Chapter 29: Lick, the Butcher

Alice is overwhelmed by the assault of six Apprentices at once. Before, she could anticipate and counter any attack, but now she can barely defend herself—as if their speed had doubled in a matter of minutes.

And as if it wasn't already bad enough, the unusual arena prevented her from moving more freely, every step had to be light and careful, something impossible amid a rain of blades.

She grits her teeth and mutters, "Can you guys…" One of the Apprentices charges with a vertical slash. Already tired and irritated, she thrusts her sword into the opponent's throat—who vanishes after the fatal blow.

All the Apprentices disappear, and the platform suddenly becomes stable again. "H-huh?"

"You failed," says the old man with closed eyes.

In a disbelieving and frustrated tone, she says, "What…? But how can I succeed without killing anyone?! I take one down, and five more appear!"

He sighs disappointedly. "And you dare claim you are worthy of Purgathory… You lack control." He snaps his fingers, and the platform begins to tilt again as several Apprentices manifest, ready to confront Alice. "You rely entirely on your fury and swing your sword as if you were drunk. Even a tornado is more delicate than you."

Alice doesn't even have time to think of a response before being surprised by an Apprentice spinning with a horizontal slash, which she easily blocks and pushes him off the platform.

[Stamina: 180/190]

Another Apprentice charges, and again, the player takes a defensive stance, but to her surprise, the enemy suddenly stops and retreats.

STAB

Suddenly, her stomach is pierced by another Apprentice's katana. It was so fast and unexpected that she didn't even know how to react. She falls to the ground with a severe injury, almost immobile.

[HP: 150/195]

"Enough." At his command, all the Apprentices stop any movement. "You failed. Again," the old man announces with clear disinterest.

Breathing deeply, she looks up—gathering strength to get up futilely—just observing the cyan sky of that Dungeon. "I… I could still have…"

She feels something small like a stone falling beside her: it was a healing potion, clearly superior to a small healing potion. With fragile movements, she drinks the potion, seeing her wound heal in seconds.

[HP: 195/195]

"Thank you…" she gets up still confused. "But why did you do that?"

The old man stares at her with a surprised and offended look. "Why would I leave you to die? You are still a young swordswoman with potential." He gets up and walks to the platform, extending a hand to Alice. "Killing you could destroy a great future."

His gentle action briefly calms her irritation. She accepts his help and asks genuinely, "How do you want me to do this?" She unsheathes her sword and stares at her own reflection in the blade, "I just don't understand why I have to be unnecessarily perfect. These guys will come back anyway."

"Until you understand, this test will be your new home." He walks off the platform, "Let's start again."

With a snap of his fingers, the ground tilts again. "W-WOAH! WAIT!" Alice says while struggling to stay upright. Three more Apprentices fall onto the platform and immediately charge at the player.

Determined to complete that damn test as quickly as possible—thinking of Sophie and Solol's safety—Alice switches to a 100% defensive approach, where she will only defend or dodge attacks, practicing to avoid accidentally killing an Apprentice.

While defending against attacks, she also runs in circles on the edge to keep the platform as balanced as possible. Taking advantage of her proximity to the edge, she uses [Perfect Block] during the Apprentices' strikes to throw them off the platform. A perfect plan.

Or so she thought, as her opponents anticipated her skill, retreating and jumping back at her—making [Perfect Block] ineffective—and returning with another rain of slashes.

Two minutes and thirteen seconds. Alice was overwhelmed by the opponents and had her sword knocked out of her hands.

"You failed. Again," the old man announces, almost falling asleep from boredom.

This time, Alice's plan was to attract as many Apprentices as possible to one edge of the platform and jump over all of them. Making them fall like sand.

Twenty-nine seconds. She overestimated her jumping strength and fell into the midst of a group of seven Apprentices—who were kind enough to just kick her and not stab her body until it looked like Swiss cheese.

"Okay, enough! You failed again."

"C'mon Alice. There must be a way to get through this… Maybe my experience in Soulslike games could be useful here."

Instead of defending, she just rolls to the sides.

Five seconds. "Roll. Roll. Roll. Roll—" she falls off the platform, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

[HP: 190/195]

"Pfft!" The old man puts a hand on his face, trying to make a serious expression while fighting his urge to laugh. "Ahem, I mean—Apprentices, fish her out."

She tries confronting them again, this time reducing the force of her slashes, so even if she hits an Apprentice, it wouldn't be a fatal blow. This strategy worked very well so far, at least for nine and a half minutes—when, by reflex, she accidentally decapitated an Apprentice.

"You failed—"

"I KNOW, YOU GLASS MUMMY! I HAVE EYES!"

Four minutes and twenty-one seconds. She managed to knock down four Apprentices by taking advantage of the unbalanced platform; her plan worked so well that she fell into it herself.

Six minutes and seven seconds. After defending for 95% of the time, Alice takes advantage of an opening to make a superficial cut on an Apprentice, but she accidentally hits the head of another enemy approaching her.

Eleven minutes. No Apprentice was knocked down. Alice finds herself surrounded on all sides. Her rage, frustration, and hatred were eating away at her heart like gasoline, and when she sees everyone charging at her simultaneously, it was as if a match was thrown into her heart.

She explodes with a scream, spinning like a metal cyclone; all the Apprentices were brutally sliced in half with the blow. "Screw this useless test! Screw those expendable NPCs!" she points at him, "And screw YOU!"

He starts coughing loudly, "COUGH! COUGH!" He puts a hand to his mouth, and Alice notices new cracks in his fingers—and after several coughs, his ring finger breaks off and falls from his body.

Her rage completely ceases and gives way to concern. "A-are you okay?"

"This is why care is so important. You can be as destructive as a wildfire, but at the same time, you're as uncontrollable as one." He raises his hand to show Alice the damage SHE caused to him. "And before you know it, you've hurt someone you shouldn't have."

"B-but how did I do that? You weren't even close."

"My Apprentices… They are not disposable. Each one is made from a fraction of my being, and every time one dies, that fraction is lost forever. Until…" he points to the broken pieces where his arm should be.

"Why didn't you tell me that before?!"

Even with the loss of his finger, he maintains a neutral expression as if he had been through this before. He responds in a sarcastic tone, "I warned you to be careful, and you didn't care. Now I've lost a finger. Forever. I hope it was worth it."

"…" she is left speechless, feeling the weight of guilt on her shoulders. She murmurs disappointedly with herself, "I'm sorry…"

"There was once a Swordsman like you, foolish and impulsive. But with immense potential."

<…>

His name was Luck; his father was the greatest soldier to ever set foot in Hillcrest—with grand feats, like the time he defeated a clan of fifty armed men with a knife while drunk.

So obviously, the expectation fell on the fragile shoulders of his two sons—Lick and Luck—especially after their father's forced retirement, who lost his legs after trying to confront an ice dragon.

But Lick always thought that he was the one and only successor. He trained nineteen hours a day, rain or snow, he never missed a session. Even when his fingers bled, even when he could feel his heart exploding from exhaustion, nothing could stop him.

Ironically, this training was his downfall. He abused his body so much that he practically destroyed it to the point where no healer could save him—his arms were severely limited, barely having the strength to lift a sword, his legs could only endure a few minutes of standing, even his eyes were damaged, making him nearly blind.

So with one son out, all the pressure and expectation fell onto poor Luck. His father put him through rigorous training—not as harsh as Lick's—and if his performance was below expectations, Luck was forced to spend the night in a dark cave filled with monsters. He would spend the entire night fighting to survive, and when he returned home, his father forced him to continue training without rest.

That broke his spirit—once enthusiastic and determined, now only disgust remained—making him hate the sword. But his choice was to submit or suffer a fate worse than his brother's, as his father always said, and of all the bad things his father was, a liar wasn't one of them.

So, as a way to release his anger, his fighting style became violent, lethal, and unrefined. The fury in his strikes was such that it seemed as if his sword was imbued with flames. He became the most deadly soldier in Hillcrest's history. No matter his opponent, wherever he went, he always left a trail of bodies behind.

But this wasn't seen as a bad thing; after all, in Hillcrest, soldiers are trained to kill. And Lick was good at it.

He became a legend, almost as grand as his father's. However, unlike his father—who was respected for his skills—everyone feared Lick for his insatiable bloodlust. Even his comrades weren't safe, as his strikes were so dangerous that once he accidentally severed the arms of two allies.

So, Lick started receiving solo missions, focused entirely on assassinations, which was perfect for a butcher like him.

Until one day, he received a mission. Find and exterminate a clan of thieves hiding in a small village far from Hillcrest—this clan was called the Copper Vultures, who would attack and loot adventurers after a tough battle, taking advantage of their tired bodies to steal their belongings.

Excited, Lick traveled to the said village. And the moment he set foot in the village, without any hesitation, he raised his katana with a smile on his face and attacked everything he saw. No one knows the details of what happened, as no one but Lick was left to tell the tale.

He returned with a satisfied look to Hillcrest and received praise from his superiors. However, a few days later, the kingdom was bombarded with news of a massacre in a village. The same village Lick had arrived at, but he quickly realized the horrifying truth: he had gone to the wrong village.

37 men, 34 women, and 19 children.

Instantly, he regained his sanity. It was as if God himself had snapped his fingers in his ear, making him realize the mistake he had made. But it was too late. The destruction he left behind couldn't be undone.

The only person he had the courage to tell was his brother, Luck. He asked him to tell the kingdom, expose the mistake he had made, while he would disappear, not out of fear of punishment, but to give himself the punishment he deserved.

And then he was gone. Disappeared without a trace. His cowardly brother, even after promising, didn't have the courage to tell, for he still loved his brother and didn't want his legacy to be destroyed by what he had done.

<…>

"And what happened?"

"Lick was never seen again. He may have exiled himself on some island, or ended his own life with his own hands, only he knows how his story ended. As for Luck, he dedicated the rest of his life to passing on the lesson he learned: The sword is not just a tool for killing."

Alice's eyes widen, "You are…"

"I regret not honoring my brother's last request. That's why I'm here, eternally bound to this sword, to ensure that whoever wields the last weapon of Hillcrest doesn't make the same mistake. Even if it costs what's left of my soul. If you wish to save your friends, you must first become a true swordswoman. That's why, Blade Dancer, you must continue this test."

Alice looks at the marks created by her own strike. No matter what happens, she can't let herself lose control for even a second. She raises her sword and assumes a combat stance. "Bring it on."

Luck gives a small smile and snaps his fingers, restarting the test. "Let's see if you've really learned something."