Chapter 87. Match Watching
Ernesto burst onto the platform, his robes billowing and a stormy expression on his face. He pointed at Sable. “Behind me. Now!”
Sable looked at him. A sour expression crossed her face. She went to move to his side.
Rhys caught her arm. “Wait. Why are you following him?”
“No one else will teach me. He’s my only option. If he stops sponsoring me, I… might end up like the Strawman.” She gave him a dark look and wrenched her arm free. “Stop meddling and leave me alone.”
“I can’t. If the world’s treating you like trash, then I have a very vested interest. Ernesto might consider you trash, but I want to see you polished,” Rhys insisted.
She ignored him, walking back to Ernesto’s side. Rhys watched her go, feeling a vague sense of interest. Like Mouse, she piqued that part of him that sat up whenever someone who was ‘trash’ walked by, but she piqued it even more strongly than Mouse. It seemed that the more someone was looked down upon or considered unworthy, the more it activated his trash path. Bast, who was an overlooked orphan about to embark on a life of crime, and Sable, the unvalued child of one of the beings declared enemies of the world, were far more ‘filthy’ and ‘trashy’ than a mousy girl who’d been accepted into a mage school and doubtlessly made contributions that someone in the school recognized as worthwhile, who simply liked to hide in social situations.
He made a quiet note in the back of his mind to keep an eye on Sable. It didn’t seem like she was happy under Ernesto, and she was truly a very competent fighter. Plus, as someone born into using curse power, she was an ideal teacher to help him unlock the secrets to processing, storing, and using curse power and curses himself. He’d already figured out the basics, but there was a difference between knowing where the gas and the steering wheel were, and knowing how to drift a car to come out ahead in a street race.
He was against regimented learning that ignored the realities of one’s talents and interests in preference for teaching children social norms, but he had nothing against learning from experts who knew much more than he did. In fact, he wouldn’t mind sparring against Sable. His skills in fighting a humanoid enemy with a normal number of limbs fell apart when faced with a multi-limbed enemy with blades attached to every appendage, fingers and toes included. He was sure that someone with more talent in the sword could have handled the situation just fine, but he had trash talent. Without lots of practice and trial and error, he had very little hope of winning in such a situation. In a world with monsters, beasts, and all sorts of horrors, he needed to learn how to fight non-humans just as much as humans. Sable provided that in a… relatively safe format, depending on her level of association with Ernesto.
“Do you require healing?” the ref offered quietly to Rhys.
“Huh? Oh.” He looked down at his bleeding leg. It was ripped up pretty badly. He waved his hand. “I’ll be fine.” Reaching into his robes, he took out a potion and took a small sip.
She raised her brows. “You’ll need more than that.”
“Probably,” Rhys agreed. Better to do it one sip at a time so Less is More could kick in, though.