Riposte
Immediately following lunch, the emergency training began. The mandate was simple: prepare for combat without relying on slime swords, to avoid being caught off-guard should they be rendered ineffective. Sherry felt a sense of relief; she was freed from the tiresome task of attempting to conjure a slime sword for the duration of this training. It still meant Sherry had to learn swordsmanship with a metal sword, but this at least saved a step she was having trouble with.
Sherry wondered if the Chameleon artifact could aid in summoning a slime sword, but the risk of exposing her secret in a public setting was too high. So, for the moment, that thought was shelved. With the prospect of slime-based weaponry momentarily discarded, Sherry couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph.
The antacid-induced chaos she had birthed ages ago was having a desired effect, and Shadow Garden was in an uproar. Despite her earlier misadventure during the bandit "ambush", here was tangible evidence that she had still managed to inflict a wound, however minor, on the behemoth that was Shadow Garden. It was almost poetic. She felt a strong urge to applaud herself, as if she had envisioned this exact turn of events back then.
And yet...
"Can you believe that Lord Shadow predicted this?" said one of the Numbers. "He foresaw the weakness in our slime suits, and had everyone learn the sword from the get-go for this exact reason!"
...for some reason, Sherry couldn't muster the confidence to congratulate herself. The incessant praises for Shadow from the other Numbers were really dampening her ego. And beyond that, the revelation of why sword training had been so heavily emphasized rattled her. Doubt crept into her mind, wrapping around her thoughts like a cold tendril.
Did Lord Shadow really predict her antacid ruse? Just when she thought she got one over on Shadow, has he already seen through her every move? Was she, in fact, right where he wanted her all along?
Sherry was starting to feel like she's been dancing in the palm of a master puppeteer this whole time, like she's merely food being played with. The idea that Shadow could have outlined the entire course of her life, not just since he killed her parents, but even at the inception of Shadow Garden, was terrifying.
Sherry's grip on her sword wavered. She swore she could hear Shadow mocking her. She was so distracted that when she swung her sword at the practice dummy, the sword went sailing.
"H-Hey, watch it, 720!" screamed 719, narrowly avoiding the errant weapon.
"Shadow..." The name echoed ominously in her mind, and Sherry found herself struggling for breath.
———
"Achoo!" sneezed I.
Ah, the sneezing trope. It's a classic. It's a sign that someone is talking about you at this very moment.
Or, at least, that's what people say. But trust me, I've done the tests.
"Hey, Pooch?"
Back in my former life, I arranged numerous tape recorders across a variety of locations, biding my time until my next sneeze. I would then laboriously sift through hours of audio footage, but not once did it reveal any chatter about me. On another occasion, I scrawled my name across the classroom whiteboard, hoping it would coax people into talking about me during my absence. Not a single sneeze followed. Once, I even perched myself in a tree, armed with binoculars, quietly whispering about unsuspecting pedestrians below. Only one out of a thousand attempts had anyone ever sneezed, and that guy face-planted on a pepper. I've tried several more variations, but the outcome was clear: sneezes held no power.
"Pooch? Are you even paying attention?"
Honestly, it was a disappointing result. I had hopes that I could set up a covert sneeze-telepathy network, gathering information like a true, bona fide shadowbroker. But alas, I was lied to. Sure, it's great for fiction, but most tales fail to provide any scientific justification for it. I wished I hadn't wasted so much time thinking about it so hard.
"Here you are, zoned out when I'm trying to engage in conversation." Alexia grumbled.
"And here you are, princess, hiding behind your royal status to rough up unsuspecting commoners," I retorted.
"Don't be dramatic. You're not hurt, and besides, it's called sparring. All you have to do is fight back!" Alexia swung her sword, and I bunted it with my own. I utilized a stylish display of Mob-fu to enhance the rebound, catapulting myself halfway across the room.
"See? You're beating me up," I started to smile. I guess I was in a good mood today after my rendezvous with the empty Mitsugoshi, even if Alexia had coerced me into a late-night sparring session.
"Try saying that without your goofy grin next time," Alexia nagged. "You're not even putting any effort into this! Come on, Pooch. I'll even let you have a free hit."
Hitting a princess sounded like a terrible idea for an NPC, even if she's asking for it – really asking for it. If I could, I'd like to demonstrate some of my hand-to-hand combat skills... it's actually my prefer way of fighting to be honest.
I considered teaching Alpha and the others hand-to-hand, but I decided against it since it takes a lot of time to master and even small mistakes can be fatal against an armed foe.
"Fine, I'll take you up on that offer." I said, as I lifted myself off the ground using my sword as a cane.
Suffice to say I got lazy and taught them all the same easy thing: the sword. Or at least, I thought it'd be easy until I had to give up on Delta, who lacked the base intelligence for it, and Gamma, who lacked the intuition for physics, just in general. Eventually, I resorted to cryptic wisdom, telling them, "The sword does not lead; it follows. Know where you're leading it." Which was essentially my way of saying, "Figure it out on your own."
Alpha, who learned the sword from me, felt, for whatever reason, that the sword needed to be the symbol of Shadow Garden or something.
"Yaa!" My voice echoed through the room as I lunged at Alexia, my sword carving a wide obvious arc through the air. As I let Alexia parry it, the resulting momentum 'accidentally' spun me around so that I slammed my shoulder into hers. I made sure the force was just enough to tip her off balance.
"Woah, sorry, princess! I didn't mean to do that." I offered my hand. Alexia regarded me with a resentful glare.
"That was an interesting technique," Alexia mused, dusting herself off after standing up.
"You mean the accidental shoulder-bump?" I questioned, arching an eyebrow like she's crazy.
"Well, obviously, your execution was terrible, but there might be merit when someone with skill does it," Alexia hypothesized. "I swear, Pooch. I'm always learning something new when I spar with you."
"Huh? My sister said something similar before. I'm not sure I appreciate you two learning how to bully me better, though," I countered.
"Hey, princesses don't bully," Alexia asserted, as she puffed up her chest, closed her eyes, and held her hand to her shoulder regally. "I'm just saying that you're a good teacher. They do say 'those who can't do, teach' after all."
Hmm... but I can do, and can't teach. Was it actually because I'm too talented? Maybe I was so far ahead in the race, I lost sight of what it felt like to stumble over the starting line.
———
"Hey, 720. Let me teach you," 718 said, a reassuring calm in her voice that contrasted with Sherry's frenetic energy. She moved behind Sherry and, gently but firmly, guided her hands to the correct positions.
"First, grip the hilt with your left hand, your main hand." She adjusted Sherry's left hand to wrap around the textured grip of the sword, her knuckles facing outward. "This is where you'll exert the most control from."
Then she guided Sherry's right hand to the bottom end of the hilt, just above the pommel. "Your right hand, your off hand, goes here. It's mostly for support and to help guide the direction of your strikes."
718 then stepped back, observing Sherry. "Good, now relax your shoulders. You're not trying to strangle the sword, you're dancing with it. The sword is your partner, not your enemy. Lead it."
Sherry nodded, her hands adjusting to the new hold. Somehow 718's instructions calmed her down a bit. She swung at the practice dummy again, and... it didn't go flying out of her hands this time at least. Even though Sherry never swung a sword before, she felt a little déjà vu.
When she looked down at her grip, she realized why. She has seen these designs before in manuscripts; these swords were Alexandrian. Shadow Garden must've stolen them from their armory. There were even some ancient lettering here. Translated, it read: "In its cadence..."
Her forehead creased in contemplation. The line triggered a memory of an old Alexandrian poem she had studied:
In its cadence, Alexandria's strength and wisdom lie,
A beat, beat, for every sigh
Makes a wall against which no force shall vie
If she's not mistaken, the poem referred to the Mist Dragon's breathing rate being the length of two heartbeats. She doubted this dragon was real, but it was fascinating to see how Alexandria's culture had evolved around it like this.
"Try again," 718 said, her voice soft but firm. "This time, inject some magic into it."
"Right," Sherry said, remembering her place. She might as well try it.
She swung again, and this time, the training dummy's head flew off. Sherry blinked in surprise.
"Woah-hoh, look at that!" 719 exclaimed. "You're a natural! Soon you'll be dicing up boulders!"
Sherry's eyes widened. "I did that?" She looked at her hands, and then at the sword. "I did that!" She grinned, her confidence returning. 718 applauded.
She observed the sword again, realizing its potency as a sort of low-tier artifact. Its crafting was sophisticated, designed for the user to channel rhythmic magic for maximum impact. Glancing around, Sherry felt confident she was the only one who had decoded this. It gave her a glimmer of hope for her survival. Surely, Shadow wouldn't have intentionally handed her this advantage?
Nonetheless, everyone other than her still appeared freakishly strong without this advantage. Sherry knew they were all taking those red pills, but for some reason, they haven't issued any to her yet. She wondered why.