Chapter 22
I really like dragons.
Not Western-style dragons, but Eastern-style dragons.
There are many differences between the two, like their appearances and abilities, but one of them is how they’re born.
Dragons are born as hatchlings and are already the strongest species, whereas an Eastern dragon’s beginning is just a snake.
That snake lives for 500 years and becomes an imugi, then cultivates for another 500 years. If it holds a yeouiju in its mouth and ascends to the heavens, it finally becomes a dragon.
Isn’t that cool? To start as a lowly being and become something noble in the end.
That’s why I’ve always loved collecting legends about dragons and the like, and I kept doing so even after being reincarnated in this world.
And the sword technique I created by swinging my sword in pursuit of such dragons was Form Twelve.
You could call it my ultimate technique.
“Haaah!”
-CLANG!
“Ha! For something you said would end quickly, that’s pretty weak!”
Of course. Because...
-KAGAGAGANG!
“Guh?! What is this...?!”
Form Twelve is... a series of consecutive strikes.
Just as an imugi becomes a dragon after cultivating for 500 years, this sword technique grows stronger the longer I keep chaining attacks.
I’d never even shown this technique to Uncle during our sparring matches before, so he probably doesn’t know about it, either.
Besides, the scary thing about Form Twelve is that its power keeps increasing.
In theory, if I kept chaining attacks for an entire week, wouldn’t its power reach Grandmaster level?
Of course, the strain would grow as its power increased, so I couldn’t go that far...
Even without going that far, its power increases at a terrifying rate.
“How about that! My ultimate move!”
“Grrk! It’s definitely powerful, but if I keep defending, it’ll break through!”
Yeah. If I keep chaining attacks, I’ll win.
The problem is...
-SQUEEEEE!!!
Uncle wasn’t just going to sit there and let it happen.
Uncle’s sword slipped between my attacks, making a tremendous screech.
“Tch!”
“Not so fast!”
I tried to keep up my attacks without stopping, but in the end, Uncle’s sword broke through my guard.
“...!”
I managed to block, but my chain had already been interrupted.
-CLANG!
“...I lose.”
As my sword was knocked away, Uncle pointed his sword at my throat.
...Sigh. I lost again.
“Good work. You were really strong.”
“Hmph. Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not! That last technique in particular startled me. When did you learn something like that?”
“Heh. It’s a secret.”
“Tsk.”
Uncle swallowed, looking disappointed. He really was asking seriously?!
“Well, anyway, good job. Head back to your seat.”
“Okay~”
When I stepped down from the sparring ground, the students stared at me with dazed expressions.
Ah... Come to think of it, did I just show them what it looked like for a student to fight more or less evenly with a Swordmaster?
And talk comfortably with that Swordmaster, too?
...Yeah. I can see why they’re staring like that.
By modern standards, it’d be like a five-year-old having a conversation on equal terms with a top-tier scientist, and the two of them being completely at ease with each other.
...What kind of ridiculous scenario is that?
“El! That was amazing! I knew you were strong, but I never imagined you were that strong!”
“Whoa?! Wait...!”
As I was bewildered by my own absurd analogy, Arin came over and hugged me.
...With her chest. From the front. While jumping.
And the result?
“I want to get that strong, too!”
“Mmph?!”
My face was buried in a huge, soft pair of watermelons.
She was squeezing so hard I could barely breathe.
Still, if I died buried in breasts like these, maybe it’d be a good death?
...No, wait. I won’t die just because I’m a little short of breath.
“...Uh, what exactly is going on here?”
“Ah! You! Weren’t you taken to the infirmary?”
“I got treated and came back. ...So why are all the other students staring at El with those dazed expressions, and why is El being smothered by your chest?”
...Now that he puts it that way, I guess I’d be curious about what was going on, too.
If you came back from the infirmary and the atmosphere in class had gotten weird, you’d be curious, right? ...Though for some reason, Ian seems more curious about the latter.
“Hmph! I’m not telling you. Bleh.”
“...You little...”
As usual, Arin teased Ian, and Ian got riled up.
It was kind of fun watching their little skit while nestled in Arin’s arms.
It was childish, but entertaining. Maybe it was also because Arin’s embrace was so cozy.
“Ahem. Everyone, pay attention! I’m going to go over the problems I noticed during your sparring matches!”
Uncle shouted loudly.
Then he pointed out each student’s issues one by one.
“First, Ian. When you swing your sword...”
“Arin, was it? When you use your shield...”
The surprising part was how accurate and objective his evaluations were.
I thought Uncle would give everyone some halfhearted pointers.
The way he accurately pinpointed each person’s problems and explained how to fix them really made him seem like a teacher. A very competent one, too.
“And El! You... Work on refining that last technique a little more. That’s all.”
...Take that back. He really was halfhearted with me.
When I stared at him with dead eyes, Uncle discreetly avoided my gaze. That old man, seriously.
“That’s all for today’s class. See you all next time!”
Uncle said that and left the classroom.
He seemed to be putting on a bit of a dignified teacher act, at least... though I didn’t see why he needed to, from my perspective.
He’d probably be more popular if he just acted like his usual uncle-like self.
“El! Let’s go to the snack bar!”
“The snack bar?”
“Yes!“
Of course, this is a fan-ta-sy world, so naturally there are snack bars.
They even have modern showers, so there’s no way they wouldn’t have a snack bar.
“Sure. Let’s go.”
“Yay!”
Arin sprang to her feet and clung to my arm, so excited she couldn’t contain herself.
Since I was so much taller, it felt like a cute puppy was clinging to my arm.
Of course, she was a lot softer than a puppy, and I could feel her pressing against my arm.
“Let’s go together.”
As I enjoyed the sensation against my arm, Ian linked arms with me on the other side and said, “Let’s go together.”
...Huh?
“Ah! Ian! What do you think you’re doing?! Are you a pervert?!”
“A pervert?! We’re just holding arms as friends, aren’t we?”
“What lunatic links arms with a friend of the opposite sex?!”
Yeah. Even though I’m an antisocial loser who’s never dated, I know this is weird.
But... it’s warmer than I expected. Maybe I like it?
It feels firm, too, which is kind of reassuring.
“El! Say something!”
“Well... I don’t mind... Ah.”
“See? El says it’s fine.”
Ian said that and linked arms with me even more tightly.
Mm... It’s nice and warm, but... I was going to turn him down.
But my mouth went and said it was fine.
And now it’d be awkward to refuse...
Can’t be helped. I guess we’ll have to go like this.
“Ah!”
With Arin’s now-trademark “Ah!” ringing in our ears, we headed to the snack bar.
…
Luke Jegen Daishin, Commander of the Imperial Knights and a Swordmaster.
He was going over the sparring match from earlier in his mind.
Flia, the daughter of his close friend Flien.
As another Swordmaster, he hadn’t thought he’d let his guard down, but he’d been genuinely surprised when he saw her final technique.
A technique that grew exponentially more powerful the longer she chained attacks.
Of course, there were plenty of techniques that grew stronger with consecutive attacks.
But none that grew stronger so powerfully, continuously, and relentlessly.
It was just a hunch, but unless you dealt with it quickly, its power seemed like it might rise to infinity.
“Good grief. When did she grow up so much?”
She’d been a little kid the first time he’d seen her.
When he first met Flia, she had reached the realm of a Swordmaster, but her overall control was still unrefined.
Her Aura Blade and her use of ‘Spirit Authority.’
But looking at her now, he couldn’t sense any trace of that.
Perhaps her basic mana control was already better than his.
His techniques were still superior for now, but it seemed like she’d surpass him soon, too.
Truly overwhelming talent.
“Man, I’m jealous.”
He’d been called a prodigy himself, but he couldn’t even compare.
“Still, I can’t lose just yet. I’ve got an adult’s pride to uphold.”
I should train some more today. Thinking that, Luke continued reviewing their match.
…
Hmm...
“El! Let’s eat this!”
“No. This one’s better.”
It was a line that reminded me of the clothes shop incident from a while back.
The difference was that this time, it wasn’t clothes but snacks.
“These macarons are super sweet! They taste amazing!”
“They are sweet, but they’re way too sweet. At that point, they’re practically bitter.”
“Ah?! Is something wrong with your sense of taste?!”
What Arin held out was a pink macaron. If you’re wondering why there are macarons in medieval times, the answer is: it’s a fan-ta-sy world.
“Anyway, El, let’s have this together. Sausage bread.”
Same reason there’s sausage bread.
“You need to eat something sweet so your brain works better!”
“You need something filling and tasty so you can move around better later.”
Wait a second. This pattern feels familiar.
The next thing they’re going to say is...
“El! Which do you prefer?”
“El! Which one do you like?”
...Yeah. I knew it would happen.
But this time, I can answer without hesitation.
“Sausage bread.”
“Ah?!”
“Hmph.”
Arin despaired with her signature catchphrase.
Ian, meanwhile, laughed at her.
“Why?! Why would you reject something this delicious?!”
“Well, because...”
It’s seriously way too sweet.