The First Request

"Capital of Verhaal… Farza, Pandemonium, Lalahandra, or Ma Gog?" asked his instructor, holding an open book.

As his only response, Noah stepped forward, his body angled slightly, one arm extended as if gripping an unseen blade. His hand hovered at chest height, fingers loose but poised, while his other arm rested near his side. His feet shifted into a practiced stance, the front one pointed straight ahead, the back angled for balance. Though his hands were empty, his stance radiated the focus of a duelist ready to strike. This was the Bishop Style Third Guard.

"Next. Which keyword is used for water grudge spells… LuLu, AlphaPigeon, Buu, or Jul?"

Noah raised his arm, his hand near his shoulder as if shielding his heart with an invisible blade. His stance was firm, feet set for balance, his gaze sharp and unwavering. This was the Bishop Style Fourth Guard.

"... Next. Which of those items allows you to recover 8 spell uses in total? Dried white morning glory, a mandrake root, or a dried evening primrose?"

Again, Noah did the Fourth Guard, prompting his teacher to ask him to share his thoughts. He then took his notepad and marked a few words inside.

[Mandrake root does allow you to regain 8 uses by spells, but it only allows you to gain 8 in total if you have a single spell equipped. White morning glory can do the same if you have 8 spells equipped, and evening primrose if you have 4.]

After writing this, he took his stance again as asked of him. Now all that was left was to hear the appraisal of his teacher.

"Hm… Correct, but your back is too hunched again. Also, you should look right before you, not at the ground. The angle of your legs too… It is too small. You will lose your equilibrium at the slightest occasion. Also your blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda—"

"..."

As her answer, the maid promptly delivered a harsh judgment on the posture he thought he had perfectly mastered. He knew she was a bit of a perfectionist, but when it came to anything fight-related, this was worse.

"Well… at least it seems you have mastered all the guards. Your knowledge of the world also grew considerably… Congratulations, you pass this time."

"!!!"

Noah could barely stop himself from jumping around in joy. Ever since he and his maid started with theoretical combat training three months ago, he had been treated mercilessly by her. However, after months of hard work, it seemed he had finally gained her approval.

"As I said, I am not happy about you becoming an adventurer," added his instructor. "But a deal is a deal. Honestly, I didn't expect you to succeed in just two months but… sigh… Well, it can't be helped. Starting tomorrow, we will practice. I won't show you any mercy, so better be prepared."

Noah nodded. He wasn't expecting less than hell from her anyway. She had clearly voiced her dissatisfaction with him becoming an adventurer many times.

*scribble**scribble*

[So, how much did I get?] he wrote.

"You should be saying, how high have you rated me."

"Oh…"

*scribble**scribble*

[So, how much did I get?

How high have you rated me, instructor?]

"... You barely passed. 14."

"Ah..."

She told him that 12 would have been more than good enough for others, but that unless he scored at least 14 on her test, she wouldn't bother sparring with him.

"You said you lack luck, right? Well, you will have to compensate with strength and knowledge."

That is what she said at the time to justify her harsh training regimen.

She had him write entire passages from books using only his memory of them, do all sorts of physical exercises like push-ups and squats every day, all the while also teaching him about the basic stances of different fighting styles.

Of course, he found all of that draining, but the fact he knew she was doing this to make him lose his motivation actually motivated him more than usual. It had been long since he had that will to best someone. To prove to everyone that he could do it, he could do what they thought was impossible. To—

"Now that I think about it, you are oddly motivated ever since I told you I would do anything you asked of me," commented his instructor, staring down at him.

"..."

True, he wasn't motivated by pure ideals alone. It wasn't just a desire to prove himself or shape his future driving him forward. There was another motivation—one he couldn't quite admit, even to himself.

His maid had been a constant presence throughout this grueling training, and as the weeks passed, he found himself noticing her in ways that left him confused and embarrassed. Maybe it was the proximity, or the way she would casually adjust his posture or brush past him during lessons. It wasn't something he meant to feel, but it was there, undeniable and maddening.

He'd never had a girlfriend before—not even close—and navigating these new, awkward emotions was uncharted territory. He wasn't quite sure what to do with the strange mix of admiration and something… less noble that stirred when she was near.

At first, he dismissed it as exhaustion or an overactive imagination. But then she made that promise:

"If you pass my test, I'll grant you one request. Anything within my capacity."

It was as though she'd opened a door he'd been desperately trying to keep shut.

"(What were you thinking when you said that?)" he thought, yelling in his pillow that night.

He couldn't stop himself from imagining all the possibilities—most of which he immediately discarded with a flushed face. But the idea stuck, and no matter how much he tried to focus on his training, it loomed in the back of his mind like an embarrassing secret.

Then, he came to a conclusion: if he couldn't control his mind then he would use it as a fuel to go even farther.

He would work hard just for a chance to realize even the littlest of the fantasies his mind played with.

.

"(Now, what should I ask her?)" he thought, putting on an overly serious face. This was, after all, a state problem to him.

The maid, on the other hand, looked at her student with a curious yet confident gaze.

She made her mistress Vasilisa go through hell during just the preliminary phase of her training in the hope she would give up in the middle of it. She didn't even seem so motivated at the beginning, so she thought it would be easy.

Yet, her mistress persisted, her dark eyes shining more than they ever did before ever since the maid had the bad idea to make that stupid promise.

What could this noble girl possibly want so badly that she would work so diligently for more than two months?

"(Well, she seems alone and neglected here. Maybe she wants me to take her into town or something like that?)" she thought.

Maybe she would ask for something as simple as a break from training? She did seem a bit tired recently. Oh! Or she could ask to instantly be allowed to become an adventurer? That would be a bit stupid with her current lack of experience, but Momo had to admit that her student showed some promise.

"(Yeah… If I didn't show that much bad will, I would probably rate her 18 instead…)"

There was no doubt this girl could pass the rank-up exam with her current level of knowledge and strength. It was almost as if she already had some experience with dungeon exploration and the like.

"... Impossible."

Yet, there was no way she could have gained such experience on the field. Momo concluded that her student must have the capacity to simulate situations with a rather great level of accuracy.

"O-Oh…"

"Hm?"

The maid's eyes opened in surprise as she heard her mistress's whimper. She was holding her notepad with trembling hands and a downcast gaze.

"(Oh… She must think I refused her request… with that 'impossible' I said…)"

Momo shook her head with force. She had to correct her blunder—as an adult, she couldn't shatter the dream of a young girl so carelessly.

"Ahem… Sorry, mistress, I was swept by some thoughts. Of course, I will do… what… you ask...huh?"

Momo's eyes opened wide. On the little notepad was written a sentence she had not expected coming from her student even in her wildest dreams.

[I want you to *crossed over* pat my head everyday after training?]