I shook off Angelica, who wanted to spar with me again, then went over to a corner and squatted down.
If I moved around for no reason, I might end up going on another not-date date with Angelica.
Perhaps the sight of a huge man squatting in a corner looked strange, because a few people stared at me.
"You are not going to spar again?"
Angelica came over and squatted beside me. I could feel the number of people watching us gradually increasing from just those few.
I wanted to tell her to go away, but I could not summon the courage.
She was merely sitting beside me, blank-faced, blinking her red eyes as she looked at me. Yet there was anticipation in those crimson eyes.
She was probably thinking something pointless like, ‘Since he has gotten stronger, maybe he still has the stamina to spar with me again?’
Without a word, I pointed at the broken wooden sword.
At my response, she nodded and did not ask for another spar. She merely stared into space vacantly.
She was certainly looking that way without any expression on her face, but I could tell.
Right now, she wore the expression of someone who had lost the whole world.
Was it really that shocking?
This was driving me crazy.
That sparring monster called Angelica was driving me crazy.
To settle Angelica’s ever-rising urge to fight, I would probably need to spar with her at least once a day.
Still, I did not know how long I could hold out by getting lucky and breaking wooden swords every time.
Thanks to my title, it was nice that I earned plenty of experience until I reached Angelica’s level, but no matter how much I grew, the gap between us showed no intention of narrowing.
And if I let my guard down, it would be a straight trip to a bad ending.
What a headache.
But what else could I do?
If I did not want a bad ending, I had to grit my teeth and grow stronger.
More importantly, just how was I supposed to pass skills on to someone?
In the game, all I had to do was open a skill book and press the ‘Yes’ button on the notification asking whether I wanted to acquire it.
Now that it had become reality, I could acquire a skill just by placing my hand on a skill book.
But I had no idea how passing one on was supposed to work.
Judging by Kafka’s response that she still did not understand even after watching the spar earlier, it did not seem to be something I could do through demonstration...
Hitting Kafka... no, that could not be it.
Could I perhaps need to use a skill book myself... No, that did not seem right either.
I could not get a handle on it at all.
There had to be an answer in the game.
Even though plenty had changed after it became reality, most things still followed the game’s framework.
Let me think back to when I learned skills.
Mulling over the word skill, I sifted through the game screens that had once appeared on the monitor in my memories, one by one.
Had five minutes passed like that?
Could it be that?
After squatting there and thinking for five minutes, I remembered an image from the game’s loading screen whenever you acquired a skill.
An SD version of the protagonist sitting cross-legged and meditating.
I looked at my shadow, where Kafka should be, and sent her a telepathic message.
‘Want to come out?’
‘Is that okay?’
I nodded at her reply.
It was not as though I had any other answer.
It was not like I could use [Mad Orlando] on Kafka.
And using a skill book myself felt a little wrong.
If a demonstration would not work, this was my only option.
My shadow bubbled, and Kafka slowly emerged from within it.
I got the sense that everyone’s attention turned toward us again, perhaps because a large beastkin had jumped out of my shadow, but that was not my problem.
I looked at Kafka and opened my mouth.
"Sit cross-legged."
"What is that?"
Kafka tilted her head as if I were talking nonsense.
Ah, right.
She did not know what sitting cross-legged meant.
#
I explained the cross-legged posture to Kafka, and she sat exactly as I had shown her.
Then—
[Would you like to pass your skills on to your squire? (Y/N)]
A notification window appeared before my eyes, as if declaring that I had found the right answer.
So sitting cross-legged really was the answer.
Relieved that I would not have to beat up Kafka, I let out a sigh and reached for Y.
Then—
The notification window before me split into four.
[———]
[———]
[———]
[———]
There were four empty slots.
And beside them, several more windows appeared containing information on the skills I possessed.
[You may pass up to four skills on to your squire.]
[You may also make your squire forget currently possessed skills. However, a forgotten skill’s proficiency will be reset.]
In short, I could pass four skills on to Kafka.
I could replace them by making her forget skills, but any forgotten skill would have its proficiency reset. Even if she learned it again, it seemed its level would return to one.
I needed to choose carefully.
It would be a problem if I worked hard to raise one to the maximum level, only for a better skill to appear later.
Though I had already decided on the skills.
"Ian, are you almost done?"
Perhaps she was getting impatient. Kafka, who had been staying still, relaxed her cross-legged posture.
At once, the notification windows before my eyes fuzzed with static and shut down.
It seemed skill transfer itself would not work unless she was sitting cross-legged.
"I will be done in a moment, so do not break the pose."
At my words, she resumed her cross-legged posture.
The windows that had shut down in a wash of static returned exactly as they had been before.
First, [Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method] was essential.
When I clicked the status window labeled [Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method] beside me—
[Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method Lv. 1]
The first empty slot was filled.
Next...
I clicked the three other skills I had already chosen, and they filled the remaining empty slots.
[Orlando’s Muscle Cultivation Method Lv. 1]
[Mad Orlando Lv. 1]
[Insight of One Who Has Seen the End Lv. 1]
[Logres Swordsmanship Lv. 1]
I did not have many skills in the first place, and I had already made up my mind, so choosing them was not particularly difficult.
After closing the status windows, I checked her reaction, but—
"Is it over?"
Kafka only tilted her head as if she had no idea what had changed.
And so did I.
I could not really tell if anything had changed.
At least, there was no visible difference before and after receiving the skills.
It was not as though she had suddenly become covered in bulging muscles like me, either.
Unable to find any difference herself, she merely patted and felt over her body.
Then there was only one way to find out.
I fetched another wooden sword from the storage room and tossed it to Kafka.
She caught it with a bewildered expression.
"Try swinging it once."
"I have never swung a sword in my life."
Muttering that, she raised the sword and swung it.
Kafka continued swinging the sword in silence, apparently simply following her instincts.
Yet the paths traced by her blade were precise and properly formed.
It was almost as if—
"[Logres Swordsmanship]?"
Angelica, standing nearby, murmured those words.
That was right.
What Kafka was doing was not merely swinging a sword. It was the [Logres Swordsmanship] I had passed on to her.
More specifically, the Proper Sword Form, which could be called its first form.
And that was not all.
I did not know what she had recalled, but Kafka let out a low growl and furrowed her brow slightly.
From that point onward, the wooden sword began to accelerate. Cutting winds rippled around her, and one after another, marks left by the wooden blade were carved into the floor.
The students stopped what they were doing and stared at Kafka.
Charles in particular had his eyes wide open as he watched her, while Angelica—
"Can this... really... be possible...?"
Her expression had not changed, but her voice was filled with astonishment.
What Kafka was now wielding was a storm of swords born from intense emotion.
Angelica’s secret technique, [Mad Orlando].
It was unfolding in Kafka’s hands.
When the storm of swords dissipated, Kafka simply stared blankly at the wooden sword.
"So this... really works...?"
Then she looked herself over, her tail swishing back and forth.
"And I feel like my body is lighter than before."
She murmured it again, repeatedly clenching and opening her fists.
So the transfer had succeeded.
Somehow, it had ended almost too easily.
I felt oddly complicated, as though I had passed skills on to her with nothing more than a few clicks.
It was convenient and nice for me, of course, since it was just clicking.
But then Angelica suddenly began slowly walking toward Kafka.
Perhaps Angelica’s expressionless approach frightened her.
Kafka swiftly hid behind my back.
It was a little strange to see someone who looked well over one hundred ninety centimeters tall get scared and hide behind a woman just over one hundred seventy centimeters tall.
But I did not think it was strange.
If Angelica approached me like that, I would have done exactly what Kafka did.
But this time she was coming toward me?
What was this?
What was I supposed to do?
Was she angry that I had taught her family’s secret technique to someone else?
No, she had not shown any reaction when I used the secret technique.
If anything, she had seemed to enjoy it.
Angelica came up before me, grabbed my collar with one small hand, and pointed at Kafka with the other.
Kafka flinched as she was singled out.
Angelica looked at me and opened her mouth.
"How did you do that?"
There was neither anger nor denial in her voice.
It held nothing but pure curiosity.
Her red eyes were brimming with wonder.
In contrast, Charles pressed a hand to his forehead and frowned deeply.
Perhaps he had frowned so hard that Iris asked whether he was all right, and even Asdel and Ars—his rivals, one might say—were worried about him.
I could relate.
Karl Kingdom’s secret technique had already become our public property long ago.
And the attendant responsible for leaking that vital technique was simply standing there with bright eyes, without facing a single consequence.
We had stolen Karl Kingdom’s secret technique right out from under them.
If the Emperor found out, he might cheer and throw a festival.
"I think it is an effect of the spirit contract."
I vaguely attributed it to the spirit contract.
I could not exactly explain the system to her.
Angelica placed a hand on her chin and thought for a moment.
"Then was the way you were waving your hands around in the air earlier related to the spirit contract too?"
At her question, I inhaled wrong and began coughing.
She had seen all of that.
I had thought she was blankly staring into space and not looking at anything.
I forced a smile and nodded.
Whether her curiosity had been piqued or she had simply become interested, she went to the storage room, picked up another wooden sword, and returned.
She slowly approached us.
The corner of her mouth was raised just slightly, while anticipation gleamed in her ruby-red eyes.
Fortunately, her gaze was not directed at me. Unfortunately, it was directed at Kafka.
"Kafka, was it? Would you spar with me?"
Just as I thought.
Should I not have demonstrated it in front of the sparring monster?
A chilling sentence, or at least one that could be taken as chilling, came from Angelica’s lips. Hearing it, Kafka flinched in surprise and tucked her swishing tail between her legs.
Her fluffy fur pressed clearly against my shin.
But once Angelica’s radar had locked onto her, it would be hard to escape.
Kafka folded her ears and looked at me pitifully. But with my eyes narrowed into slits, all I could do was give her a thumbs-up.
There was no helping it.
I am sorry, Kafka.
With an expression that said I was being cruel, Kafka was dragged away by Angelica.
I prayed she would hold out for a while.
After all, she was at a higher level than me, and we even had the same main skills.
I harbored a small hope that, for Angelica, it might be like facing a slightly stronger version of me.
Then, whenever it became too much, I could dump the job on Kafka.
But—
That was only wishful thinking.
Kafka tried to hold her own using [Mad Orlando] and [Insight of One Who Has Seen the End], but she could not even last a few exchanges before she was sent flying.
No, she was at a higher level than me.
And she could not even trade a few blows?
Was it because she lacked experience, or because she was scared?
I walked over to the fallen Kafka and checked her condition.
"...Mmm."
She had not fainted. Though she was covered in dust, there did not seem to be any bruises on her.
"I am sorry."
"...No. It is okay."
I apologized for sending her into danger, then took her hand to help her up.
That instant—
"No, it is not right after all."
An emotionless voice came from beside me.
It belonged to Angelica.
For some reason, there was something chilling in her words.
When I heard her say that, my strength drained away, and I stopped trying to pull Kafka to her feet.
When I turned my head, Angelica was merely looking at Kafka and me without expression.
She looked just as she always did, so I thought I must have misheard and tried to help Kafka up again.
"I knew it. I do not think anyone but Ian will do."
If that chilling voice had not reached my ears once again.
I turned my head back.
And Angelica, caught in my gaze, was looking only at me now.
The corners of her mouth were lifted ever so slightly.
Her face was certainly expressionless.
That same expressionless face where she only raised the corners of her mouth a little, as though she were saying she was happy.
But how should I put this?
This time, I could not properly read her expression.
Even though her face was blank, the emotions she always showed were absent now.
The only thing in her expression was an inexplicably sticky, unsettling eeriness.
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