring with me.
Sex with me.
Those factors were things that likely no one in the world could surpass me at. Yet Sharia's growth was inexpressibly fast.
Even taking all of that into account, there was only one conclusion to draw.
"You were just this strong from the very beginning."
There was nothing else to say but that it was talent.
"I thought you were only a genius at sex, but you're a genius at swordsmanship too."