Chapter 178
Here's the translation without asterisks:
"Don't focus solely on attacks. Always keep defense in mind!!"
Considering the possibility of fighting the Jester of Mad Revelry, it became necessary to have Nel gain as much combat experience as possible, even a single moment counted.
In a way, this was more important than acquiring skills.
If fundamental safety was the priority, there were countless methods—I could step in myself or advise His Grace the Duke to have Nel withdraw from the competition.
"Tch!"
However, I believed that discouraging her and making her give up at this stage would do more harm than good.
To be blunt, Nel's desire to participate in this duel was largely driven by emotional reasons.
The reason was simple: Lady Esmeralda had become a close friend to Nel.
So if her friend was in trouble, Nel wanted to help.
That was all.
If the duel was meant to resolve the issue, then wanting to step in and crush the opponent was, well, a childish sentiment.
That emotion itself wasn't wrong.
But given the circumstances, if her skills weren't up to par, I believed she should suppress that impulse this time.
No matter how high her stats were. No matter how powerful her skills were.
If the wielder wasn't capable, it would be like casting pearls before swine.
If you handed a fighter jet to a complete amateur, they wouldn't even know how to start the engine, let alone operate the controls.
What was needed was knowledge—and the experience to apply it.
With merciless determination, I pressed Nel harder, overwhelming her as she struggled.
The sound of wood clashing echoed through the garden, most of the strikes coming from me.
Before, I had assumed the opponent would be an ordinary knight or soldier rather than the Jester of Mad Revelry, so I hadn't intervened.
Frankly, with Nel's current physical abilities, she could easily one-shot average NPCs.
But this time, the expected opponent was one of FBO's most notorious named enemies, infamous for tormenting players.
Its combat style? A debuff attacker. Specialized in nullifying the opponent's strengths and exploiting their weaknesses—a high-speed attacker.
"A single hit from the enemy could be fatal!! Assume any telegraphed attack will miss!!"
Using a Dueling Piece would ensure safety, but there was no telling what might happen afterward.
That was why I had made it clear to Nel: even if she mastered the skills to fight the Jester of Mad Revelry, if I judged it too risky in the end, she wouldn't be allowed to participate. She had agreed to this.
I wouldn't dismiss her outright from the start, but the bar was set undeniably high.
No cutting corners—I would train her thoroughly.
The weapon I wielded now was a wooden sword, closer in length to a dagger.
Though I usually fought with a spear, I had extensive experience with dagger-build characters.
Thus, for this session, I became the virtual enemy, drilling Nel relentlessly on how to counter the Jester of Mad Revelry—or rather, the modified "Ares" style.
"I see, it's quite a dirty fighting style. First, it aims for the legs to cripple mobility, then when your gaze drops, it targets the wrists or fingers. Once your attention shifts to your extremities, it feints toward vital points like the face or heart to instill fear."
I had fought this enemy countless times.
I understood its thought process and attack patterns to some degree.
The real Jester of Mad Revelry might not follow set patterns, but this simulation would still be invaluable training.
"Haaah... haaah..." "Making you expend nerves and stamina is part of its strategy too." "Hmm, that makes sense."
Nel, drenched in sweat and panting, gripped her training weapon as Claudie provided commentary.
"Liberta's level is lower, yet Nel's the one being overwhelmed." "It's a difference in skill. Plus, since Liberta originally designed Nel's combat style, he knows her movements inside out."
I kind of wanted to see the look of surprise on Amina's face as she watched, but I couldn't afford to glance away mid-training. Maintaining a stance that seemed lax but was actually ready, I stepped forward.
"Hmph!"
I narrowly avoided Nel's horizontal slash by half-stepping back.
A fraction of a second was all I needed.
In that time, I could close the distance and strike.
"Always leave some margin for error, so you can react even if they get close. If they breach your guard like this—" "Take this!"
I struck the back of Nel's left hand with my wooden sword, aiming to disrupt her attack with pain. But the hit wasn't strong enough, and she countered without hesitation—probably thanks to the Marsh Drake Gauntlet's defense.
Even a wooden sword couldn't pierce those scales.
"You should've created distance there instead."
But there were ways around that. I crossed my wooden sword to block Nel's full-force strike.
"Eh?!"
Then, instead of resisting, I redirected the force.
Nel's body was thrown off-balance, leaving her wide open.
"And that's a point."
As she stumbled, exposing her back, I gently pressed my wooden sword against her neck the moment she tried to recover.
"Lost again!!" "Hahaha! I'm not letting you win that easily."
The match ended with Nel pouting in frustration. Even with inferior stats, there were countless ways to win.
The difference in combat experience was staggering. I had no intention of losing so easily.
No matter how adorably she glared at me, clutching her wooden halberd with teary eyes.
"Alright, time for the debrief." "Okay."
She was getting used to fighting daggers, but she was still far from proficient. With time running out, I wanted her to learn countermeasures quickly—but the real concern was developing a mental block.
Losing repeatedly to the same weapon could plant subconscious doubts: *Maybe I can't beat dagger users.*
That was how mental barriers formed, taking root deep in the psyche. And that subconscious fear could create openings against unfamiliar opponents wielding the same weapon.
So I made sure to nip such doubts in the bud. The opponent wasn't invincible.
Every human action had logic and tells—if you could read them, you could win.
I hammered this into Nel's mind: *They're beatable.*
Until now, I'd focused on teaching her skills and leveling, but now technique was just as crucial. The last thing I needed was her developing a mental block, so I addressed it aggressively.
"See how I stepped in earlier?" "Yeah."
I recreated the fight in slow motion, guiding Nel through the motions. No vague explanations—actions spoke louder than words. As Yamamoto Isoroku once said:
*"Show them, explain it, let them try, and praise them—otherwise, people won't move."*
Truer words were never spoken. People hesitate when faced with the unknown, losing motivation. That was why hands-on experience, clear explanations, and—
"When you forced a counterattack here, it made your move predictable. So instead, you half-step back like this—" "Oh, so I should move like this?" "Exactly! That's much smoother. You catch on quick, Nel."
—praising progress, even exaggerating a little, reinforced confidence. *"I can do this."* That was the key to motivation.
By pointing out mistakes and improvements, Nel absorbed the lessons like a sponge. At first, she couldn't lay a finger on my dagger style, but now she occasionally landed startlingly sharp counters.
Diligent and earnest—that was Nel's strength.
"And what about this move?" "Hmm, your approach works, but it's situational. In real combat, you adapt on the fly. Your idea would shine against this pattern though." "I see!"
Her ability to internalize lessons and devise her own tactics was impressive. That diligence kept me motivated as her teacher.
"Liberta, while training is important, you still need to level up too, right? You haven't finished Class 3 yet."
Time flew when teaching passionately. Nel's enthusiasm made the sessions stretch beyond schedule, eating into my own time.
"Ah, right. I should hit the dungeon soon." "I'll take over the rest of Nel's training. You and Ingrid should head out." "Thanks. I'll be back by evening."
I’d have to make up for lost time with quality grinding. Training Nel was vital, but I needed to grow stronger too.
"Good luck out there, Liberta!" "Yeah, I'm close to Class 4. Today's the day."
With that, I headed to the coliseum to access the dungeon—only to sense something amiss.
"…We’re being followed, aren’t we?" "Indeed, we are."
At first, I thought it was coincidence. So I took a detour, but the presence persisted. Even after an intentional roundabout route, the pursuer stuck with us.
Ingrid noticed too, glancing back subtly. "See them?" "…Yes. Their appearance is rather unsavory." "I’ve got a hunch who sent them."
From what I glimpsed, they were unmistakably underworld types. Timing-wise, this had to be related to Lady Esmeralda’s engagement.
"Getting jumped would be a pain. Let’s run." "Understood."
Knowing who was behind this was already giving me a headache. The moment we rounded a corner, we broke into a sprint.
Multiple figures gave chase, but— "This way." "Yes."
I’d memorized the capital’s layout since arriving here. Comparing it to the game was practically my hobby. Did they really think they could win at hide-and-seek against me?
"Dead end ahead, but we’re vaulting the wall." "Understood."
They’d probably celebrate cornering us, but this was all part of the plan. I slung my spear across my back, used it to scale the wall, then pulled Ingrid up.
"Thanks." "Don’t mention it."
As the pursuers arrived below— "Later."
—I waved and hopped down the other side. "Don’t recognize them." "Hired disposable muscle, no doubt. Not worth the trouble."
So they were resorting to blatant interference now. But why target us? Could it be Shin?
After shaking off the thugs, I pondered their motives en route to the coliseum. "Who do you think they were after—me or you?" "…Likely you, Liberta-sama." "I figured it might be you, since you’re a maid from the Duke’s estate." "That’s possible, but given your recent exploits, you’re the higher-value target." "What an honor."
What a nuisance. If Shin was behind this, he’d pay for wasting my time. But betraying us now would be too sloppy.
"Should we inform His Grace?" "Advisable."
The prime suspect was Shin, followed by the entity posing as Ares, the Voltolinde faction, or—less likely—the royal family. Too many possibilities to narrow down easily.
Now then, what to do about this misfortune…?