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The Trash That Turned Out To Be Treasure

What's worse? Dying and being forcefully summoned into the slavery of some otherworldly dynasty? Transmigrating as one of the weakest in the bunch of Summoned Heroes? Or being reborn with a name as stupid as "Quarth?" Little do all these idiots know, Quarth came from a world where "most" of the situations that have befallen him have already been novelized and documented for the average person's reading pleasure. He can't remember much of anything with regard to his old life, but he knows just enough to game the system he was brought into and scheme his way to the top! "Make a slave out of me, will you? I'll destroy you from the inside out before you even know what happened!" He vowed.

BrightDawn · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
20 Chs

Back To The Basics

"After our… "spar,"" I cringed, "what would you say are my biggest weaknesses?" I asked. We were both in the bath and I was currently fighting for my life to not stare at her very impressive cleavage.

It had been months since we had all gotten used to sharing the one large bedroom and bathroom. But, unlike Ily and Alex, I had yet to get used to seeing Aila's bare body. She had by far the most attractive female physique I'd ever seen and I don't think that even after a few weeks of exposure I would grow numb to it any time soon.

"Do you want me to be completely honest with you?" She asked, already doing more damage with her words than I imagined she could do with five more hours of physical sparring.

"Lay it on me," I sulked. Whatever her current opinion was, it couldn't be worse than refusing her constructive criticism now and remaining a weak failure.

"Well, your lack of experience is easily your greatest weakness. From what I gathered from the hour we spent together, you are more than capable of dealing with Grade F threats and possibly some Grade E opponents with a weakness to Wood Magic. For someone who's never fought before and only had a few months to develop, you're rather strong."

I felt vindicated—

"Aside from your lack of fighting experience, though, your extremely limited combat options hold you back. You may have a chance at beating Grade E monsters and wild beasts. But as you are, all it would take is a competent Grade F intelligent combatant with a decent amount of combat training to beat you."

My heart sank—

"Also, for someone who prioritizes Vitality above all other physical aspects, you sure have a strong aversion to leveraging that to your favor. Anyone else in your position would simply push through the pain of being attacked to fight back relentlessly; especially someone like you who will have Alchemical Pills and Spirit Cooking to help tend to your wounds after any significant battle."

My soul was crushed—

"And there's also the matter of your lack of creativity when it comes to using your Skills. Like, even for the two spells you used, [Wood Flames] and [Land Surfing], you didn't even think to apply them beyond their most basic use. You just chucked fireball after fireball at me, while occasionally propelling yourself in a straight line."

My hopes were dashed—

"Lastly, and most egregious of all, in my opinion, was how stubborn you were in trying to beat me with just magic. Towards the end of our time sparring together, I even went out of my way to fight you physically, but you just kept trying to win by using magic when I had shown time and time again that at your level it was futile against me."

"Really, I don't understand what compelled you to not try something, anything, else," she sighed. "Don't you know that, that kind of reckless obstinance is what gets most people killed in the heat of a real battle?"

Oof, she really held nothing back…

"Sorry," I felt genuinely embarrassed, "it's like I said before we began. That was the first time I ever tried my hand at fighting. Most of the things you just mentioned all seem like common sense now that I look back on our fights, if you can even call that them. But it'll probably take a bit more practice before I can get any good at fighting competently."

"Don't worry," she smile, more than I'd ever seen before but still barely registerable compared to the average person, "between Kombu and I, we'll make a warrior out of you."

And just like that, all the goodwill she had built up with me died a merciless death.

Perhaps if this conversation was taking place a month ago I wouldn't currently be fearing for my safety. But ever since I outfitted Kombu with some decent combat prosthetics he was easily the strongest person in our group.

If she asked him to help whip me up into shape, I probably wouldn't live through the experience and remain the same man. Especially not when Kombu was as aggressive and disagreeable as he was outside of battle. If I had to fight him, I'm sure I'd be traumatized like a veteran who lived through a war.

"Good, good… Now give me four hundred push-ups," I could hear the grin on Kombu's face.

You know, despite the lack of physical violence, I think this might be worse. I was getting bossed around by my own slave and forced to train my body up like anyone else; like we weren't living in a fantasy world with magic pills and shit.

"Can you," I did a push-up, "at least," I did another, "tell me," and another, "why," another, "we're wasting," another…, "time," I could go on for days, "on this?"

Seriously, there were a billion other ways to raise my Constitution that were neither as time-consuming nor emasculating — in comparison to getting my ass handed to me with more sparring, I mean.

"You think this is a waste of time?" I looked up and saw Kombu sneering down at me.

I didn't stop doing my push-ups, though, as he continued, "Physical conditioning is just as important to a fighter as cultivating with a Cultivation Method. It's what determines where you fall in comparison to others with similar Stats. It teaches one discipline and lays the foundation for all kinds of subtle aspects that may determine whether or not one may learn a Skill. Without physical conditioning, a person would just be a bundle of power without finesse."

"...I already know all of that," I squinted my eyes at him in exasperation. "I'm asking why you're wasting your time by watching me exercise and not teaching me anything else when you could have easily just laid out a training routine for me to do on my own time."

"Hey, aren't you the one who told us you didn't want to see us working ourselves to death?" He smugly asked. "I'm just taking a break right now. Watching you struggle is quite entertaining for me."

I can't believe this bullshit. From my own goddamn slave, no less!

I swear it in my heart, you fucking asshole. One day! I will become stronger than you! And when the prophecy day arrives, it will be me that laughs down at you! You smug bastard!

Until then, I will channel this rage-inducing annoyance into following your stupid training routine. All things considered, I couldn't find a flaw in it compared to the countless training protocols [Plant Identification] had downloaded into my head.

I hope I don't forget to give (better) descriptions of each of the more relevant characters. I've put off doing that since they're all kind of using raggedy equipment/clothes.

Anyway...

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