Chapter 143: Sana

Well, I sure came a long way.

Next time, I knew to say "System," and summon the menu back. For a month, I'd lived oblivious to all these features and details about the System, but now, I was equipped.

And after all the discoveries, new plans were taking form within my head. I could already see myself wandering about in the fields and prairies, under the bright, shiny sun, as I chased this and that monster-type, or even mankind folks, stealing their skills like I used to do a lot in the past, with a smile.

The story of the young storyteller was about that kind of monster, after all. Stealing and copying skills was second nature to me. Really, if I could copy just about any skill and natural ability people or animals had, I'd definitely grow strong just as per the first rule I was taught at the Academy. Thus do many skills lead to victory.

Following my instinct, I was sure to become more powerful yet. And that freaky swordsman in front of me, he wouldn't be acting so funny then.

...Ring! I thought that notification was about a quest, but no. The System, now that I had figured it all out and knew how to interact with it like the Player was supposed to, then reminded me of one thing: ❮ The Player may find a suitable Receptacle in order to ensure survival. (Recommended.) ❯

The old man was right. One day, we discussed that matter, and I was told that, supposedly, always finding Receptacles was a survival mechanism inherent to my "race," but I had outgrown such a reflex when I grew so much stronger and could survive just well without a Receptacle also. Still, the System, to this day, enjoined me to live by this survival rule. Fair enough, using Receptacles, I was more or less immortal. Then again, with my overflowing power, I couldn't quite use any for now. Not to mention that my power, or rather STR statistics, just increased by an awful lot, so there was no telling how worse my issue had grown.

I couldn't use any... not as long as I didn't take boring classes with my old man who said he could teach me that anytime, saying it would "only" take a matter of weeks of daily practice...

Wait a second!? I thought. Only "weeks of daily practice"... eh? That sounds familiar. Wasn't I just told the same thing a few minutes ago...?

If "Copy Skill" was as versatile as I thought it was, I could fix the issue of my overflowing mana rather easily when it came to be using the good old "Dwelling."

Again, new plans formed in my head, and I grinned.

But for now, other matters mattered most. Up until now, I was cornering myself all alone, isolating myself from outer stimulations and disturbance. I was busy with my quality time with System chan, so I'd better not be disturbed by the freak of a swordsman standing on the other side of the room.

My strength had been multiplied tenfold. I brought about it. In less than a split second, I darted back to the middle of the empty dojo. It only took one "Quick Pace," but from an outsider's look, it must have looked like the monster only took "one step," then disappeared, then reappeared.

My feet left a mark on the clean, smooth parquet of this place.

Now I'll have to be even more on guard when I'm out walking with regular civilians, I thought. I already had a hard enough time regulating my overflowing mana before... Crap, my old man will scold my recklessness for sure.

It did feel great, though. To make it very clear with a few words, I was like an unstable blast ready to burst at any time.

The swordsman pissed me off. It's like he could never be surprised at anything I did. Other people feared me when I let showed the monster I hid inside, but he didn't. Yes, when I performed that overpowered Quick Pace just now, he raised an eyebrow, but he was still perfectly calmly resting his back on the wall, his arms crossed on his chest, looking straight at me.

Remember, on a rack, there was some long black sword that always struck me as a threat. An ominous threat. A threat of a black, dark egg ready to hatch.

"...My floor, boy. Now you piss me off," the swordsman said, clenching his jaws together. Damaging the doors was okay, apparently, but not the smooth parquet floor.

My eyes turned to a slit as I observed the long demonic black sword. For some reason, it felt like the sword was staring right back at me. With Mana Perception, I could see one of the thickest dark auras I'd ever seen. The System was no use for the first time in my life: ❮ Vampiric Longsword "Sana" — ??? ❯

Upon closer observation, the sword was truly different. When I stepped toward the swordsman, the vampiric longsword kept clicking.

Click, click, click!

From the sheath, it slightly jumped in and out, making clicking sounds... "Like... what?" I tilted my head and frowned. Then, the freak swordsman gently hushed a most gracious "Shh..." before the sword stopped at once.

"The heck's that... sir? I'm not exactly an expert, but I've never heard of that. Even among enchanted magical artifacts."

"It is but my sword, boy," the swordsman said, coming off the wall and walking to me. "Don't let it disturb you."

I said I wouldn't. Our little exchange came to an end, quickly. My sword rested on my shoulder—I saw the guy doing that with his own sword a day ago and I found the demeanor quite cool so I mimicked it—I took it off my shoulder and pointed it at the swordsman's face, asking him what he was staring at me for.

That wasn't new. He often did that. To tell the truth, I did that a lot, too. I didn't exactly find it creepy or unsettling, and as I said that wasn't a new behavior in the man, but did his stare mean he could see me? The new me? The 218 STR me?

Suddenly grinning, the freaky swordsman held his arms open and shrugged at me. "Who knows?" he said, shaking his head. "I could tell a lot about my stare, just like I could about yours—"

"Just get to the point."

"...Just get to the point," he repeated, in a low voice, looking quite dramatic. As suddenly as he grinned at me, the freak swordsman now graciously bowed, or greeted me, with a noble curtsy. "Your wishes mean everything to me... But my only wish matters, too."

Caught off-guard by the display of reverence, I made a "Huh?" face and felt like taking a step back.

Standing like he usually did, he repeated my wish again and spoke normally. Freaking freak. "...I'm happy to say, boy, I know you as I know myself. We're similar. For that reason, for the time being, I'm only interested in one thing: you become my disciple."

I said no.

"You have to."

Again, I said no, but the hesitation was palpable. I then told the swordsman that, with every "tic, tic, tic" of the sun, time was going by, and I still had things planned for today, so he had better get ready to fight me one last time.

"With every 'tic, tic, tic' of a clock, you mean? Sure. Though I'll have to say, the skill you wanted, you've learned it, so... aren't we done yet? Far from me the idea to chase you—"

I told him I was pretty sure we weren't done. "Listen, swordsman. I'll join your guild."

"....Ah?"

"Only if you beat me, that is."

"...Cheeky brat?"

"Just get ready."

The swordsman scoffed and shook his head with amusement.

"So be it, then," he shrugged. "You'll join your own guild, and you'll hear my only wish. I'll train you as hard as... 'we' were trained... and I'll be served... ha... ha-ha-ha!"

When I decided to be a cheeky brat anyway and answer that I was already powerful enough, the freak shook his head and tut-tutted me. "No," he cut short. "I'll teach you what real power is, boy."

This, I thought, would be our last exchange.

To live and to die by the sword—that was our little school's motto. The Skill School. ...Wait up? The "Skill School"? For real? "System," I summoned the Menu, then the Skill Interface, and checked a skill out. The name was "Skill School — Sword Style +3" Wasn't "Skill" the name the System gave me?

Heaving a long sigh, I was getting irritated. I did feel like asking the freak swordsman who he was, but I didn't. Whoever he was, the motto of his little guild would hold true for him. He lived by his sword, now he'd die by mine.

Perfectly ready in front of me, 15 feet away, the swordsman invited me. Unwilling to deny him his "dance," I entered a battle stance.

I was sure to surprise him. He didn't know about the 218 STR points. Keeping my monster-like aura from leaking out, I drew my sword to his face. In an instant, I blasted off towards him, using Quick Pace.