Vol 1 Chapter 9 – Teacher, and Student【Vol 1: The Hero Awakens】 

“…Did we… do it…?”

The first to speak was Master Glen.

Disbelief was written all over his face.

“Yes. We won.”

The moment I said it, a beat of silence—then cheers burst out like a dam breaking, echoing through the whole village.

“WOOOOOOO!”

“We won! We beat that monster!”

“No way… it wasn’t just Master Glen—those two, too…!”

The villagers—and the dojo students—came rushing over to us.

Everyone wore that mix of adrenaline and relief, throwing praise at us from every direction.

“Fuyuya! You’re insane, man!”

“Lilia, you did great too!”

In the middle of all that chaos, only Lilia stood there frozen, staring at me.

(Who… what is this guy, anyway…?)

Her eyes, filled with shock, practically said it out loud.

(Yeah, that tracks.)

Normally, there’s no way some drifter newbie knows a mid-boss’s weaknesses inside and out.

I pretended not to notice her stare and just watched the villagers bask in the afterglow of victory.

This should mean we avoided Lilia’s tragic fate.

If things had gone like the original story, Master would’ve been crippled with injuries he’d never recover from, the dojo would’ve been finished, and she would’ve been sold as a slave.

The fact that I’d changed that future made me let out a quiet breath of relief.

“Fuyuya, you…”

Master Glen—still buzzing—grabbed my shoulder with a solid clamp. His grip strength was, as you’d expect from a swordsman, completely ridiculous.

“Why that level of tactics…? It was like you read every move it made. And that weak point… even I didn’t notice it. Why…?”

“…I just watched carefully. Its movements had a tiny habit.”

I gave the answer I’d prepared in advance.

(Like I can say I have original-story knowledge. I have to sell this as ‘I’m just sharp.’)

Master probably wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Still, he didn’t press further, only letting out an impressed, “…I see. That’s one hell of an eye.”

That was when—

“Fuyuya-san.”

Lilia, who’d been silent this whole time, stepped in front of me like she’d made up her mind.

Her straight, honest eyes pinned me in place.

“Who are you, really?”

“Who am I…? Just a drifter.”

“That’s a lie! A normal drifter couldn’t possibly have a perfect grasp of the Orc Leader’s weak point and behavior pattern! Those instructions back then… it was like you could see the future…!”

(Ugh… yeah, I can’t wriggle out of this completely.)

The force in her voice wasn’t just curiosity.

Awe—and a tiny bit of fear.

A raw, fundamental question aimed at the existence called “me,” the guy who’d led them to victory with logic she couldn’t understand.

“…You’re overthinking it. I just got lucky.”

“Lucky…?”

“Yeah. I noticed the weak point by coincidence, and by coincidence, Master and you had the skill to exploit it. That’s all. If it was just me, there was nothing I could’ve done.”

I said it and forced myself to laugh like it was no big deal.

It wasn’t “my” achievement. We won because Master and Lilia had the swords to make it happen.

At that, Lilia’s expression wavered, just a little.

“…Lilia. Fuyuya may be right. But the one who pulled that ‘luck’ in was Fuyuya’s tactical eye. That was splendid.”

With Master throwing me a lifeline, Lilia seemed to ease off for the moment.

But the light of doubt in her eyes still hadn’t gone away.

(Yeah… can’t blame her. I’ll just have to earn her trust over time.)

As if flipping a switch in my head, I turned to the two of them.

“Master, Lilia. Your swordwork was incredible. Even if I have the knowledge, I can’t swing a blade like that.”

I meant it.

No matter how well you hit the weak point or lower resistance, it’s meaningless if you don’t have the power to execute.

Master’s heavy strike and Lilia’s sharp thrust—both of them were skills way beyond what an ordinary person could ever imitate.

This time, Lilia made a small, startled face at my words.

“…Your tactics were amazing too.”

“Right? So— I’ve got a proposal.”

“A proposal?”

“Yeah. Lilia, your talent with the sword is the real deal. But there’s a more efficient way to fight.”

I replayed the Orc Leader battle in my head, searching for the right words.

“For example—how you pull a monster’s attention… its ‘hate’… and how you let it slip. How you spot the ‘wind-up’ before an attack comes. Stuff like that—techniques specialized for fighting monsters.”

“‘Hate’…? ‘Wind-up’…?”

Hearing words she wasn’t used to, Lilia tilted her head.

(Crap. I just said game terms out loud.)

“Uh… I mean, one person takes the enemy’s attention, and the other guy hits it in the opening. Like what I did in the Orc Leader fight.”

“…I see. But something like that… it wasn’t in any book.”

“Of course not. It’s stuff I picked up here and there from different adventurers a long time ago.”

It was a flimsy excuse, but I didn’t have a better one.

Lilia still looked half-convinced, but she must’ve remembered how absurdly precise my instructions had been during the Orc Leader fight—because a strong curiosity started lighting up in her eyes.

“…On the other hand, I’ve got a request too.”

I said it, then looked straight into Lilia’s eyes.

“I still don’t have any sword fundamentals at all. Like you saw, I’m basically just swinging it around. So… Lilia, I want you to teach me the sword.”

“Eh…? M-Me… teaching you…?”

It must’ve been unexpected. Lilia’s eyes went wide, and she looked up at her father beside her.

Master Glen folded his arms and let out a low “Hmmm,” then finally gave a grin.

“Interesting. Fine. Lilia, be Fuyuya’s teacher. It’ll be good experience for you too.”

“Father…! …Yes, I understand!”

With her father’s approval, Lilia nodded firmly.

“But in exchange… Fuyuya-san—no, Fuyuya. Will you teach me those tactics you know, too?”

“Of course. Deal.”

And just like that, a strange master-disciple relationship was born between me and Lilia.

I’d teach Lilia tactics for hunting monsters, and she’d teach me the fundamentals of swordsmanship.

A relationship where we were each other’s teacher—and each other’s student.

◇◆◇

Starting the next day, our special training began.

In the daytime at the dojo, under Lilia’s instruction, I did nothing but swing a wooden sword.

“No, Fuyuya! Your footwork is stiff! Grab the ground more with your toes!”

“Like this?”

“Yes! From that stance, cut using only your hip rotation!”

Clang!

A dry sound echoed through the dojo.

Lilia’s instruction was shockingly precise—and easy to understand.

(Of course. She’s the heroine. She’s even good at teaching. At this rate, I might actually improve fast.)

My sword swings became more refined by the minute.

A sword I’d only ever muscled around before was slowly—steadily—starting to feel like part of my body.

And between practice, and later after sunset during our sit-down study time—this time, it was my turn to be the teacher.

“Listen, Lilia. When goblins attack in groups, there’s always one leader-type that moves first. If you read that one and take it out immediately, the rest lose coordination all at once.”

“Leader-type…? How do you even tell?”

“There’s an easy way. It’s the one with slightly better gear than the others. Or, it’s just a little bigger—only by a tiny amount.”

“That wasn’t in any book…”

“Books aren’t everything. What matters is knowledge earned in real combat.”

I fed her Arks Ende strategy info like it was my own hard-won experience.

Monster weak points, behavior patterns, the most efficient ways to gather materials.

At first she was startled, but my explanations were so specific and rational that her eyes gradually started to shine as she listened.

The swordsmanship she’d learned from her father was, above all, meant for fighting people.

My knowledge, specialized for “anti-monster” combat, was a real eye-opener for her.

A few days of that went by.

We traded knowledge and technique, and our strength rose at a ridiculous pace.

I could tell the fear and doubt in the way Lilia looked at me were fading, replaced by pure respect.

And it wasn’t just her.

Her earnest devotion to the sword—and that clear, unquestionable talent—made me genuinely impressed.

On the way home after training.

Alone, under the moonlight, I raised my Rusty Dagger and replayed today’s forms.

Lilia’s clean, waste-free sword lines were burned into my mind.

(Her swordwork is the real deal. But if that’s all she has, the next time a powerful enemy shows up, the same kind of tragedy will happen again.)

We beat the Orc Leader.

But in the world of Arks Ende, there are still plenty of powerful monsters—and a mountain of unfair events.

No matter how talented Lilia is, there’s definitely a wall she won’t be able to break through with talent alone.

(I’ll raise her into the strongest swordswoman with knowledge. That’s the only thing I can do…)

That was a vow to protect the first “companion” I’d gained in this world.

And it was also a signpost—for my own new life, the one where I decided I’d never let anyone take anything from me again.

I slid the dagger back into its sheath and started walking toward the village where Lilia and the others waited.

How I look in her eyes—what kind of existence “I” am to her.

That’s a story for a little later.