Chapter 29: Strength

John clenched his teeth as he stared at the fox woman Fate called Kit. It was strange. John hadn’t felt any energy coming from the fox, and he considered himself to be pretty good at sensing the energy of others. Part of taking unlosable fights was knowing how strong your opponent was. He’d never even given the fox a second look in its animal form, but now…

He hadn’t met anyone other than the Demon King who could take this one on.

“Oh, dear. It seems I wasn’t considerate of those around me.”

Kit’s mouth curved upwards into a mischievous grin, and John’s heart sank. Any other time, he might’ve enjoyed an interaction with this type of [Character], but he really wasn’t feeling it right now.

The fox introduced herself with a bow.

“My name is Kit Ninetails. Des- Fate’s mentor, teacher, and partner. But, most of all, a Mythic of the Ninetails clan.”

There was a brief silence, but John was confused. Was that it? He felt like she was supposed to say something impressive. No one said anything, so he turned to see Prota staring with wide eyes.

“Sorry… a what?”

Everyone stared at him.

“Oh, come on, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Is it that big of a deal?”

“Are you kidding? You just asked about one of the most powerful beings on the continent. You don’t know what a Mystic is?”

“What, so she’s a god?”

Kit continued to stare at him, but unlike Fate and Prota, her expression was more amusement than surprise. After a while, she unexpectedly burst out into laughter.

“I’ve been watching you, but it seems there’s still so much about you that I don’t understand,” Kit said, sobering up. She eyed him up and down as if looking for a prospective partner. “You’re interesting, aren’t you?”

“At least I’m not a ripoff of ■■■■■■■”

“...huh?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

The fox frowned, but after a bit, she seemed to let it drop.

“Well, I apologize for my rude remarks. As an apology, I’ll give an explanation, just for you.”

John nodded. And waited. And waited some more. Kit just stood there and smile, her tail flickering back and forth.

“Oh. I see. Good one. We’ve got a comedian over here, a real funny guy. Come on, Prota, let’s go home.”

“Oh?” Kit’s smile grew wider.

In an instant, she dashed towards John, the force of the wind blowing his hood off. He continued to stare at her with a bored expression. She was fishing for a reaction, but she wasn’t even getting a nibble. It was a matter of patience, and it seemed John was winning.

“You truly are curious,” Kit giggled. “Don’t worry, I really will explain this time.”

John shrugged. “Uh, sure. But, um…” he glanced at Prota, who was still lying on his lap.

Fate was feeding her a potion, so she’d recovered, but it was probably better to let her rest, right?

“John,” she muttered. “I’m ok.”

He looked at her with concerned eyes, but she nodded. She wasn’t just telling him she was ok. She was telling him to stay and listen.

“Alright, I guess we’ve got a bit of time. So, explain?”

“I can assume that you know what mana beasts are, at least, right?”

“Uh… why don’t you explain? Just as a reminder of sorts.”

Once again, everyone stared at John as if he’d just told her that he needed to think about breathing. Did he not know any of this?

“What’s wrong with being a shut-in?”

“You were a shut-in? In this world? How did you even manage that?” Fate said.

“Hey. Don’t judge.”

Kit just stared at John. Sure, she found him interesting, but there was a difference between peculiar and pitiable, and John was slowly moving toward pitiable.

“I- uh, hm. Well, mana beasts are a bit different from regular beasts. Certain animals have a certain affinity with mana that allows them to absorb and use it. In short, they are beasts that can use magic. However, not all beasts that can absorb magic do so. This is what differentiates between a beast and a mana beast.”

John nodded. “Makes sense.”

“A little bit of history now. The gods, Celeste, Solaria, Gaia and Luna, needed help taking care of the world. Due to some rules, they are incapable of directly descending and altering the world. As a result, they granted divinity to exactly two of every mana beast.”

John nodded again, but his ears perked up upon hearing two things.

One, there were four gods, not one, although the way Kit had said “Celeste” made him think that this Celeste was the head honcho, with the other three subservient to her. Besides, there was a clear message behind the names.

Solaria, the sun. Luna, the moon. Gaia, the earth, and Celeste. The [Author] hadn’t made it discreet.

Second, and this was the more important thing, was that the gods couldn’t directly descend. That was good. Very good. While he’d had his fair share of god-slaying, in his current state, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be doing something like that. He sure hoped he wouldn’t have to run into any godlike beings, including this Kit woman in front of him.

“Those mana beasts gained bipedal form. The form of the gods. Their intelligence and magic skills exploded exponentially, to the point where they could contest with dragons. These were the first Mythics. Each type of Mythic had children, and those children had children, and they all eventually formed clans.”

It was pretty straightforward. Thankfully, Kit hadn’t gone into history or politics or anything, which would’ve taken an absurd amount of time to cover.

John nodded. “I can figure out the rest, thanks. So, you’re a Mythic?”

Kit smirked. “What, are you finally in awe of the power before you?”

“Not particularly. How old are you?”

A little bit of killing intent leaked out of Kit, just enough to get the message through. “It’s not polite to ask a lady’s age.”

“You’re like, a hundred or something, right?”

Kit turned back to Fate, who shrugged.

“Just how closely have you been observing Fate? No, even then, you couldn’t have known that I was a Mystic, so just what are you…?”

“Huh? What, was I close?” John grinned.

Kit’s grin disappeared.

“Do… do I look old?” She turned to Fate and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him. “Fate! Did I turn into some kind of granny? Quick, do you have a mirror?”

“Wha- wha- stop it- no, you look the same. Like, seventeen, eighteen?”

Kit turned to John with a truly curious look.

“Are you sure you’re not part of the Owlin clan?”

“The what?”

“Another clan of Mythics,” Kit explained. “Although, I can guess what you’re about to say next.”

“Yeah. I’m human.”

Kit looked to Fate, who nodded.

“...how interesting,” Kit grinned, licking her lips. “You’re almost just as interesting as your sister.”

“So, how old are you?”

Prota gasped as Kit suddenly lunged forwards, an incredibly hot fireball in her hand. It stopped just mere inches before John’s face, but John didn’t flinch.

“Really, you never cease to amaze me.”

“Are you gonna answer my question?”

“Why do you care so much?” Kit said with a laugh.

“Just curious.”

Fate nodded.

“...then how old are you?” Kit tried in return.

John shrugged.

“Dunno.”

Fate nodded again.

“You don’t know?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you guess?”

“...no?”

Fate shook his head.

“It’s not very nice to lie.”

“Look, it’s hard to measure time and shit. Besides, you’re just gonna end up calling me a liar.”

“Try me,” Fate said.

“Then… like, ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Something like that, probably. Honestly, I don’t remember, so it’s a bit hard to tell.”

There was a moment of silence.

“...hey,” Fate called out. “I thought you were human.”

Kit whirled around to look at Fate, her eyes shooting a questioning look. This man was telling the truth?

“I am, though?”

“You’re definitely not a normal human.”

“Neither are you,” John pointed out.

“That’s not what I meant,” Fate said. “What the hell are you?”

“I’m John. We went over this already. I can’t give you an answer better than that.”

“...”

The cave went dead quiet.

Fate looked away. “Fine. We will have another talk, though. I don’t know how you know so much about me, but… well, whatever.”

John turned back to Kit. “Anyways, how old are you?”

“Why do you care so much? Can you drop the question?”

“Oh? Yeah, sure.”

Kit just stared at John. “...really?”

“It’s not like you ever asked me to stop. If you want me to stop, then yeah, sure.”

The fox paused, then burst out laughing.

“I see! Fate, please tell me we’ll see more of this kid.”

“But I thought you didn’t like him?”

“Didn’t like him? He’s hilarious!” Kit giggled. “I’ve never had someone stand so calmly before me!”

“...you’re weird.”

“You. The reincarnator. You’re the one saying that?”

John sighed. The two seemed to have a relationship similar to that of Zero and himself. While he didn’t mind it, an argument could last quite a while, and he didn’t feel like waiting that long.

“Anyways, let’s go back to the start. You said you were going to teach Prota. But, are you a good teacher?”

Kit smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “You see that boy over there?”

Fate flinched as he was brought into the conversation.

“I taught him much of what he knows about fighting and quite possibly everything he knows about magic.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“...so?”

“If you think you’re so qualified to find a good teacher, then beat him.”

“You’re asking a coreless person to fight against someone like that?”

“You can surrender now if you want.”

“Hey, what about my opi-” Fate started, but Kit covered his mouth - or at least where his mouth should’ve been - silencing him.

“So? How about it?”

John was about to say no. Fate was the [Protagonist], after all. What was the point in fighting? Even if Fate weren’t the [Protagonist], John would probably lose anyway.

[Hey, take the fight.]

John frowned as the massage popped up in his system.

“Uh… gimme a sec to think.”

John slowly took Prota’s head off his lap, walked over to a wall, and sat down.

[What?]

[You want Fate on your team because he’s the [Protagonist], right? The [Plot] treats people with his identifier with favour. On the other hand, [Antagonists] tend to lose. This is-]

[I already know what [Character Intertia] is. Get on with it.]

Fate was rolling his shoulders, getting ready for the fight. John should’ve been doing the same, but his focus was entirely on Zero’s lesson.

[Certain characters have certain traits, depending on their position in the story, which solidifies their chances of winning or losing in a conflict. You lack said trait, because you don’t have a role in the story to begin with. An [Anomaly]. That’s you.]

[Yeah, I saw that in Prota’s [Character Profile]. You explained this already, someone who isn’t supposed to exist in the story. Gonna type some more? Or is that it?]

[Anomalies are not affected by [Story Inertia]. That is all I can tell you. In short… think of this as “reality.” Where the battle is determined by “you.” There is no predetermined winner or loser. Fate’s role as the [Protagonist] isn’t going to help him here. The only person who can determine the outcome is you.]

John wanted to ask more about Prota, but he left it alone. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his fist, then slowly let his breath out as his hands fell to his side, limp.

[This is your power. [Anomaly]. Someone with no predetermined fate.]

[That’s bullshit. I’ve been dancing in the palm of the [Author’s] hands this whole time.]

[...it’s a little complicated. This was a story before you came here, but now that you’re here, the [Plot] has changed. John, your existence itself is something that shouldn’t be here. You don’t have a predetermined role. That’s you.]

[My predetermined role is to suffer.]

[What does that have to do with whether you win or lose?]

John hesitated, but what else was there to say? He got up, stretched, and walked over reluctantly. If the fight was determined by skill, then he would still lose. Zero had hyped him up for nothing.

“Yeah, I’ll fight him. But I’ll do it-”

He was about to say “later,” but then felt a tug on the hem of his hoodie. He looked down to see Prota looking up at him with shining eyes.

“...you want me to fight? Really?”

“Mm.”

“I’m going to get my ass handed to me.”

Prota looked at John with genuine confusion in her eyes. He wasn’t that weak, right?

“Seriously?”

Prota nodded. Her energy was starting to come back to her as her wounds healed. She got up and walked over to the wall, providing space for John and Fate to fight.

“Goddammit…”

John got up and brushed his pants off, then looked at Fate with an exasperated look.

“You really want to do this?”

Fate shrugged. “I’m ok with it.”

John sighed. “Fine. Hey, you guys aren’t worried about that guard outside?”

Kit shook her head. “I’ve cast a simple mirage spell. It’ll look normal here. You don’t think I’m capable of something as simple as that?”

“Of course you did,” John grumbled, his last possible excuse gone.

He bounced up and down a few times to loosen up, getting his blood warm and pumping. He was contemplating whether to ask to use the washroom. It would probably work, since it seemed to be an effective strategy in a [Story], but he wasn’t ready to stoop that low just yet.

“Well, ready when you are.”

Prota was sitting cross legged, watching with interest as Kit sat on her head. Somehow, the Mystic had reverted to fox form and had convinced Prota to let her head become a chair. John shook his head. He was getting distracted.

Unlike Fate, John’s posture was relaxed and full of openings. It was almost as if he wasn’t taking the fight seriously. But this was the most serious he’d ever be. His posture wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“Are you giving up now?”

“No. Just start.”

“...fine.”

Fate’s muscles tensed, and then he sprung forward, ready to deliver a powerful blow. His fist never collided with anything, though. As soon as Fate moved, John leaned a little to the right. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough. And that was all he needed. The saying “a miss is as good as a mile” was really coming into play here.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Fate wasn’t fazed in the slightest and quickly regained his composure, sweeping low, forcing John to jump up and dodge. However, once again, there was no tension or rush in his movements. They were all calm, almost lazy, as if he couldn’t be bothered to put in more than the bare minimum.

“You’re pretty good,” Fate commented.

“...is that really something you should be telling me?”

It was time for the counterattack. Fate rushed in again, and instead of dodging, John blocked with the intention of taking the hit in order to return a stronger one. He immediately regretted it. The difference in strength was just too much. Blocking did nothing when Fate’s attack just blew right through John’s defense.

“Kh-!” John gasped as he was pushed back. His arms stung. “You’re strong for a little kid. Are you sure you’re not using magic or something?”

“No. Maybe you’re just too old,” Fate taunted.

“Hey, ok, maybe I’m a little old, but I’m not that old. Besides, haven’t you ever seen those old grandpas in shows and shit?”

His legs tensed up, and for the first time, he rushed in.

“They’re usually pretty damn strong.”

John had barely trained in all his years of existence. There was no special technique of his, no custom fighting style, nothing like that. It wasn’t like it was impossible for him to train. He had the time. He was just too lazy to do so, and so he’d never really developed a proper style. Anyone who knew anything about fighting would’ve called his movements sloppy and left, but there was one thing John had more of than almost everyone else.

Experience.

Thousands, even millions, of resets were all a result of battle. John had fought millions of battles, and those were his training sessions, his teachers. Even without practicing, it had to amount to something, right? So while John hadn’t trained, he wasn’t exactly clueless either.

Still, there were something humans were never meant to do. Maybe in fiction, superhuman feats were possible. Maybe you could crack mountains, throw cars and survive nukes with training alone. But that was “fiction.” John was from “reality.” And so no matter how much he trained, the wall known as “fiction” would always exist.

While his experience allowed him to dodge about two thirds of the blows, he was still getting hit. Fate was faster, stronger, and had better technique. It wasn’t perfect, though. John’s style was throwing Fate off a little since there were no clear strengths or weaknesses. After all, it was the result of copying hundreds of other warriors.

But Fate was still stronger.

“Damn!” John grunted as he was pushed back again.

But still…

He looked back at Prota, who was watching with shining eyes. Her fists were clenched as she watched, her eyes not missing a single move. For some reason he still couldn’t understand, she was fascinated with becoming stronger, obsessed with winning and perfection…

“Win,” she whispered, clenching her fists. The fox sitting on her head chuckled softly.

John barely missed it. He didn’t hear it; he saw her lips move, but he read the singular word that escaped them. Win? For what? Still, something felt warm about that one word.

Win.

It didn’t matter why she wanted him to win. He couldn’t just give up now, right?

“Hmph,” John snorted. “Well, one more try. Can’t end on a loss and all that.”

The two backed off, waiting, watching, reading the other’s body, looking for a weakness to exploit, a window of opportunity to take. Both knew. This scuffle would be their last.

John gave a shout, rushing in. He threw a straight punch, which was easily dodged, but that was never his goal in the first place. Fate responded with a clean roundhouse kick, which John barely managed to block. He winced in pain as the blow carried through his arm to his core, but he had to push through.

His left arm, which was currently unused, grabbed Fate’s face as John used the momentum of his blow to keep moving forward, intending to slam Fate’s head into the ground.

“I did it!”

Unfortunately, John didn’t do jackshit.

Fate twisted out of John’s grip and used the moment John had planned to use against him, pushing him forward and causing him to slam into the ground.

~~~

Prota watched in shock as she watched John get slammed into the ground.

John… lost? She thought back. John was strong, wasn’t he? With the goblins, and the bandits, and the…

Oh. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t done that much. Sure, he’d been needed, but… she’d been the one to do all the work? There was that one time he’d fought the demon king, but that was an outlier since his abilities…

To her confusion, she heard Kit chuckle from above. She didn’t get why, but her brain was still spinning. John wasn’t weak. That much was certain. But the image of how he’d dealt with things was being reshaped.

The shift in mentality that had started in the cave was beginning to show her what was really going on. Still, she wanted to know.

“How did John lose?” she said, running over.

“...huh?”

“John was so weak,” Prota said. “Usually, John does something and then the bad guys lose. So why did John…”

Fate looked at John, barely containing his laughter. “Your sister just-”

“Yeah, yeah, shut it.”

“Wait, hold on,” Kit said, still on Prota’s head.

John was surprised that his sister was so comfortable with Kit sitting on her head, but maybe it was ok with animals. He wasn’t prepared for the next question, though.

“Does that mean you weren’t going all out?”

“...” John looked at Prota.

“What did I say about talking about my power?”

“...sorry.”

No words were said, but somehow, the conversation between the two happened anyway. John had to come up with an excuse, and fast.

“Power means different things in different scenarios.”

“What do you mean by that?” Fate said cautiously.

“Well, I mean, consider: I had a gun. I don’t know if you can block bullets, but that could’ve worked. I didn’t use it, though. Because it might’ve killed you, right? But does that mean I’m weak? Strong? You can’t just win a fight and claim you’re the best, that’s not how it works.”

Prota poked John’s stomach. “But John still lost?”

“...damn,” John laughed. “You’re still hooked on that?”

Prota was sure of it now.

The bandits. The goblins. The assassins. Every single time she’d seen John fight, she experienced a sort of strength from him that had always made her want to become stronger. But she wasn’t weak. Maybe she wasn’t strong, but she wasn’t weak.

No, that wasn’t it. Fate was strong, and John was a different kind of strong. Unflinching, never hesitating in decisions, calm and collected… maybe it was just a side effect of the way he was, but he was definitely strong. Just in a very different way.

But he wasn’t perfect, either.

So Prota didn’t need to be perfect, either. She needed to grow in her own way. She listened as John spoke up again.

“Well, that’s what Prota is for, right? I needed someone who could definitely win, no matter what. That’s just not possible yet.”

He sighed, sitting down heavily. Prota walked around, jumping onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Kit, I’m sure you’re a fine teacher. I was just fucking around, but, well, you’re a god, right? Probably can’t ask for anything better than that.”

“...sure.” She couldn’t tell if John was being sarcastic or not.

“No, I’m not kidding. I still don’t really get this whole Mystic thing, but you’re a higher kind of being, right? How do you top that?”

“Then why test me?”

John shrugged. He seemed to be thinking, but no reasonable excuse came to mind.

“Like I said, I was just messing around. Well, maybe I wanted to see something.”

“Like what?”

“Secret :D”

“...how did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You- you made this weird sound, like a smile, I swear you-”

Prota closed her eyes as the two bickered. She was sitting next to a Mythic, and yet she wasn’t afraid. Ever since she was a child, she’d been told about Mythics, and yet now that she was in front of one, the being in question felt more like an older sister than some mysterious, godlike being. That comfort led to a new desire.

She wanted to learn badly. There was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in front of her, and she’d be a fool not to take it.

“Well, all that’s left is to ask Prota what she thinks.”

“You were gonna get her taught, not knowing whether or not she wanted to learn?!” Fate shook his head.

“Let’s just ask her, buddy,” John grumbled.

They all turned to Prota.

“So? How about it?”

The answer was obvious.

“Please, teach me.”