Welcome to the True Man’s World – 1.8

"I don’t know how to make it any clearer. I need a ship, and you’re going to give it to me. What else can you do? Send another ship for that monster to devour? At least if the ship, crew, and cargo are lost, you can say you tried something new."

"Cold comfort."

"At least it’s some kind of comfort. But you don’t have to worry about what might happen because I will win."

"Yeah. I heard about what you did in the cave and the little one you rescued. Good work, don’t get me wrong. But taking out a cave full of orcs isn’t the same as facing a sea monster on its own turf. They’re simply not on the same scale."

"I know. Just as you know you’ve got no better option."

The captain played tough, but Max could see he had him by the throat. All he needed to do was press a bit harder, and the man would yield despite his reservations. Max shouldn’t have to negotiate for the chance to save the entire town from a slow decline, from poverty and hunger.

If negotiations failed, he’d take at least one boat at swordpoint. He wouldn’t let these stubborn fools stand in his way.

"Enough already," Max insisted. "You’re scared of losing another ship, and I completely get that. But what good are they if you can’t leave the port? It’s like you don’t have a damn thing."

"You’re young and angry at the world. That’s why I’ll forgive your insolence, your lack of manners and perspective. Kid, you make it sound a lot easier than it is. I have to think about more than just the ships and the cargo. Sure, I won’t pretend to be a saint—I want my damn pockets full. But I’m not a monster either."

"One ship won’t go out there alone. You’re asking me to risk lives—my people’s lives—for a complete stranger. What kind of man would do that, no matter how desperate he is?"

Max sighed.

"If there was anyone in the village who could solve your damn problem, it wouldn’t still be a problem. Whoever kills the serpent, even if it’s not me, will have to be a stranger. You’d better get used to the idea sooner or later."

"What are you implying?"

"I’m implying that you’re not being reasonable—you’re being a coward." There was no point in holding back anymore. It was clear the negotiations had failed. "But I’ve had enough of you. Don’t want to give me a ship? Fine. I’ll manage on my own. But you’d better be the first in line to kiss my feet when I come back to shore with that bastard’s head."

Max turned to leave.

"Sir..." Helen murmured, clutching her staff tightly.

Max regretted what he’d said. Not because the stubborn captain didn’t deserve every word, but because he shouldn’t have let the girl hear that kind of talk. It was a minor issue, sure, but that didn’t make it right.

"I can defend any ship with my magic. I’m not an expert, but..."

Ah, she hadn’t been speaking to him. She was such a respectful child despite the way the world had always treated her. He felt an urge to pat her head, ruffle her hair.

"Yeah, I’m sure you can," the captain replied, suddenly uncomfortable as he scratched the back of his head. "Look, don’t say this out loud, but I’ve got no problem with elves. Seriously, none. If the gods didn’t want them to exist, they wouldn’t have made them. But it’s already going to be hard enough convincing anyone to get on that ship for what’s likely a suicide mission. If I tell them it’ll be protected by elven magic, they’d rather jump into the serpent’s mouth themselves."

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Helen deflated, bowing her head as if ashamed, regretting she’d spoken at all. But not for the real reason—more like a foolish child thinking she’d said something out of place.

Max shook his head.

"Screw all of you. I’m not sure any of you deserve to be saved."

Max walked away, holding Helen close with one arm. He felt more confident, more powerful, knowing he had someone to protect. He had to admit it.

At a distance, when he knew no one would hear them, Max knelt in the sand to look Helen in the eyes.

"How long would that protection last?" he asked softly, in a warm, reassuring tone—or at least he hoped it sounded that way. "I imagine protecting an entire ship would tire you out quickly, but just a small boat... How long do you think you could hold out without pushing yourself too hard, without putting yourself in danger?"

"You don’t need to worry about that," Helen replied. "Working until I’m exhausted is the least I can do for you, sir."

"But I don’t want you to exhaust yourself. I want to protect you."

Until I find you a safe place, he thought but wisely kept the words to himself. She wouldn’t want to hear anything about separating so soon, even if it was better for her in the long run.

"And I don’t want you calling me 'sir.' I’m not your lord—just Max is fine."

"But I called that man 'sir' too. It feels disrespectful not to."

"Don’t call him 'sir' either, or anyone here. They don’t deserve your respect. You’re a good girl, Helen." He tousled her hair and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "You’re a good girl, and you deserve better than this."

"Thank you, s—"

Max corrected her.

"Right." Helen nodded. "How long do you think you could hold out protecting a small boat?"

"That... that depends on the strength of the attacks and how well-built the boat is, but... If I push myself enough, I might be able to give you about twenty minutes."

"Alright. Twenty minutes."

That was acceptable. If he hadn’t killed the massive white serpent by then, chances were he’d be dead anyway. It was surprising how calmly he’d thought that, as if it had nothing to do with him.

Had he changed so much in such a short time? The crap he’d been through since arriving in this world certainly forced adaptation.

Maybe the system and that skill, Sword of the War God, affected more than just his stats. But whatever—he could think about that later.

Max stood.

"I know I repeat myself a lot, Helen, but it’s only because I want to make sure you’ll be alright."

"I understand, M—Max."

She smiled, still hesitant.

"Alright, let’s do this. The sooner I dive in, the less time I’ll have to regret it."

——

You don’t truly know the feeling of danger until you see death everywhere. That’s what Max was thinking as he ventured into the sea, rowing a canoe that would look like a toy when the white serpent appeared.

It was a tremendously unfavorable fight, but he didn’t feel fear. It was as if he were utterly convinced he could do this. He didn’t feel excited either—he wasn’t insane. The feeling of danger was just cold and clinical, reminding him of what he already knew: something was lurking beneath these waters that could devour him and the boat in a single bite.

So, he was in danger. But fear wasn’t with him.

"Come on out, you bastard. I’m going to turn your corpse into sushi."

The waters began to stir.

Here it comes, he thought, responding to his provocation—almost. No, surely he couldn’t attribute that much intelligence to it. But in any case, he’d soon have that thing on him.

And he was just in a goddamned boat that looked like a toy.

Wow. The great white serpent emerged from the dark depths of the sea. Wet, glistening, majestic. Up close, the beast looked especially massive. Had it grown since the last time he saw it? Or was it just a matter of perspective?

Well, whatever, he thought. Either way, he was royally screwed.

His sword looked like a sewing needle next to that thing. He’d known it from the start. The great white serpent lunged at him, roaring, its jaws opening impossibly wide, as if its jaw were unhinged. As it charged him, it also, of course, rammed into the boat.

But thanks to the ice barrier, the boat held together. As for Max, he swung his sword to avoid taking a direct hit from the enormous ice beast. It wouldn’t do him much good if the boat held up for twenty minutes only for the monster to sweep the waters away, leaving him as easy prey.

Max planted his feet firmly and pushed the sword with all his strength, both hands gripping it tightly, as if trying to force the massive beast back by himself. He was stronger than an ordinary human—he understood that perfectly.

But he’d struggled against the orc king. Facing this thing, more than five times his size, drove the point home. And yet, he managed to push the great white serpent back. The creature even seemed surprised, though the most surprised was Max himself. Despite the difference in size, he was now strong enough to force the beast back, albeit with great effort.

“Good.”

He seized the moment to step forward and swing his sword, driving it into the serpent’s body. As he pulled the weapon out, he saw that the abomination’s blood was green. It bubbled ominously, splattering against Helen’s barrier before dripping into the sea.

Acid, he thought. This damn thing doesn’t have venom. It has acid for blood.

“Shit.”