“Show me your stance,” Tiberius speaks curtly.

Well, I asked the guys to show me how to actually wield a sword. And I don’t think this will turn out to be a great idea—

“Joey, don’t get distracted!” Tiberius barks. Weirdly, I might add, considering his usually tame character. But that’s what you get, right? Military through and through.

Let’s try it out.

I have my left foot in the front, a two-handed grip on the sword, and I’m resting on the balls of my feet.

Tiberius’s brows shoot up.

“Do you have some training? The way you hold your sword is very sloppy, but the rest of your body is in a decent position.”

“I have done some boxing,” I say with a smile, “but that was just to make my father happy. I don’t know anything about fighting, really.”

Tiberius nods and raises his own sword.

“Let’s avoid blows to the head. These blades don’t have an edge, but they can still cause injuries.”

“No trouble,” I say as I swiftly approach the homeless guy and cross my sword with him.

Tiberius crosses his sword with mine, shaking his head for a moment. But just for a moment because in the next second, I push back, move his sword out of the way, and shoulder-tackle the guy.

He tries to adjust his balance on the rear leg since his front leg has lost its footing due to the tackle. But it’s a wooden leg – you can’t move swiftly with one. No way in hell.

I just push the flailing man further, and he falls on his back. A moment later, my sword rests right in front of his face.

I earn myself a bunch of stares from everyone around since more than one homeless guy has suddenly taken an interest in our sparring session after they saw Quintus getting knocked out from afar. And Tiberius himself doesn’t look pleased with being thrown to the ground either.

He catches my extended hand, and I help him up.

As Tiberius puts himself back into position, I look at his wooden leg. It starts right above the knee. I take a few deep breaths, knowing that the man will be much more careful now.

This time, I feint a stab and move my sword up. He sees both, but he doesn’t see my foot on his stomach. The upward motion was only done to conceal the kick.

Once again, Tiberius is with his back on the grass and my sword in his face.

I extend my hand again, and this time, the man’s grasp is tight.

I look around, and Quintus has somehow gotten another sword in his hands, clearly itching to give me a beating.

“Tell you what,” I say to Tiberius, “you try and attack first.”

The experienced [Soldier] is clearly not happy with me giving him pointers, but he’s a bit too enraged to refuse.

Tiberius puts his wooden leg forward, slowly advancing, like a Muay Thai fighter of sorts, raising the wooden leg rhythmically to avoid me sweeping it.

And yes, he gives me a tremendous beating now. I don’t really know how to handle a sword, and after a few awkward parries, Tiberius is resting his sword at my neck.

“If you had a metal leg, you could bait your enemies into swinging against you, and they would break their legs on it. You would need to put on more muscle to do that, but… yeah.”

Tiberius starts scoffing at the very first word out of my mouth, but as he listens to my explanation, something clearly goes off in his head. With his brows furrowed, he says: “You taught us a lesson, didn’t you?”

“Unless that’s a super disrespectful thing because of the levels in your society and some other weird customs,” I shrug. “You fight defensively, but you rest your weight on the wooden leg because you are right-handed. You naturally switched to a left-handed stance when attacking because it’s much easier to maneuver that way.”

Every [Soldier] among the homeless people suddenly nodded without even realizing it.

“How did you even notice all of this? Are you a [Weaponmaster]?”

How? Huh.

Scratching my head, I realize again that I don’t know what just happened.

“It just came to me. I am good at analyzing patterns?”

Quintus suddenly barges into the conversation, as confused as Tiberius.

“Do you want to teach me a lesson?” He raises a sword to my face while speaking.

“Nah, thank you very much. Already done that. I’ll pass on the follow-up. But I can tell you that if you fought more defensively instead of lashing out with those wild swings, you could just learn by instinct what your reach can do. Advancing means you are processing more and more space every second. Without an eye, it’s easy to see why that would make you an ineffective fighter. Instead, if you stood your ground, you could have more control over your range.”

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“You…” Quintus is looking for a rebuttal, but he’s clearly processing what I just said.

“You and Tiberius were basically fighting in the exact opposite way than how you should have been. Anyway,” I say as I hand my sword over to Quintus, “I need some help with something. How about you two take a shower, and I explain what I came here for?”

“How about instead I spar with the Human?” I suddenly hear the words being spat by an Elf at my back, coming up the small hill.

As I turn, I see the one guy who tried to stir trouble when I was cutting hair the very first time.

“Fuck off, Arminius, you freak,” Quintus snarls at the man.

“What do you want?” Tiberius adds right after.

“I saw you two sparring with this little Worm, and Quintus even got himself knocked out. I was just wondering if you were suddenly consorting with Humans. Perhaps you are trying to move to Teiko and start a family there?”

Now, I have no idea how this is supposed to be an insult, but both my pals seem to take it really badly.

Arminius is missing an eye the same way Quintus is, but he’s also missing a few fingers on each hand. Not that I’m stupid enough to think the man wouldn’t still whoop my ass if he used his skills, though.

“You want to spar a civilian? Go ahead,” I say.

I know this will not be good for me, sure. But I’ve got to prove to both Quintus and Tiberius that I’m no wuss, you know? Taking one for the team and all that. There’s a lot of talk about toxic masculinity back on Earth, but sometimes, taking a beating with a smile on your face in front of your boys is a power move. In fighting circles, it’s a common truth that you can’t always win. Sometimes, you gotta get your ass whooped. As simple as that.

Now, that does not mean I will get myself gravely injured just to make a point.

“No skills, no stabbing. Let’s try not to break anything, shall we?” I say as I take the sword back from Tiberius and gesture for Quintus to give his to Arminius.

“I accept,” Arminius says, all serious, clutching the sword with both hands and holding it in a raised stance.

“What’s all this hate for Humans, by the way?” I say, slowly circling.

“Filthy bastards like you shouldn’t be polluting Lucerna.”

Lucerna?

Was that the name of the kingdom? Hell, I suppose my memory didn’t exactly come back, did it?

Whatever.

Arminius is much more conservative than Quintus, and he advances very slowly. I feint a swing and try to–

“OUCH!” Arminius ignored my feint and swung hard at my arm. I drop my sword to the ground and hiss, holding my arm. “Jesus, that hurts,” I say.

The Elf smirks at me, reveling in my pain.

“Is this all you have, Human?”

“Arminius,” Tiberius says.

“It’s fine, Tib!” I slowly pick up my sword and look at the half-blinded man.

“What is it exactly that you don’t like about me?” I ask as we start circling each other again. “I mean if you want to be speciesist against Humans, all good. But what about the individuals? What have I done to irritate you? I could have given you a haircut too.”

“Haircut? Do you think I would let your filthy hands touch me, Worm?” Arminius spits the words with hate. “Humans are a treacherous bunch. I have no intention of mixing with any of you!”

This time, instead of waiting for him, I move forward. I parry his first attack, but before I can realize it, he sweeps my legs from below. I’m on the ground again, fallen painfully to my back.

As I lay on the ground, trying to catch my breath, I can see Arminius standing over me, his blade raised high.

I try to get up as quickly as possible. Even before I’m fully up, he strikes, and I roll to the side, narrowly avoiding his downward strike, and spring back to my feet. This time, I'm more cautious, and I keep my guard up, ready for his next attack.

He comes at me again, his sword flashing in the light, but I'm prepared... or not.

I end up with my ass on the grass again and a future bruise on my other arm.

I can see the hate and contempt in his eyes, and I know he wants nothing more than to kill me.

“Oof,” I say as I get up again under the man’s gloating one-eyed gaze.

“You know, Arminius,” I say, rubbing the still tender arm, “you are beating the living bejizzle out of me, right? And I don’t feel any anger toward you as a result. But if you–”

This time, the guy comes running. Unlike Quintus, he seems to have a much better grasp on depth and swings at my side. I parry, but there’s much more strength than I had anticipated in his attack.

…

Quintus extends a hand to me. My body hurts everywhere, now with several bruises brewing under my skin. Arminius is panting. But as he looks over at the other homeless people who came to take a look at what was going on, there are only scowls pointed in his direction.

“Ouch,” I say as I rub one of my arms. I put a hand in my bag of holding and uncork a health potion that Flaminia had me buy after I told her about the accident at my place.

I look at the potion for a second, reminded of something more important than this little skirmish.

“Yo, Arminius,” I say as I can see even more resentment brewing in the eyes of the guy. “Thanks for the pointers. If I ever become a fighter - which is very unlikely - I might benefit from this beating. You know your stuff, even without an eye.”

I turn and start walking away from the scene so that he doesn’t have to say anything else and so that other people won’t gang up on him in front of me. It makes no sense to make resentful people hate you even more.

“Why did you get yourself beaten up like this, Joey?”

I look at Quintus, thinking how curious it is for him to call me Joey in moments like this. Well, at least the beating had an inkling of a purpose, it seems.

“Meh, he probably needed it. Sometimes, it’s good for people to get a mostly innocuous valve to vent their problems. The guy is missing fingers, an eye, and a house. I got a few bruises from this, but I’m still better off–and that’s not to diss him, okay? I’m just saying that if someone needs to punch me in the face to feel better, as long as it’s not those other idiotic [Soldiers], let them do it. They made these for a reason.”

I point to the health potion I just got out of the bag before downing it.

“We served together with him,” Tiberius explains. “He’s a nasty warrior. He was one of the best. He got injured while culling a Dungeon spill. He was in a special force affiliated with the military. He’s much better at combat than we are. When you fight monsters, you need to be if you want to survive.”

“That sucks.”

“Anyway, you two should wash yourselves, and then, I have a little proposal for you. And don’t worry. I guarantee I will make it worth your while.”

...

“You insulted the most famous [Baker] in Amorium,” Tiberius said, glancing at Quintus at his side.

“That was fucking stupid,” Quintus scoffs, “will you be able to keep taking bread from them? And how does that work, even? Why are they giving you all that bread?”

“I’m making a lot of bread money, that’s why,” I say to the aggressive Elf with my custom wink. “I knocked you out, and I have never really fought in my entire life. Think what I can do in my field of expertise, huh?”

I don’t like boasting, but I do need to appear confident for their sake.

“But you said you don’t have levels,” Tiberius dries off his hair with a towel as I nod. “Yep. I don’t have any levels in cooking-related classes. Only a few in [Light Mage].”

“You accepted the [Light Mage] class?!” Quintus’s eyes go wide.

“Jesus, why does everyone react like that? Let me be–I didn’t intend to become a [Mage] anyway. It’s just a hobby. And it’s a hobby I’m leaving behind.”

“Joey,” Tiberius says with a serious tone. “It doesn’t matter how many levels you have or what classes you own. Whatever you need, we’ll help you out. As long as it’s not illegal.”

“Oh, no, it’s not illegal. It’s just… a cooking class, you could argue.”

A big smile spreads on my face, but before I can say anything else, I hear someone shout.

“Claudius is here to fix the Runes!”