Overlord (WN)-Volume 1 Chapter 65 part5

Hi Guys, I’m feeling much better. Praise to the master Ainz Ooal Gown. And praise Henet for book 12 images.

I’m buying from Kinokuniya but the price is so jacked up.

Thanks for waiting,

Frostfire10

The Capital City of the Kingdom Part 5

Translators: Frostfire10, Skythewood

The rain fell.

It was not a gentle rain. It was a noisy squall that buzzed in one's ear.

The rain fell to the ground and created puddles.The streets of the Royal Capital had not been designed with drainage in mind, particularly the small alleys. In the end, the entire alley became a miniature lake. Splashes of water flew up as raindrops fell upon the water's surface.

—-A world painted grey by the rain. The water sprays kicked up by the wind filled the air with the scent of water.

It was as if the entire capital had been submerged underwater.

Inside that gray world, lived a person.

He lived in a run-down hovel. No, using the word hovel would be giving the location underserved praise.

That building was supported by narrow beams as wide around as a man's forearm. A tatty piece of cloth substituted for a roof, and the edges which draped down served as walls.

The occupant of the miserable shack, was a then young boy.

He was about six years of age. Such a child, lived in a shelter that could not be called a shelter. His limbs were thin, a look could tell you he did not have enough nutrients. The boy lay on a sheet that was thrown away as trash.

If one thought about it, the wooden planks that made the supporting pillar, and the shelter made from rags seemed like something a child would make.

However, the shelter was made by a child. Since the ideas of repelling water and insulation were not considered, it's environment was the same as the outside.

The temperature dropped due to the rain, and it was a matter of fact that one would shiver in the cold.

The boy had been soaked by the frigid rain and was rapidly losing body heat.

The boy's breath proved his existence for an instant, but it immediately disappeared in the cold air.

The boy;s body was shivering, but he had no way to prevent it.

The rags he called cloths could not block out the cold. And his shelter made of rags and was full of holes could not do it either.

Water dripped in from the ceiling, and water puddled up on the floor. Surrounded by the two, there was no meaning for clothes.

However, the cold air seeping into his body felt refreshing to the boy's bruised body. If one looked for the silver lining, that would be it.

In a alley no one traversed, the boy lay down and stared.

Everyone else was naturally in their homes. The only things he could hear were the sound of the rain and his own breathing. There was nothing else in the absence of those sounds, which made him think he was the only person left in the world.

The boy was young, but he understood that he was going to die.

He was not afraid of it because he was young, and did not fully understand the concept of death. In addition, he did not feel that there was any particular reason to continue living.

Those who were rich or had authority strongly feared death. It was natural. There were chances for them to enjoy them. No one would enjoy losing them. Thus they tried to avoid death as much as possible. They used magic and medicine, searched for the knowledge of dragons and made deals with the devil.

However, he had none of those things. His way of life was something similar to avoiding pain.

If he could die, right then and there, without feeling any pain — only the chill of the wind— then death was hardly a bad thing.

He slowly lost the feeling in his rain-soaked body, and his mind began to fade into a blur. He should have found a place to hide from the rain before it fell, but he had run afoul of several thugs and received a vicious beating. It was good enough that he had managed to return here.

What was misfortune?

It was quite common for him to go two days without eating, so that was hardly misfortune. He had neither parents nor anyone to take care of him, and that was how it had always been, so that did not qualify as misery. His tattered clothes and their repulsive stench were a fact of life for him, so that was not a hardship for him. Eating rotten food and drinking dirty water to fill his belly was the only way of life he knew, so it did not count as suffering.

But then, his hovel was sometimes taken by others, or destroyed by those who took pleasure in wrecking it, and he was also beaten up by drunken men so his entire body ached. Was that suffering, then?

But, it was the end.

The misfortune ended here.

Death came without distinction to the fortunate and the unfortunate alike.

—-Yes, Death was absolute.

He closed his eyes.

His body had long since stopped feeling the cold, and now he lacked even the strength to open his eyes.

At that time, there was a strange sound.

The sound of the rain being blocked. In his flickering consciousness, his interest was pulled, and he put energy in her eyelids.

"It" entered the narrow field of his vision.

The boy's rapidly-closing eyes widened.

It was beautiful.

For a moment, he had no idea what it was.

The best description for it would be "gem-like", or "glittering like gold". However, those were the words of those who had seen or had knowledge of such things.

Of course, someone like him who ate discarded, half-rotten food to survive the days could not think of such things.

Yes.

There was only one thing in his mind.

—Like the sun.

That was the most distant, unattainable thing he could imagine. That word appeared in his mind.

The rain had dyed the world grey. The sky was filled with thick, black clouds. Perhaps the sun felt that nobody would notice, and so it had taken a walk and appeared before him.

A thought like that ran through his mind.

"It" reached out a hand to stroke his face. And so—

The boy was originally not a human being.

Nobody had treated the boy as a human being.

But on this day, he became a human being.

■

The capital of the Re-Estize Kingdom. In its centre was the Ro-Lante Castle, which was surrounded by 20 giant 800m in circumference, protective towers.

This room was located within one of those 20 towers.

The lanterns were out in this none-too-spacious room, and there was a bed in there. A young man, somewhere between boyhood and adolescence, lay on the bed.

His blond hair was cropped very short and his skin was tanned and appeared healthy.

Climb.

He possessed only a name, but no surname, and he was a soldier who had been permitted to defend the lady with the title of "Golden"

Climb always woke up early.

He woke up before the sun rose.

When he realised his consciousness had emerged from a faraway world of darkness, his mind cleared up immediately, and his body was almost fully operational. Climb was proud of his ability to sleep and rise quickly.

His eyes opened wide, and an iron will burned within them.

In the pitch black world without light, Climb squirmed his way out of bed. Reacting to his movements, the wood beneath him squeaked.

"Fua" After yawning, Climb spoke in a hoarse voice. "Lights on."

The lamp on the ceiling shed white illumination in response to Climb's command word, lighting up the room's interior. This was a magic item enchanted with the <Continual Light> spell.

This was Climb's room, but it was not special.

One might think that it is natural that light would be created from torches or lamps, but in this place made of stone and with poor ventilation, it was not good to use light that needed combustion. So the initial cost was high, but all the rooms had magical lighting in them.

The room was awash with sunlight, and since the floor and walls were stone, the thin carpet placed upon the stone was almost pitiful. In addition, there was a crudely made wooden bed, and a slightly larger clothes cabinet that seemed big enough to store his wargear. There was a desk with drawers, and then a wooden chair with a thin cushion on its seat. In a corner of the room was a white full plate mail.

That was the level of furniture in his room.

An outsider might consider this austere, but it was more than he deserved, in his opinion.

Regular soldiers would not be allocated individual rooms. They would share double bunks and live in groups. The only other furniture they were assigned besides their beds was a locked wooden chest for storing personal items. One could understand how much Climb was favoured.

The thick blanket on his body—His surroundings were stone and so the temperature of the room was quite low—was pulled off, and Climb rose out of bed.

He opened the dressing cabinet, and took clothes from within.

He looked at the figure in the mirror and adjusted his clothes.

Wearing clothes with the smell of metal, he lastly wore a chain shirt. Normally, he would have donned his armor on top of that, but there was no need to be so formal right now. In its place, he wore a many-pocketed vest and a pair of pants, and then he was dressed. He held a bucket with a cloth in it.

After that, he studied the mirror once more, inspecting himself for anything out of place or any oddities in his personal bearing.

Any mistakes Climb made would be fodder for attacks launched against the "Golden" Princess whom he served. He could not let others see any embarrassing things.

He looked at himself for a bit, nodded in satisfaction, Climb left the room.

His destination was a large hall.

His destination was a hall which occupied an entire floor of the tower.

Usually, this place would be abuzz with heat and activity from the soldiers here. However, it was early, so there was nobody here. The empty room was silent.

The magical lamps lit the training hall brightly.

Within the hall, there were pieces of armor tied to wooden pillars and dummies made of straw, to serve as archery targets. All manner of blunted weapons hung on the wall.

The use of this hall was obvious, it was the training hall for the soldiers.

The Valencia Palace lay within Ro-Lante Keep. So the training area was not outside, and was instead inside. Since there was training that could only be done outside, in such cases, it would be performed in a corner or done outside the palace.

Climb quietly entered the hall, as though wading through the cold air, and began warming up in a corner.

After about half an hour of stretching, Climb's face was an uncommon shade of red. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he exhaled puffs of smoke from his exertions.

Climb wiped his sweat away and then approached the arms racks. He picked up a heavy, blunted practice sword with a freshly blistered and callused hand.

After that, he loaded his pockets with metal slabs.

After being weighed down by several metal slabs, his clothes now weighed as much as a suit of full plate armor. Unenchanted full plate was sturdy, but very heavy, and the joints also restricted one's range of movement. Therefore, Climb should have worn a set of full plate to practice, for realism's sake.

However, Climb did not want to wear a suit of full plate armor just for regular practice. In addition, he knew that the white armor he had been awarded was not suitable for training.

He tightly gripped his sword, which was larger than a greatsword, and adopted a high stance. Then Climb began to swing down, expelling his breath as he did. In the moment before the practice weapon struck the ground, he held it still, keeping it from actually striking the ground, and then brought it back up again as he inhaled. He slowly increased the speed of his swings, his eyes fixed on the air in front of him, his mind focused on his practice.

He repeated these movements more than 200 times.

Climb's face looked as though it could not possibly get any redder, and droplets of sweat flowed down his cheeks. His exhaled breath was hot, as though to vent the accumulated heat inside him.

Climb had been through harsh training as a soldier, but the weight of a greatsword was still quite heavy to him. Controlling the sword's speed to keep it from striking the ground after swinging it down required considerable arm strength.

His breathing got rough, but Climb showed no signs of stopping his swings.

After the 500th repetition, Climb's arms began to cramp up and they felt like they were crying out in pain. The sweat flooded down his face in a deluge. Even so, he did not stop.

Climb realised that he was at his limit. Even so, he did not intend to stop here.

And then—

"—Don't you think it's time to take a break?"

—A third party called out to him. Climb hurriedly turned around to see a male figure enter his field of vision.

There was no better word to describe him than "mighty". Indeed, he was a man who looked like a slab of forged steel. His stony face wrinkled, and the lines thus produced made him look older than his actual age.

His hair was cut short, and rather than refreshing, it gave off more of a dangerous feel.

There was no soldier in the Kingdom who could not recognize him.

"—Gazef-sama."

He was the Kingdom's Warrior-Captain, Gazef Stronoff. He was hailed as the mightiest man in the Kingdom, and a warrior which nobody in the nearby nations could rival.

He wore clothes that seemed easy to move in and looked at Climb.

"You'll be overtraining if you keep it up. There's no point forcing yourself."

Climb lowered his sword, and looked at his arms as they trembled uncontrollably.

"You're right. I might have been overdoing it."

Gazef rounded his shoulders at Climb's expressionless thanks.

"If you really understand, then don't make me keep nagging you about the same old thing."

Climb did not reply.

Gazef shrugged again as Climb bowed in apology. This back and forth had repeated itself between them countless times. While Climb underwent extremely intensive training, Gazef would disapprove.

Under normal circumstances, the two of them would leave things at that and focus on their own training.

However, today was different.

"How about it, Climb. Shall we go a round or two?"

Climb's typically blank expression was thrown into disarray. It was an expression of surprise that asked why. They had met here in the past, but they had never crossed blades. That was an unspoken rule between them.

It was impossible for Gazef to lose, but if it was a tough fight, nobles would turn it into material to attack Gazef. Gazef was a commoner, and had only rose up due to his sword skills, and this upset the nobles.

And if Climb lost, various nobles would push for their relatives to get closer to Renner. Renner was an absolute beauty, and was a princess without a fiance, but highly prized Climb who was not a noble and left her security to him. Many nobles were unhappy with this.

Due to the abovementioned circumstances, they had never sparred with each other.

That being the case, why had Gazef decided to break this unspoken rule?

Climb had no idea if it was because of a good or a bad reason. He was confused and shocked, but he did not express it on his face.

However, the person before Climb was the mightiest warrior in the Kingdom. Though Climb's momentary consternation might have gone unnoticed by an average person, the person before him picked up on it, and replied.

"Recently, I met a really strong warrior—No a knight? I fought him. It was quite a difficult battle and I wanted to train."

A really strong warrior?"

A person who made the Strongest of the Kingdom, Gazef admit as strong. Climb wondered what sort of person that would be.

The Four Knights of the Empire [Heavy Explosion], [Unmoving], [Lightning] and [Fierce Gale]. He thought of them, but if Gazef fought with them it would be a war so he rejected it. Next was a "Certain" person who was like stone, but if it was her then Gazef would say her name.

Gazef understood Climb's confusion. Gazef made a wry smile, and asked Climb.

"Well, don't mind it. I feel like I can't explain it….More importantly how about it?"

Climb glanced at the weapons rack, checked to make sure no one was there, and nodded.

He felt nothing about his question being evaded, and it was extremely difficult to ignore a chance to train with the Strongest in the Kingdom.

"Then, I pray you will exchange a few blows with me."

"Ah."

The two of them went for the weapons cabinet and picked out weapons suited for themselves. Gazef selected a bastard sword, while Climb selected a small shield and a broadsword.

After that, Climb removed the metal slabs from his pockets. It would be terribly disrespectful to wear them while fighting someone stronger than himself. Even if he cannot win, he still should try his best.

After Climb was ready, Gazef asked.

"Are your arms alright? Are they still stiff?"

"Yes, they're fine."

Climb waved his arms. Gazef saw his movements and nodded, knowing that he was not lying.

"Personally I would like you to use a tower shield but…."

"A tower shield? That is a bit….I am sorry."

He deducted that the knight Gazef mentioned earlier most likely used a tower shield. However, Climb did not have the confidence to use such a large shield.

"No, don't mind me. More importantly, if you are done, shall we begin?"

"Eh, please treat me well."

Climb slowly brought his sword down to a low stance, obliquing his body so his left side faced Gazef from behind his shield. The look in Climb's eyes was razor-keen, indicating that he no longer treated this as a training bout. Similarly, Gazef's stance spoke of battle-readiness.

Even if the blade was removed, it was a metal rod. If the location where it hit was bad, one might lose their lives. Training with that could be called a real battle.

The two of them locked eyes, but Climb could not bring himself to make the first move.

It was much easier to move now that he had removed the metal slabs, but still, he did not think he could beat Gazef. The other man was far superior to him in terms of physical ability and experience. If he simply stepped in he would eat a hit.

Then what should he do?

He could only fight with something Gazef did not have.

Climb was his inferior in physical parameters, experience and spirit; all the qualities a warrior required. If there was any way to address this disparity, it would be through their respective armament.

Gazef used a bastard sword. In comparison, Climb was using a broadsword and a small shield. Perhaps if his equipment was enchanted, he might be able to compensate, but these were practice arms, so their weapons were fundamentally the same.

However, Gazef only had one weapon, while Climb had two. While it split his power, there was the merit of the number of attack methods increasing.

—He would deflect a blow with his shield and then strike with his sword. Either that, or use his sword to make an opening and then bash with his shield.

Climb decided on his strategy, which was to take advantage of opportunities to riposte. Then, he carefully studied Gazef's movements.

After several seconds. Gazef chuckled.

"Not coming? Then, maybe I should go to you—Are you ready?"

Gazef raised his sword in a casual manner. He lowered his stance, gathering strength like a coiling spring. Climb too began suffusing his body with might. Then, Gazef stepped forward, swinging his sword at the shield.

—So fast!

Climb immediately abandoned the idea of deflecting that blow. He turned all his energies to defense, in order to endure that hit.

And in the next moment — A startling impact exploded on his shield.

So mighty was the blow that Climb wondered if the shield had splintered. It had been so strong that Climb's shield hand had gone numb. He could not receive it. Climb grunted at his naivete, and then another impact blossomed on his gut.

"Guwaargh!"

Climb's body flew through the air. His back thumped heavily on the stone floor.

Gazef's legs strongly hit Climb's stomach.

"….You focused on my hands because I was only holding a sword. That's not good. You might end up taking a kick like just now. While I aimed for your belly just now, even with a cup, being kicked in the groin with a metal boot might break something if you're unlucky, no? You need to keep an eye on your opponent's entire body and study his every move."

"….Yes."

Climb slowly rose to his feet, gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain coming from his belly. If Gazef had been serious, he could have easily broken Climb's ribs through his chain shirt or otherwise left him unable to fight. However, the reason that did not happen was as he was not kicked with full force, and the force used was just enough to send him flying.

Climb raised his sword again, his heart brimming with gratitude.

Just how precious was the time to train with the Strongest in the Kingdom.

Climb covered himself up with his shield again. He inched towards Gazef, who studied Climb in silence. If this kept up, he would only be make the same old mistakes again. As Climb closed in, he was forced to reconsider his tactics.

The Strongest Warrior of the Kingdom, Gazef Stronoff. He knew their physical abilities were different, but Gazef's overshot his imagination. He was very naive to believe that he could land a hit with a shield.

Gazef placidly awaited his oncoming foe, a look of fearsome calm on his face. It would seem Climb could not force Gazef to use the full measure of his abilities.

However, that was—frustrating.

Was this frustration a feeling born from arrogance?

It was true that facing a strong man like Gazef, Climb's thoughts were absurd. Compared to the soldiers in the Kingdom, Climb was one of the strong. But he was only at the level where he was slightly better than a warrior Gazef led, or an adventurer that could not reach B Rank.

Climb was nearing his limit. Though he woke early to practice every day, he had not progressed. It was at that level.

It would be terribly rude for someone like Climb to grumble about not being able to force a gifted individual to use his true abilities. Rather, he should blame his own lack of talent for not being able to make his opponent go all-out.

However—Climb nashed his teeth together.

The belief in his chest. There was only one reason for it.

"Hoh," Gazef exhaled, and the expression on his face changed somewhat.

That was because the young man before him had a different look on his own face. Until just now, he looked like a starstruck lad, eager and nervous. But with a simple kick, that annoying mood was gone, and now he looked like a proper warrior.

Gazef raised his alertness level by a notch.

Even so—

"—Even if your spirit changed, the gap between our abilities is quite clear. Now, what will you do?"

To be honest, Climb had no talent. No matter how hard he tried—No matter how much he pushed his body, if he had no talent he could not reach the top. Gazef and the strongest opponent he faced, Brain Unglaus. Climb could not become one of them.

Even if he wanted to be stronger than anyone, it was outside the realm of possibility.

"Will is more important than the body. That is a lie."

Gazef had not seen such a person. Someone who could have a will stronger than their body. He had seen cases of extreme strength in fires, and the release of limiters, but not will surpassing the flesh.

So he had to do something.

Why did he train with Climb.

The answer was simple enough; Gazef could not overlook Climb's unwavering diligence, however useless it was. If every man had their own personal limits, then one could say that Gazef pitied the fact that Climb hurled himself bodily against the wall of his own limits.

Therefore, he wanted to teach Climb something else.

He felt that there was a limit to one's abilities, but not limit to one's experience.

"—Come at me, Climb."

He received a strident answer to his self-directed mumbling.

"Yes!"

Climb dashed forward.

Unlike just now, Gazef's expression was stern as he raised his sword into a high stance.

He would hack down from above.

If Climb blocked with his shield, he would be stopped in his tracks. If he blocked it with his sword, his weapon would be knocked away. That attack essentially made his defense meaningless. Blocking it was a poor move, but Climb was using a broadsword, which was shorter compared to Gazef's bastard sword.

All he could do was rush into Gazef's reach. Gazef knew this and squared himself to meet the charge.

It was like running into a tiger's maw — but Climb only hesitated for a moment.

He plunged into the attack range of Gazef's sword.

Gazef was waiting for him, and when he swung down, Climb blocked it with his shield. The awesome impact was greater than the one he had felt just now. Climb grimaced as pain worked its way down his arm.

"What a shame. To think history would repeat itself."

There was some disappointment on Gazef's face as he aimed his foot at Climb's belly, and then—

[Fortress!]

The look on Gazef's face changed to one of shock as he heard Climb shout.

The martial art Fortress did not require a shield or sword to be used. If desired, one could activate it with one's armor or even bare hands. Of course, most people would use it when blocking with one's weapon or shield because the timing had to be exact. When using it with armor, a miscalculation would result in one being left defenseless before the foes. Therefore, most people would rather use it with a shield or weapon. It was common sense.

But Fortress was not an unparalleled skill. It could kill the impact, but the damage was transferred to the weapon or shield. If done poorly, the shield or weapon could break.

However, Climb knew that Gazef would go for a kick, so he did not have to worry about that.

"Were you aiming for this?!"

"Yes, sir!"

Gazef's kick was sucked in, like he kicked something soft. Normally that damage would be transferred to the armour, and the durability would decrease. However, even if it was by Gazef, his goal was to send Climb flying. It was not that strong.

His leg extended, Gazef could not put any power in his leg and gave up, and tried to return his foot to the floor. Climb cut in.

[Slash!]

He brought his sword up after initiating the maneuver, and then swung it down in an overhand chop.

You need to develop a technique that you can deploy with confidence.

After heeding the advice of a certain warrior, the untalented Climb had worked body and soul to produce this move, a strike that came from above.

Climb's body was not sheathed in muscles. He had been born with an average physique, and building muscle was difficult. Neither was he gifted with dexterity, allowing him to move as he willed even with a musclebound body.

Because of that, he had honed a specialized muscle structure in himself after nigh-endless training.

The fruit of that was this downwards stroke.

It was a high-speed slashing attack that had been refined to extraordinary levels, a flash of steel followed by a mighty wind. That strike bore down on Gazef's head.

It would be fatal if it connected, but Climb was not thinking about that. His trust in Gazef was absolute. He had only used this move because he was certain that the mighty Gazef would not be done in by an attack of that level.

There was a crisp ringing of metal, and the broadsword collided with the raised bastard sword.

All this was still within his expectations.

Climb focused the full extent of his strength in an attempt to throw Gazef off balance.

However, Gazef remained as motionless as a mountain.

It was difficult to maintain one's balance on one foot, yet Gazef had easily blocked that strike made with Climb's full strength. It was as though he were rooted into the very earth itself.

Climb had struck his mightiest blow with all the strength he could muster. Yet even the combination of these two factors could not shake Gazef standing on one foot. This fact shocked Climb to the core, and his eyes went to his belly.

He had to close in to strike with his broadsword. That meant Gazef might be able to kick his gut once more.

As Climb leapt away, said kick struck Climb's body.

There was a faint, throbbing pain. After that, both of them staggered several paces apart.

Gazef lowered his eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

It was a smile, but not one that caused displeasure. It clearly displayed his good humor. Climb was a little uncomfortable in the face of that smile, which was like a father watching his son grow.

Very well done. Therefore, I shall get a little serious now."

Gazef's face changed.

A thrill of terror ran through Climb's body. That was because his instincts told him that the Kingdom's strongest fighter now stood before him.

"Actually, I've got a potion with me. It should be able to mend broken bones, so don't worry."

"….Thank you very much."

Climb's heart lurched as he heard his opponent imply that he would be taking a fracture. While he was used to being hurt, it did not mean that he enjoyed it.

Gazef took a step forward, twice as fast as Climb stepping in.

The tip of the bastard sword pointed to the ground, tracing a low path that came at Climb's legs. The sheer speed of the attack panicked Climb, and he planted his sword on the ground, preparing to protect his legs.

There was a fierce clash. Just as Climb realized it, Gazef's sword bounced up. The bastard sword travelled along the body of the broadsword in an upwards slash.

"Oog!"

Climb threw his face — and the rest of his body — backward, and the bastard sword zipped past his body. Several strands of severed hair fell in the wake of the swing.

Filled with fear at how Gazef had overwhelmed him in an instant, Climb cast his eyes toward the tip of the sword. Then, to his horror, he saw the bastard sword suddenly halt, and then turn.

His body was moving before his mind could think.

As though driven by a basic survival instinct, he stuck out his small shield, which collided with the bastard sword and produced a ringing sound of metal.

And then—

"—Ah!"

There was a surge of pain, and then Climb was sent flying across the room. He struck the ground rolling, and the impact jarred his sword loose from his grip.

It would seem the bastard sword had immediately changed direction into a horizontal sweep after bouncing off the shield, and it had savagely struck Climb's side, which he had left exposed.

"Flow from move to move. Do not think of attack and defense as separate things. Every movement must be made in order to launch the next attack. Think of your defense as a way of setting up an attack."

Climb picked up his fallen sword and grabbed at his waist as he struggled to his feet.

"I didn't use too much force to spare you a fracture, so you should be able to fight, right? ….How do you feel?"

Climb's breathing was ragged from tension and pain, in contrast to Gazef's even, regular breaths.

He was only wasting Gazef's time if he could not even take a few hits. That said, Climb still wanted to become as strong as possible. He nodded to Gazef, and raised his sword.

"Alright. Then let's continue."

"Yes!"

With that hoarse cry, Climb broke into a run.

He was struck, he was knocked back, he was even bodily beaten. Climb crumpled to the stone floor over and over again. The cool slabs drained the heat from his body through his clothes and chain shirt, and it felt very comfortable.

"Huuu… huu… huu…"

He did not wipe his sweat away. More precisely, he lacked the strength to do so.

As pain flooded into his mind from all over his body, his whole body was gripped in a sudden surge of fatigue, and his eyes closed lightly.

"You did well. I tried to avoid breaking or splintering your bones while swinging. How do you feel?"

"…" Still on the ground, Climb moved his hands to feel up the places which hurt, then he opened his eyes. "No problems here. It hurts, but those are just bumps and bruises."

A bruise would still be quite painful, but it was not necessary to say that.

"Is that so… then we won't need to use the potion."

"Mm. Besides, using it carelessly will remove the effects of muscle training."

"Well, it's meant to provide rapid healing, but the effect of the magic also reverts the muscle to its original state. Just as well. You'll be going to bodyguard the Princess after this, am I right?"

"Yes."

"Take it, then. Just in case. Use it if anything comes up."

The medicine bottle clinked as Gazef set it down by Climb's side.

"Thank you very much."

He sat up, looking at Gazef.

He looked upon the man whose swordplay he could not hope to match.

The uninjured man different from Climb asked him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing… I just thought you're really amazing."

Gazef's forehead was devoid of sweat. His breathing was calm and regular. Was this the difference between Climb, sprawled on the ground, and the strongest man in the Kingdom? Climb sighed, but he was satisfied with this outcome. Gazef, on the other hand, seemed to be grinning.

"…Really now. Well…"

"Why—"

"—If you want to ask why I'm so strong, I can't rightfully give you an answer. Basically, I was talented. Incidentally, I learned how to fight as a mercenary. The nobles call my habit of kicking people crude, but I learned it during that time too."

There was no way to be strong. Gazef said so, and Climb felt dejected. His hope that if he did the same training as Gazef, he could become slightly stronger was dashed.

"In that sense, you're quite suited for my style of fighting with fists and feet, Climb."

"Is… that so?"

"Oh yes. You haven't been trained as a swordsman or a soldier, but that has its good points too. Once one picks up a sword, it's only natural to focus on using it… but I don't think that's a good thing. I feel that the sword should only be an attack method, alongside punching and kicking and so on. That's a practical fighting style; or a dirty… an adventurer's fighting style."

Climb's face was no longer its usual blank slate. There was a smile there now. To think the mightiest man in the Kingdom would actually praise his haphazard, slapdash sword skills.

Climb was not taught by anyone. To be more precise, there was no one in the Kingdom who would teach Climb swordsmanship. So he would watch the movements of the soldiers in the training hall. So everything was irregular, and did not stick to any style.

His unsightly swordsmanship was made fun of by the nobles, and he did not think that he would be praised.

"Alright, we'll stop training here. I should go. I need to meet the king in time to for his breakfast. Don't you need to hurry to the Princess' side?"

"No, because the Princess has a guest today."

"A guest? Which noble is that?"

To think that Princess would have a caller. Gazef was quite surprised, and then Climb answered.

"Yes, Aindra-sama."

"Oh, one of the two crazy heads of the Aindra family."

Climb returned to his expressionless face, and did not reply. He could not speak badly of his master's best friend. From the perspective of the nobles she might be weird, but if one looked at the world, she was someone who could not be rivaled. A human like Gazef—or someone who was a good friend of that oddball and had their names known everywhere could say it, someone like Climb could not.

"I see… so that was it… so if a friend's come, that means…"

Gazef nodded, and Climb felt that his thoughts had changed.

Climb felt that Gazef thought that since a friend had come, Renner could not eat with Climb, but Climb was invited. However, even Climb felt that he had to refuse.

Climb had met Aindra through Renner, and Aindra thought well of him. Surely she would not reject Climb like the other nobles if he were to join them at a dinner party.

He predicted that if he were sandwiched between the two of them and ate, his mind would not hold up. Thus he refused.

"Then are you going after breakfast?"

"Yes, that is my intention."

"I see….Then I'm sorry for taking so much of your time. Breakfast just started, and now should be a good time."

This room would become noisy after the meal.

"Thank you very much for today, Gazef-sama."

"Please, don't stand on ceremony. I had a good time too."

"…If it pleases you, could I ask for your guidance again, like today?"

Gazef could not answer for a moment. Climb saw his reaction and began to apologize, but Gazef spoke first.

"That's fine. As long as there's nobody else around, of course."

Climb keenly understood Gazef's reluctance, and so he did not say much. He forced his sore aching body to his feet and spoke his heartfelt feelings.

"Thank you very much!"

Gazef waved back grandly, and strode forth.

"Then please tidy up here. It would be terrible if I could not meet the King for his morning meal… oh yes, that downward slash of yours was pretty good. However, you need to think about what comes after that. Consider what you'd do if your strike was dodged or blocked."

"Yes!"