Chapter: 258
The battle resumes once more.
The dynamic is much the same.
The skeleton attacks, and I defend.
The only thing that has changed is the voice of my grandpa echoing in my ears.
[Hey, my girl. Do you remember why skilled fighters all emphasize basics?]
‘Of course! Because you’ve nagged me about it endlessly!’
What everyone calls “the basics” are the foundations necessary to build anything more on top of them.
If you ignore the process of honing those skills and try to construct a building on top, it might look like it’s getting built quickly at first, but soon it’ll come crashing down, resulting in a mess that’s worse than your original effort.
My grandpa drilled this into my head.
The reason why all masters stress the basics is that every time I level up through tricks, he’d never tire of lecturing me about it. How could I forget?
[What we’re dealing with here is a skeleton mimicking Garad… we can just call it Garad for now. Anyway, that dude’s swordsmanship is the pinnacle of those basics.]
Grandpa mentions that Garad’s sword doesn’t have any standout features.
You’d expect me, feeling helpless going up against this thing, to scoff at such nonsense.
But I think I get what Grandpa’s saying.
The skeleton’s strikes are not fast. That flashy quick attack style that Frey uses is nowhere to be found.
But it’s not like the sword is heavy either. The overwhelming intimidation that steals your ability to defend, like I saw with the Alrn Knights, isn’t present here.
So is it fancy? Not at all. Its swordsmanship is unbearably plain and practical.
The same goes for everything else.
Garad’s sword is utterly ordinary.
Yet, it’s strong.
So strong that it feels impossible to break through. It’s always in the right place, making it impossible for me to step forward.
[That guy turned something ordinary into a hero’s weapon and was called the strongest knight of his time. Do you know why?]
‘No clue!’
[While others build upon the foundation, he kept piling up the foundation itself.]
The many renowned swordsmanship styles known to the world can be thought of as one form of architecture.
They could be terrifying skyscrapers.
Or castles where all entrances seem nonexistent.
Labyrinths with no escape routes.
Houses built haphazardly yet strangely sturdy.
But Garad’s sword isn’t a building.
It’s the very foundation.
He piled dirt over and over, creating a hill that rises to a similar height as other buildings.
Instead of constructing a building, Garad built a mountain.
[Do you know what the result of that insane endeavor achieved? He could draw anyone into his battlefield.]
From high atop that mountain, he could see everything.
The weak points of buildings.
The shaky parts of castles.
The map of a maze.
The pillars of a hastily constructed house.
Thus, he could strategize.
Crushing the opponent’s strengths and penetrating their weaknesses, driving the frustrated foe outside, only to crush them under his overwhelming height.
[This is why you felt helpless. A mountain so tall that the summit is hidden instills despair.]
Understanding Grandpa’s explanation wasn’t hard, but it didn’t make my head any lighter.
‘So, what am I supposed to do?!’
What I really needed was guidance on how to take that guy down.
I nearly shouted in frustration at Grandpa’s flattery towards my suffocating opponent, causing him to chuckle.
[If there’s a mountain, you climb it. If you keep climbing quietly, you’ll see the peak someday.]
‘What kind of nonsense is that?!’
Seriously, what the heck?!
No matter how I think about it, it feels like I’m being fed half-baked advice!
In a moment of mental blankness, I shouted, but Grandpa had nothing to respond with. It was as if he had said everything that needed to be said.
Geez! To summarize everything so casually, making my head spin like that!
Grandpa! Are you turning into the pathetic god you serve, repeating everything in a foolish manner!?
If this keeps up, I’ll end up being surrounded by perverts just like him, bursting into laughter all the time!
…Wait. Does that mean my surroundings will be filled with pervs?!
No! I can’t accept such a horrifying future!
I was so heated up, spouting nonsense, that I momentarily lost focus on the skeleton’s sword.
Hearing the warning bell too late, I raised my shield, but the skeleton wasn’t going to grant me time to ready myself.
Caught in an awkward stance, I was hit squarely by the skeleton’s sword, sending me crashing to the ground.
I tasted blood in my mouth.
“Looks like there’s no time to talk now, huh? Ha! Seeing that little mouth of yours all shut is quite the delight.”
I stood up, hearing the skeleton’s laughter.
Feeling the divine energy surging back after taking that hit, it seemed I had taken quite a blow.
Spitting out the blood pooling in my mouth, I healed myself using Armadi’s assistance. Thanks to Ankhir boosting my divinity, I quickly regained my footing.
“Are you just going to watch? I feel a bit embarrassed being all bare, you know?”
Ignoring its bluster, I mulled over Grandpa’s words, but answers weren’t coming easily.
It’s like asking me, who rarely climbs hills outside of school, to hike up one right now.
“Have you given up?”
The only thought surfacing was from my days getting treated like a slave at work.
That balding pig always saying that if you just look at the ground while walking, you’ll eventually reach the highest point.
It’s the same with the job; just keep your head down and the overtime will end before you know it.
…Wait a minute.
Just a moment.
“This is it.”
Thinking it over, my head suddenly cleared, and a chuckle escaped.
Ha, every time that guy went home spouting nonsense like that, I wanted to smack him down. Who knew it would actually help me now.
“…Hmm?”
As I let out a giggle, the skeleton tilted its head in confusion.
Is it thinking I’ve lost it?
Well, whatever it thinks doesn’t matter.
I focused on the divine energy swirling inside me and tightened my grip on the mace and shield.
“Oho! You’re not giving up? I knew it…”
“Shut it, you castrated skeleton!”
At first, Grandpa told me that there was nothing wrong with my strategy. He would stake his own name on it.
“Did your manhood disappear, making you a male dropout? You sound just like a jabbering auntie!”
If my strategy is right.
If I’m indeed on the right hiking path.
I don’t need to look around as I ascend.
I only need to keep my eyes on the path ahead and move my feet.
“Wanna find a new identity right now? I can lend you a dress! Mind you, nobody would notice with that empty skull of yours!”
If my interpretation is correct, Grandpa’s words ultimately mean I shouldn’t doubt myself.
Just like before. Keep going until it works.
And if I feel lacking, I just need to put more strength into my footfalls.
Trust the path I’ve chosen.
“Hero Garad in a dress, eh? Pfft! That would suit him ridiculously well, wouldn’t it?”
“…Yeah. I guess I was wrong to let you speak at all.”
I’m not sure if my interpretation is right. Maybe I’m not heading toward the peak but a cliff instead.
But so what? If I decide to jump off, Grandpa will yell at me to stop.
Then I can complain that it’s all his fault for not explaining properly.
“Did you just figure it out? Your head may be empty, but the thoughts sure are slow! A castrated idiot? Sneer Poor thing!”
I catch the swing aimed at me with a hiss.
It was time to climb that steep path!
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