Vol 1 Chapter 8 – Childhood – The Summer at Age Eleven

What the heck is this guy? I was utterly shaken.

It wouldn’t have been surprising if my sword strikes had been parried or deflected in a preliminary exchange—after all, I wasn’t going for a full-power attack or even a serious test.

Yet, as a result, the sword I had been gripping so firmly was suddenly flying through the air, while on the other side, the tip of my opponent’s sword was pressed against my own neck.

And yet—I felt no contact whatsoever from either his sword or his hand.

“How about it?”

“…One more.”

On a real battlefield, that would have meant “game over.” I would have had my carotid artery sliced open, blood spurting like a fountain as I succumbed, drowning in my own demise. Even with a neck-guard or mail, a well-placed thrust into any gap would have sealed my fate.

But I wasn’t satisfied—I demanded one more strike, as if my sword, held in my hand, could never simply vanish like drifting snow.

Calmly, my opponent accepted my challenge, stepped back to reestablish distance, and readied his sword once again.

I picked up the sword I had dropped and gripped its hilt to confirm its presence—as though I doubted that it had merely disappeared from my hand moments ago. And indeed, the drawn training sword was still firmly in my grasp.

Regaining my resolve, I assumed my sword stance. We both held our swords with both hands in a relaxed, unremarkable posture—just a formless stance, the very one we’d learned in our 《Battlefield Swordsmanship》 training.

From my perspective, the opponent—standing so composed—seemed to be riddled with openings. His eyes didn’t appear to be focusing, and his somewhat slouched body looked completely relaxed.

And yet, there was an overwhelming sense of incongruity. Even though I was watching him intently, he seemed almost invisible; his stance left only a growing sense of urgency.

To counter that, I threw myself into my strike. My well-practiced Thunder Sword—an overhead slash I had repeated countless times—failed to even graze his forehead.

For some reason, the opponent’s subsequent strike, which I expected to be forceful, instead removed my sword with a surprisingly gentle touch. As if by sheer precision, the tip of his blade halted, paper-thin, just in front of my forehead.

Had this been a real duel, my head would have been split in two. Considering the sharpness of that strike—even if I had been protected by a helmet—there’d be no guarantee my head would have remained intact. I might have simply blacked out as my neck was casually severed, or my vision obliterated by a gash in my forehead and a torrent of blood.

I was, without a doubt, about to be killed.

Swallowing hard, I conceded defeat.

And yet, my initial thought—“What the heck is this guy?”—only grew stronger.

I had never been arrogant enough to claim I was the strongest. After seven long years under my sword master and superior, Lambert, never having won a single bout—and even surrendering during a three-man free sparring session—I had long accepted that, as a warrior and self-defense corps member, I was nothing more than average.

Even so, it was extraordinary. After seven years of relentless training, repeatedly standing against the manor’s threats and surviving, and twice answering the lord’s call to join the army, I was completely bested by an eleven-year-old brat.

Moreover, according to my own sensibilities, this wasn’t an ordinary duel. Could it really be possible to disarm an opponent with a single strike, without injuring his fingers?

Yet, no matter how many times I looked, his sword was pressed against my face while mine had been flipped and rolled behind me.

“Well… I yield.”

Trapped between a strange sensation and sheer dread, I broke out in a cold sweat as I looked at that slender-faced boy—who hadn’t even shed a drop of sweat himself.

Erich, the fourth son of Johannes. Somehow, it made sense why only Lambert trained him and wouldn’t let him spar with anyone else.

In short, I had been coddled all along—my seven-year pride as a self-defense corps member shielded from the full brunt of combat.

“…Is he a monster or what?”

Yet, my misfortune came when that very boy, who had been practicing on his own thinking “Maybe I’ll wrestle him a bit,” got involved. He ended up squandering the care my master had afforded me.

I even wondered what would have happened if this weren’t a sword-only duel—but with shields or even spears—but even in my imagination, I was so utterly beaten that not a single sword was gained. I no longer felt even a scrap of the will to train a newcomer.

Suppressing my frustration, I muttered a curse and turned my back on that child, who boasted an almost unearthly strength…

––––––

What is the pinnacle moment of a Data Manchi?

It’s when you slam down your honed data and see that “What the heck is this guy?” expression on your opponent’s face.

It’s been about two years since I started participating in self-defense corps training. As a candidate, I spend my free time after my family duties sparring with Lambert, and, astonishingly, the very act of fighting has rapidly built up my proficiency.

Perhaps it’s because you absorb countless risks, think in complex ways, and pour every bit of yourself into the battle—attacking, evading, defending, and when struck, relying on falling or damage control to deflect the blow. In an instant, countless judgments and deductions are made, distilling life’s outcome into the blink of an eye.

My proficiency now stocks at a rate incomparable to before, and—as always—my bad habit rears its head when I see my wallet swelling with winnings.

Even though my future path hasn’t been decided yet, in these past two years, the 《Battlefield Swordsmanship》 I learned from my master has reached a state of consummate maturity.

Yeah, sorry again, me. But having a means to protect myself in these times isn’t wasted—in a voice trembling with both excitement and apprehension.

The battlefield sword—wielded amid chaotic melees—is rough but straightforward and easy to handle. It’s not about flash; it’s all about simply cutting down your enemy and moving on.

Above all, its design takes into account group battles, whether one-versus-many or many-versus-many. It even considers positioning for defensive battles and fighting alongside allies, making it extremely versatile.

Along with that, I’ve acquired various traits and skills.

This is where Manchi truly shines—our domain is to wreak havoc by combining various elements. One might as well blame the god who granted Manchi its chimera-like system that allows for “nibbling” on different aspects.

What especially caught my eye—and which I knew would undoubtedly cause trouble—was this:

《Ethereal Elegance & Exquisiteness》
A trait that repurposes exceptional 《dexterity》 for other techniques. It grants bonus checks for those using the 《dexterity》 stat, and can even convert checks that normally use other stats to use 《dexterity》 instead.

While many systems allow a standout stat to be applied to different checks, this one has a unique flair. In swordsmanship and martial arts, formulas typically combine several stats like 《strength》 and 《explosiveness》, but it seems 《Ethereal Elegance & Exquisiteness》 converts them all into 《dexterity》.

If, hypothetically, the hit calculation for an overhead strike is based on 《dexterity》 and 《explosiveness》, and the damage is derived from 《strength》 and 《dexterity》, then this skill replaces all instances of 《explosiveness》 and 《strength》 with 《dexterity》.

In other words, it’s an insanely efficient skill that effectively squares my strongest stat.

The idea is that with refined technique, minimal strength and speed are sufficient—almost the essence of true finesse. Admittedly, it might be over the top.

At present, I’ve boosted my 《dexterity》 stat to an “A” level by pouring an enormous amount of proficiency into side jobs for pocket money. Only two higher ratings exist, but aiming higher now would require proficiency levels that make even the grind in social games look trivial—so I’ve put that on hold.

Furthermore, 《Ethereal Elegance & Exquisiteness》 has another game-breaking element.

It allows me to combine one of my other skills that already uses 《dexterity》 checks with a skill from a different category.

It was a combo-game system from the start, and this only accelerates the combo. And naturally, those who try to cherry-pick skills from other jobs or classes in a combo-focused system always end up causing chaos. It’s exactly why they warn against making the “killer class” playable—a fact I now embody.

I favor a combo where I integrate 《Disarming》 (a martial arts skill from the unarmed category) into my attacks to seize an opponent’s weapon and neutralize them.

Among the basic unarmed self-defense techniques, 《Disarming》 is a low-cost skill—allowing me to increase proficiency more efficiently than clumsily countering—and by linking it with 《Ethereal Elegance & Exquisiteness》 to forcefully produce a high check value, its success rate becomes remarkably high.

Above all, the debuff of losing one’s weapon on the battlefield is enormous. If you only train in weapon-based martial arts, you end up as a trivial opponent easily overcome in any contest.

In the future, I plan to combine it with other skills that impose additional debuffs…

As I was thinking all this, I sensed a presence behind me—a presence so faint that without a delicate scent carried by the wind, I might have completely missed it.

I tried to sidestep it by shifting my body half a step… but then I realized belatedly that the presence had feinted—deliberately letting me notice its approach and forcing me into an evasive action that narrowed my options.

From a small feint jump, it shifted into a genuine leap, its presence reaching for my neck. And then, that hand grasped my neck…

“Greetings?”

At that moment, a small body wrapped itself around in front of me. Whether it was due to exquisite control of grip or simply because she moved so skillfully, I felt no pain. Even after two years, Margit’s dazzling smile—untarnished by the passage of youth—slid into view from behind.

“So, just come at me normally…”

“It’s our agreement. With this, my record stands at 134 wins and 140 losses—I’ve finally managed to claw back a few wins.”

Dangling like a necklace, Margit rubbed her head against my developing chest like a cat as she laughed.

Our relationship remained unchanged. As childhood friends, there was always a hint that something might eventually blossom between us. Well, considering the entire manor consists of childhood friends, it’s hardly surprising.

I, too, have lived nearly 40 years since my previous life. I’ve even had my share of romantic encounters, so I can somewhat guess how she sees me.

There’s no doubt she likes me. After all, I’m the only one who has her clinging to my back like a backpack—or launching such back attacks.

But her youthful appearance, paired with an inexplicable, alluring charm that defies it, makes my emotional direction hard to control. I simply can’t decide how I should regard her.

While I was still uncertain about her, Margit laughed merrily and spoke up, her fluent courtly language coming as naturally as breathing.

“Hey, hey—did you hear?”

“What about?”

Taking her vague question in stride…

“Your brother, it seems—he’s engaged.”

I couldn’t help but choke and burst into laughter.

“Hey, that’s not cool!?”

Margit immediately switched back to normal Imperial language. Positioned so that she inevitably caught my outburst on her face—and with her arms wrapped around my neck, delivering a direct hit—I couldn’t even complain if she buried her face in my chest to wipe it off.

“Sorry… but Heinz, your older brother, is engaged!?”

It was completely new to me. Well, in our cramped manor, it’s common for the parents to decide such matters when the children near adulthood. I’m eleven, so my brother Heinz is fourteen. Next year he’ll reach adulthood and be officially allowed to marry, so such news isn’t entirely unexpected.

But why did she learn about it before I, one of the actual parties involved?

“Yep. He’s engaged to Mina.”

Mina was one of the kids I used to play with just a few years ago. Understandably, she hasn’t come around to play since last year—probably due to bride-training or helping with family affairs—but there had never been any hint of such with my brother.

In other words, it seems our families arranged it…

“I guess girls really do catch wind of these things faster.”

“Well, partly—but Heinz was also quite popular.”

Oh? It was the first time I’d heard that our older brother was popular. Granted, I might be biased as his little brother, but he does take after Father with his rugged features. Now that he’s entering his growth spurt and becoming solidly built, he’s starting to exude a reliable aura. Even if whispers about his dating life began circulating unnoticed…

“He’s the eldest son of a respectable family, and his family is quite well-off.”

I see.

I nearly tripped, still having her clinging to my neck, as an inexplicable sense of desolation drained the strength from my knees.

Sure, our family is a modest, self-sufficient farming one—but we’re rather prosperous. Even my next older brother, Mikhail, is sent to private school, which speaks volumes about our earnings. Once again, I had to yield, using something Margit had taught me as an excuse, but when Father insisted that, with a little extra effort, I could even have you join, it confirmed just how well-off we truly are.

The fields we started expanding six years ago are rich and yield stable harvests; with even one fine draft horse, our olive groves are steadily increasing their harvestable yield.

Come to think of it, Father also mentioned that the game pieces mass-produced in side jobs for proficiency farming, along with that series of self-carved statuettes, have been selling for quite good prices. I suppose that was all part of his proposal.

But an engagement… an engagement, huh…

“Is something wrong?”

I slumped my head in resignation as Margit peered at my face and asked. Unsure of what to say but unable to remain silent, I spilled my inner thoughts.

“I guess I need to rethink my future…”

A weighty issue now hung before me.

 【Tips】In the Line Mie Empire, family succession, appointments to public office, and formal employment can only occur after reaching adulthood at fifteen. However, there are loopholes—such as serving as an apprentice or assistant—that allow one to work before then.