Months have slipped by since I first tumbled into this world.
By now, I've mostly found my footing, spending my days—as usual—tailing after Wright.
The mornings start far too early. Wright hauls me out of bed at an hour when even the birds are still tucked away in their nests, forcing me to lap the castle town. I'm nowhere near as effortless as he is, but I've finally reached a point where I can actually finish the run without collapsing.
"Hah… hah… Water… I need… water…"
Well, I suppose the fact that I still have the breath to complain is a sign of progress.
Of course, that feeling of accomplishment shrivels the moment I look at the guy standing in front of me. He isn't even winded.
Wright lets out a hearty, obnoxious laugh. "Hahaha! Look at you! You've actually built up some decent stamina, haven't you, Issei?"
"I've been forced to run like this every single day," I wheeze, my legs trembling as I drag myself toward the fountain. "I'd be crying if I hadn't made any progress…"
I look like a newborn fawn trying to walk for the first time. Even the simple act of getting a drink of water feels like a marathon.
But Wright has no mercy.
"Alright! No rest for the wicked. Time for swordsmanship practice!"
"Are you a literal demon?! Look at me! I'm shaking like a leaf! How can you say that with a straight face?"
As always, Wright is a total Spartan.
"RAAAAAUGH!"
Wooden sword in hand, I charge at Wright.
After the morning run, I'm usually folded into the national knights' training drills. As a "guest" of the kingdom, I'm not actually required to do any of this. In fact, the regular knights usually just watch me with pitying grins.
"Oho, look at him go. He's really giving it his all."
"Issei's got guts, I'll give 'em that. But man, Wright really doesn't hold back, does he?"
They aren't wrong. The only reason I'm even doing this is because of something I stupidly said when I first arrived.
"I've got so much free time while I'm stuck here… isn't there something I could be doing?"
That was the beginning of the end.
My goals in this world are simple: find a way back home and survive in the meantime. The former is out of my hands; I have to wait for "Old Man" Maurice and his researchers to dig through ancient texts. As for the latter, the Kingdom of Audelia has been incredibly generous, providing for my every need.
In exchange, all they ask is that I tell them stories about my world. Apparently, my mundane life back home is fascinating stuff to the people here.
When the topic of how to spend my idle hours came up, Wright suggested I train with him. I figured it'd be interesting to see how a "Hero" actually trains, and I thought it might be a decent way to kill time. I agreed with a light heart.
I was an idiot.
"Too slow!"
Wright's practice sword whistled through the air, the wooden tip grazing my hair. I swear I felt a few strands get clipped.
"Watch it! That was dangerous! Hey, take it easy on me, I'm a beginner!"
"You've been at it for months," he taunts, beckoning me with a smirk. "You're past the beginner stage. Come on, Issei! See if you can land a single hit on me!"
"Gugugu…!"
That bastard. Every single word out of his mouth is a provocation. It pisses me off.
And that is exactly why I haven't quit. I refuse to stop until I've wiped that smug look off his face.
"I'm landing one today if it's the last thing I do!"
I swing wildly, trying to incorporate the forms I've been taught. I throw everything I have at him, but Wright dodges with a bored expression, his movements fluid and effortless.
Damn it! I knew the gap was wide, but a few months of training isn't enough for an amateur to even touch a Hero. Finesse isn't working. Technique isn't working.
If that's the case—
"THEN I'LL JUST USE PURE VIBES! TAKE THIS!"
"That's just a tackle! But hey, I like the spirit! You finally get it, Issei!"
Abandoning all form, I lunged at him with a full-power swing.
A short while later.
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