The reluctant sorcerer a.., p.6
The Reluctant Sorcerer: A LitRPG Fantasy, page 6
"We aim to be more welcoming to all," Saka responded.
"Admirable," I commented. "However, I suspect a duel between us would not fare well for you. Your martial skills might be exemplary, but they would be less effective against me. Would you consider facing my servant, Alex? He's more physically inclined."
"You're saying I would be defeated by you?" Saka inquired, leaning in, intrigued by the idea. Men of his nature often find lessons in defeat.
"I am competent in speed and strength, but my core expertise lies in wizardry. I suspect your followers may even surpass me in combat skills," I explained, gesturing toward a young disciple throwing baptista bombs at my maid, who was considerably lighter.
A peculiar noise escaped her as she was hit. I noted mentally to repair her later.
"My forte is large-scale destructive magic and intricate micro-spellwork," I continued. "None of which lends itself to a fulfilling duel."
Saka tightened his arms, bulging his muscles. "Alright, what about your servant?" He gestured at Alex. "He appears to be just a feline man in a gown."
One of his friends interjected, "Saka, remember, inclusivity, dude. A 'bro' is a 'bro,' regardless."
"Understood," Saka corrected himself. "My apologies, servant bro."
"No offense taken," Alex replied.
"Would you mind engaging these fellows in combat, Alex? No need to restrain yourself," I suggested.
Alex nodded in agreement. "Of course."
Saka sprang up, grinning eagerly, his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles cracked. "Let's get to it!"
"Before that, I do have a few inquiries, as per our agreement?"
The excitement drained from Saka's face. "My friends can speak on my behalf," he said, his enthusiasm reviving.
"Very well," I conceded. "Proceed."
The disciples quickly cleared the sect's garden, positioning themselves behind wooden barriers. An incapacitated member was promptly moved to a room labeled 'infirmary.'
Saka clearly held the upper hand in terms of strength over Alex, but it promised to be educational for both.
"Saka Firefist, Brobarian of the Lava Fist, level 458," I observed. He was, without a doubt, the highest-leveled human I had encountered.
"So," I began, addressing the sect members. "I have two objectives: to locate a powerful ancient artifact known as a font, and to learn about a faction called either the 'Dread Knights' or the 'Dead Knights.'"
One of the members replied, "The Dread Knights are a formidable force of skeletal warriors from the northern lands. They've claimed nearby islands and conduct raids from the Flaming Steppes every few years."
"In the past, they'd sweep across this region and even infiltrate the mainland with ease," someone noted. "Their invasions have lost potency over time, while our capabilities have risen. Now, most sects within the Flaming Steppes can halt them in their tracks before they make significant progress."
"Really?" I inquired. "What about the infamous Dread Knights?"
"Not them; they're in a league of their own. But the Insect Goddess calls these steppes her home. She often personally intervenes or joins forces with her daughters to hold them off," the man said, pointing at our mantis companion who was visibly nervous as Alex and Saka geared up for combat. "With such allies, we can repel the Dread Knights."
"Understood," I acknowledged.
Saka adjusted his footing on the pebbly terrain, lowering his stance while elevating his clenched fists.
Alex offered a respectful bow before assuming a dignified posture—feet together and back upright—as one would expect from a housemaid.
"Ready, fellow maid?" Saka queried.
"Indeed, Mr. Saka," Alex responded.
Launching with astonishing swiftness, Saka's fist exploded forward accompanied by a sonic boom and a flash of fire.
Dodging the attack, Alex penetrated Saka's defense. Swinging one arm, he aimed the flat of his hand at Saka's face. Saka intercepted the blow with his forearm, causing a minor eruption of wind and gravel that sent Alex's dress into ripples.
"You possess considerable strength," Alex commented.
"You're not too shabby yourself," Saka retorted, resetting his stance before lunging anew.
As both fighters exchanged rapid-fire blows, their movements were too swift for the average eye to follow. Saka demonstrated greater speed and brute strength, employing a forthright and merciless fighting style. Conversely, Alex exhibited superior agility and finesse, with elusive footwork and a varied attack strategy that included aerial strikes and ground spins.
The audience members of the upper sects were riveted, erupting in cheers whenever either combatant landed a solid blow.
My interest waned rapidly. Though Saka's 'lava fists' intrigued me initially, it soon became clear that it was a flashy yet inefficient version of a typical fireball spell. Its spectacle lay more in Saka's ability to avoid self-immolation than in inflicting substantial damage.
"I'll return shortly," I announced, heading towards the medical facility.
Alex had opted for a meat mallet as his weapon of choice. The shockwaves from each failed strike reverberated through the ground, causing the surrounding buildings to shake. The residents appeared rather nonchalant about it, leading me to believe that such occurrences were not uncommon here.
The door to the medical area was unsurprisingly unlocked and revealed numerous occupied beds, hosting both young men and women.
A lady clad in a plain white robe approached me, her face displaying the familiar fatigue of healthcare professionals. "What brings you here?" she inquired curtly.
"I'm looking for my trainee," I replied.
"Could you be more specific? I've got a dozen 'young elites' here, each with an array of broken bones and fractures, including a couple of shattered jaws, a skull crack, a spine issue, and one even suffering from a urinary issue."
"A urinary issue?" I mused.
She rolled her eyes. "He posed as a young noble, and someone actually fell for it. Now he's dealing with the consequences. The closest he'll ever get to being a Lava Fist, in my opinion."
A distant groan filled the room.
"My pupil is a young woman. About this tall, wears glasses, has dark hair, and dons a kimono covered by a plaid shawl."
"Ahh, that one. She's virtually a goner," the woman said.
"Completely gone, or just knocking at death's door?" I queried.
"She's intact and even breathing. A few hours at most, I'd wager."
"Ah, you appear rather unbothered by that."
"Do you realize how frequently these fools injure themselves? They've become more sensible lately, but they used to glorify recklessness. Just look at the older generation and tally the missing limbs. Most are the result of infections, not the fanciful tiger attacks they claim," she explained.
"I see, a familiar tale of bravado. Now, about my near-expired trainee?"
"She's over here," the woman led me through the room, skillfully ignoring various calls for help and prayers to higher powers. She finally stopped beside a bed where my pupil was lying, her canine companion whimpering beside her.
"You allowed the dog?" I questioned.
"It can't worsen the situation," she responded. "So, planning to handle the remains?"
"In due time. For now, she's still breathing," I said, placing a hand on her forehead to assess the situation.
Name
Class
Secondary Class
Fenfang Fang
Hexmage
None
Species
Ethical Alignment
Human
Neutral Balanced
Current Tier
EXP until Next Level
21
498
Vitality
12/114
Armor Skill
Light Armor
Defense Rating
10
Resistances
None
Weaknesses
Myopic
Dazed
Fractured Limbs
Critical Condition
Special Traits
Quick Learner
Fenfang was advancing commendably, albeit at a modest pace. A level-up every day was more than satisfactory at this stage. I anticipated a decrease in speed soon, but until then, she was performing admirably.
I placed my palm on her torso.
"Advanced Healing Wound."
Her fractured bones realigned themselves with gratifying clicks, and she promptly regained consciousness. "M-Master!" The canine energetically nudged its muzzle against Fenfang's torso, its body quivering in excitement.
"Am I alive?" she queried, momentarily glancing at her surroundings. "The last thing I recall is some kid grabbing me, rather forcefully. Is this some sort of medical facility?"
"Yes, you're in what could best be described as an infirmary," I confirmed.
She frowned. "Did I fail?"
"You performed adequately, up to the standard I would expect. Gained any insights?"
Gazing at the ceiling, she idly stroked her dog. "I must improve my spell repertoire."
"A valid takeaway," I agreed. "Anything else?"
She let out a reluctant breath. "I need to master quicker spell-casting, even under distractions."
"Excellent! Once Alex's duel concludes, win or lose, perhaps we can arrange another practice fight. I'm sure the local fighters would welcome a rematch."
"I'm not so sure I would," she retorted.
I met her gaze squarely. "In neither the archaic realms nor in our contemporary world without systemic powers does strength come to those unwilling to strive for it."
"Point taken," she conceded, patting her dog one last time before swinging her legs over the bed. "Okay, I'll go for it. Just make sure you heal me afterward."
"Actually, I think I'll teach you the 'Cure Wounds' spell. It falls under evocation. Maybe you can even use it to assist others here."
Her eyes brightened. "That actually sounds enjoyable."
"I thought you might think so," I responded.
We exited the infirmary to find the courtyard resembling a war zone. Ornamental rocks lay shattered, magma puddles bubbled amid scattered gravel, and a Saka, resembling a molten elemental, was trading blows with an unscathed Alex.
"Still going at it?" I mused. Acquiring answers at this pace seemed an ever-distant possibility.
Chapter 9 – The Lady of the Mantids
Struggling to absorb every nuance, Rem kept all five of her eyes trained on the unfolding scene. She didn't find it difficult to track the large, fiery sect warrior. He was quick, and the magma-based attacks he used were undoubtedly bothersome, but he lacked subtlety—a human who was brutish and loud. Though unsure if she could best him in direct combat, an ambush might tip the odds in her favor.
His abilities commanded respect, even from her Divine Mother, who held a certain degree of regard for him and his sect. However, it was Alex who enthralled her.
For Rem, stillness was a habit—predators were patient observers. She'd spent countless hours watching insects wrestle, toil, and exist, their miniature lives offering a sort of microcosm theater viewed from her vantage point.
The fire-imbued human was akin to the bulky beetles that roamed the Flaming Steppes—robust but awkward. On the other hand, Alex resembled a pyro-wasp: agile, skillful at evading attacks, and retaliating with a force that belied his size.
As the duelists darted across the central courtyard of the sect compound, Rem noticed they seemed to have an unspoken pact to restrain their full power. After all, the structure was still intact. Junior sect members and other less formidable humans were busy channeling the ever-increasing lava away from the wooden structures, thereby limiting Alex's operational space. But he seemed unbothered.
In a swirling display of monochrome fabric, Alex launched himself at the brutish human, twisted in mid-air, and delivered a forceful kick to his shoulder, plunging him into the molten earth. It wasn't enough to incapacitate his opponent, but the impact did shatter the ground and set it quaking.
“Dude, killer move, maid guy!” exclaimed the brutish human, shrugging off the impact.
Landing gracefully on a rock above the bubbling ground, Alex smoothed his skirts. “I thank you for your restraint. You're undoubtedly a more daunting opponent than I am.”
In Rem's eyes, Alex was exhibiting an irritating modesty. He was clearly outmaneuvering his opponent. Throughout the duel, she had been mesmerized by the elegance of his moves—and she had never felt the urge to devour anyone more than right now. Her stomach tightened in an unfamiliar manner. Was she hungry?
Both combatants shifted their gaze skyward, noting the sky's transition into twilight. “Shall we resume this tomorrow?” Alex suggested, “I have duties, like preparing meals and laundering, to attend to.”
“I was really enjoying myself, though,” the brutish human retorted.
Alex bowed slightly, gathering the edges of his skirts. “Understood. Perhaps we can continue another time and reflect on today's lessons?”
Rem couldn't help but feel disappointed. She was intrigued by Alex, whose combat skills were unlike anything she'd ever seen. For some unfathomable reason, he even wanted to train her in the art of being a maid. Could maids secretly be these ultra-powerful beings on a path to divinity?
As she approached Alex, who was now navigating across the cooling magma, he greeted her. “Hello Rem, did you enjoy the show?”
“No,” she answered, bluntly. “I would've preferred seeing you injured.”
Alex responded with a smile. “In that case, it's time to wrap up the day, isn't it?”
"Do you expect me to nap again?" queried Rem.
"Not at all. Your training session is up next," came the reply.
Though Rem complained under her breath, she was secretly excited about the upcoming lesson. Perhaps with a focus on combat, she'd finally learn some fighting techniques.
They discovered Harold and the woman Rem thought of as the "limpet" in a side room of the compound. While Harold was engrossed in a book, the limpet was thumbing through another tome and occasionally inspecting the torn fabric of her clothes. She appeared physically unscathed, but her garments told a different story.
Scanning their accommodations, Alex found the rooms to be basic—equipped with essential furniture and fixtures. Rem never had an eye for such trivialities.
"Excellent. If it's okay with our limpet friend here, I'll whip up a meal while Rem assists her with changing clothes," Alex proposed.
The limpet eyed Rem suspiciously. "You sure she won't slice me to pieces?"
"I only sever what I aim to," Rem retorted, adding, "and you're a tempting target."
"No maiming, please," Harold interjected without lifting his eyes from his book. "She's had enough for one day, and I haven't taught her healing spells yet."
Resigned, the limpet stood. "Fine. Can you mend my outfit, Alex?"
"Absolutely. Rem, please place it in the washroom. Maybe I can show you a thing or two about tailoring," Alex offered.
Rem wasn't thrilled. Tailoring didn't help in vanquishing foes. However, she noticed Alex's dexterous hands—could that be part of his prowess? A technique honed through repetitive tasks, perhaps?
She trailed the limpet to her room. "I can undress myself, you know," the limpet stated.
"I'm following Alex's orders," Rem shrugged, brandishing her blade-like appendages.
The limpet distanced herself. "I can manage on my own. Now, turn away."
"Why would I?"
"Because I'm disrobing?" the limpet seemed puzzled.
"So?"
"I'd rather you not see me unclothed."
"And why's that?"
"Because it's improper."
Rem scoffed. "You're already lacking decency. I bet you're not even palatable."
Annoyed, the limpet hurled her shawl at Rem with unexpected precision. "Go help Alex with dinner; I'll handle this myself."
Reluctant, Rem lifted her blade-arms. "I'd rather not. All he does is make me dice vegetables and drop them in boiling water."
"Wouldn't you like to spend more time with him?" the limpet inquired.
Pondering, Rem realized that additional time with Alex would allow her to uncover more of his strengths and abilities. "Yes, more time would be beneficial," she concluded.
The limpet chuckled, "As long as you enjoy it. By the way, did you watch Alex in combat?"
"I observed intently," Rem admitted, always searching for weaknesses and opportunities to learn.
"He's not exactly my type—too soft-spoken for my taste," the limpet noted. Rem didn't understand the term, but assumed it was irrelevant. "However, he is charming and gallant."
"What's gallant?" inquired Rem.
"Ah, it means someone who's courageous and gallant," Rem snorted.
"Don't clarify a difficult term with another difficult term, you nincompoop."
The young woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, he's a kind person, particularly toward women."
Rem found the information irrelevant. "I don't see the point," she declared.
"Really?" The young woman leaned in, her face tinged with pink. Was she ill? Was she attempting to infect Rem? "So what do you appreciate about Alex?"
Confusion set in again, which was increasingly normal for Rem. Taking the question at its most straightforward level seemed best. "He offers great sustenance. He's also robust. A competent servant. I aim to be strong as well."
