Thwack! I struck the browplate hard. It rattled, and the twig in my hand snapped.
“Oh, would you look at that? Finally broke.” I smirked and tossed the busted thing aside. “Training’s over.”
The kid collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent. We had started training earlier today than yesterday, but he had lasted longer this time. Yesterday, he’d flinched and shied away from my attacks. Today, he’d fought back and kept going until the very end. Even though he’d taken multiple hits, he didn’t give up. That was progress.
Well, closing your eyes when something comes flying at you was just basic instinct. Fighting that instinct takes time, so it was too soon to expect real results. He still needed more training. But since he’d already lasted longer than yesterday, it was best to stop here for today. Pushing him further now wouldn’t help.
“Rest up,” I told him. “Once you can move again, eat something and go sleep in an actual bed. If you just pass out there and catch a cold, don’t expect anyone to take care of you.”
The kid groaned. “Ughhh...”
Good. That meant he was still conscious and didn’t need any help. I left him lying there and walked back into the guild.
“Welcome back.”
“Good work out there.”
Sheya and Chikka were still sitting at the same table. Their plates had already been cleared away, leaving only wooden cups in front of them. Looked like they’d been drinking while waiting. The guild was still lively. Dinner hours were over, but some folks were still eating. Others were drinking and making a ruckus or discussing work for tomorrow. Same as always. It wasn’t that late, and adventurers didn’t usually go to bed early anyway. The noise would keep going for hours.
“So? What’s the verdict with tiny?” Chikka asked, her face flushed from the alcohol. She was clearly tipsy, but I knew from experience that she wasn’t actually drunk. She just turned red easily.
Most scouts either never drank or knew exactly how much they could handle. Chikka was the second type. Sheya, on the other hand, was a different kind of drinker. She sipped her drink as usual, her expression never changing. It was hard to tell with her, since she was always quiet, but I knew she could drink anyone under the table. No matter how much she had, her face never changed color.
I let out a deep sigh. The two of them came here every night because they had nothing better to do. They acted like they were so curious about the kid, but neither of them ever came to watch his training. Would it kill them to show up once in a while?
“The verdict? Who knows?” I scratched my head and took an empty chair. I wasn’t good at calculations, but if I had to score the kid, it would go something like this:
Today, his swings were sloppier than yesterday. He was still pissed about getting dragged around by those two girls. That frustration made his attacks reckless, so minus points for that. At least he was being more decisive, so I’ll give him a tiny bonus. Later on, he finally stopped with the big swings and started mixing in small jabs. Means he was thinking. That’s good. Still, instead of trying to force an opening, he just waited for me to mess up. That won’t cut it. Between the two of us, he’s the one who’s always gonna make a mistake first.
Overall? A complete failure. Trash tier. Final score: zero. But the kid was still just that—a kid. A complete beginner. Weakness was expected. What Chikka and Sheya were actually asking was, would he eventually become strong?
“Hell if I know.” I shrugged. “Never taught anyone before.”
I didn’t bother thinking about it too hard. I wasn’t a teacher, so I wasn’t gonna pretend to have an answer.
There was no way for me to know if he had potential. This was literally my first time trying to teach someone how to fight. And I was teaching a kid, so I didn’t even have anyone to compare him to. The only thing I could do was recycle the same training I’d gone through myself. But even that was hazy in my memory. Some of those drills? I still didn’t understand what they were for. Hell, looking back, some of them felt like I was just being messed with.
Well, at any rate, the browplate-striking drill would take time to kick in. The kid wouldn’t stop closing his eyes for a while yet. That gave me some time to try and remember the other lessons.
None of this really mattered, though. Chikka and Sheya weren’t interested in whether the kid had potential or not. Even I was smart enough to figure that out.
So instead, I told them what they really wanted to know. “He’s a little more cheerful.”
Sheya smirked, Chikka grinned wide, and I ordered myself a drink.