Lone: The Wanderer

Book 1: Chapter 81: Instructor’s Name and Most Valuable ’Item’



Book 1: Chapter 81: Instructor’s Name and Most Valuable ’Item’

Book 1: Chapter 81: Instructor's Name and Most Valuable 'Item'

Shaking her head, Sophie's swordsmanship and martial arts instructor said, "You are improving a lot, that is clear to see, but only with the Baat Jaam Dou form. You will never truly master the art if you cannot also wholly understand the hand-to-hand portion of the technique. You have yet to even master only the first form of this aspect, Siu Nim Tau."

Sophie frowned as her face glistened under the sunlight from the sweat slowly dripping down forehead and cheeks. "Wing Chun may not be a perfect fit for us. We are trying our best, but standard martial arts not involving our dual shortswords are simply very difficult to grasp in so little time."

Lone was sitting in the lotus position not far from the two. He figured that being postured like a monk would help centre his chi and whatnot.

With no more mana for a year and with no proper tutor skilled in fighting with a swordspear or polearm in the city - at least not one who wasn't wildly racist, Lone felt it was wise to just... relax. Calm his mind and such.

'Soph, Sophie and I, are pretty unlucky, huh?' Lone thought.

Clearing his mind entirely was pretty hard, as it turned out. This was doubly so when he could hear Sophie's soft panting from her constant training and now he was being further distracted by her and her instructor holding a conversation.

'Soph and Sophie's dual shortswords, then I and my double-ended swordspear. Such an uncommon fighting style and such a stupidly unconventional weapon type,' Lone commented internally.

He chuckled to himself. 'I'll never find a teacher, will I? Anyone who uses the same weapon-type as me must be a total bumble-fuck, after all.'

Sophie's instructor paid no mind to the creepily laughing foxkin sitting at the side of the training courtyard.

She crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Attack me with everything that you have. I will tell you now that I am a G-ranker."

Sophie's eyes opened wide. "What? You're that weak? We are an E-ranker. It would be unfair for us to attack you with the intent to kill."

The instructor scoffed. "I am far stronger than you, of that, I can guarantee. Come at me. I will display to you what it is that you are failing to grasp."

Sophie frowned but she reluctantly nodded. She was no foolish child, after all. Inside of her young body was an almost 1,000-year-old woman with the experience of fighting in several crusades targetted at her and killing servants of God for over a century.

She took several quick steps in the direction of her dark-skinned instructor and slashed at her with her left shortsword before quickly pivoting and swinging down with the other.

The instructor spun her left foot slightly and then slammed her open palm against the flat side of Sophie's incoming lateral strike.

The moment her hand made contact with the cool steel of Sophie's shortsword, something strange happened.

Almost like magic, her hand snaked around the blade's sharp edge and then redirected the sword.

The next second it slammed into the incoming vertical strike, sending Sophie off balance, resulting in both of her attacks missing and she ended up losing her footing.

Sophie fell flat on her ass as bewilderment filled her expression. "... How?"

"Technique. Plain and simple. The skill for Wing Chun amplifies my own talent as well. Now, stop complaining and return to practising. You will get nowhere with such a stupified expression on your face," the instructor said as she smiled a bit proudly. "I will not accept your money if I cannot even do my job and properly train you."

'Master, I swear, your art won't die with me. This girl has the fire within her to fully master it. I can sense it,' the dark-skinned woman thought.

"Hey," Lone interrupted. "Do you mind if I ask you what your name is? Sophie's such a smug little diva most of the time. I'd like to personally thank the person who's stupified her so perfectly."

Sophie pouted as she scrunched up her brow in anger. "We are not a diva, you are just overly foolish as well as too keen to tease us..."

The instructor gave Lone an appraising look. "Those're some rude words for a slave to say about his master."

"Slave, friend, lover, it's all the same after spending enough time alone with each other," Lone shrugged.

In his mind, it was only the nobles he had to be careful with when speaking of his relationship to Sophie and what, exactly, he was to her.

"You were not alone if you were together," the instructor stated.

She then crossed her arms over her voluminous chest before she pursed her lips. "First she turns out not to be blind, next you are both being sheltered by the guild, third you do not act like a slave should..."

She sighed. "Well, it matters not. I have already decided to earnestly pass on my techniques to Sophie. My name is Demda of the Blowing Wind."

"That's a name?" Lone asked. "Sounds like a name and a title to me."

"Is it a name, yes. At least it is where I come from," Demda answered plainly. "Regardless, we have wasted enough time talking. Resume your silence, and you," she said as she gestured to Sophie with her chin, "Get up. There is yet energy in your body, we must use it wisely."

A few hours later, back in their assigned room, Lone was idly reading a book on the culture of the few archipelagos that littered the continent's eastern coast.

Meanwhile, Sophie was still in control of her and Soph's body and she was busy drying her hair after a hot bath.

Lone had offered to dry it for her but she claimed that she wanted to braid it while drying it to help build her Dexterity potential, so had refused the well-intentioned offer.

After all, if one didn't possess Lone's Growth Accelerator, then the only time stat points were earned was when a level-up occurred. The number of points granted was determined by how much potential the individual held in all of their stats.

Hence why Soph and Sophie had such a ludicrous amount of Magic Power.

In light of that, Lone didn't mind her reply, though he'd be lying if he wasn't enticed by the sight of her sitting on the edge of their bed in nothing but a towel as she fiddled about with her hair and a warming stone.

Warming stones were nice little things invented by some long-lost clan of dwarfs, supposedly. They were ordinary rocks until one put a bit of MP in them. Once powered up, they could become as hot as 100-degrees-Celsius if need be.

"Hey, Sophie. Do you always need to use your adult body when you have a bath?" Lone asked. "I prefer it when Soph is the one in charge of bathing. I never want to jump on her when she looks like a primary-schooler, after all."

Sophie shrugged. "It is not our fault that you are so physically attracted to this form."

Lone frowned. "I know you prefer the teen body. You're just trying to tease me, aren't you?"

"Tease or tempt. Perhaps both. Perhaps we are simply bored. Who knows?" Sophie wore a devilish grin on her lips as she stared at Lone in a way that rocked his very soul.

Letting out a deep sigh, Lone replied, "it's still the middle of the afternoon. I can control myself until the evening."

Sophie turned her head away as she focused on her braiding. "That would be for the best. It is Soph's turn to have you tonight anyway. She would be most jealous were you to fool around with me early."

"Figured as much," Lone said as he returned to reading his book, however, the next moment a knock came from the door.

"One second," Lone answered as he raised his voice.

He glanced over to Sophie before he said, "Go back in the bathroom and get dressed, would you?"

Sophie nodded. "Sure." She was just as leery as Lone was to have others see her wearing nothing but a towel, especially since she knew who was knocking on their door.

She shrunk to her teen form, grabbed some clothes from their wardrobe, then sauntered back into the bathroom.

Getting up and opening the door, Lone was met with the smiling face of Gilbert. "Hey."

"Hey yourself, Son," Gilbert answered. "Busy?"

Lone shook his head. "Nah. I was just reading. Wanna come in?"

"No, that's okay. I came to tell you that Sir Deposit's auction has been pushed forward. It was initially meant to have been held shortly after the tourney had ended, but for whatever reason Sir Deposit had decided to hold it tonight. At the tenth bell, to be precise," Gilbert said as he stroked his goatee in interest.

"Ah. Uh, I assume you're inviting me?" Lone asked.

Gilbert nodded and flashed a sagely smile. "Yup. I've got a private booth as the local representative of The Adventurer's Guild."

He rubbed his jaw in thought for a bit before he shook his head. "I can't understand that Sir Deposit. He has access to a pocket dimension and can link it almost anywhere he wants to with his masterful understanding of enchanting and space magic, yet he chooses to host this particular auction here, in the middle of nowhere?"

Lone furrowed his brow. "Is that suspicious?"

"Well, yes. It's very rare for Sir Deposit's world-famous auctions to be made exclusive, even more so considering the most precious 'item' up for sale tonight," Gilbert casually explained.

"Oh? A powerful weapon or something?" Lone asked. "Maybe an ego one? I've read so much about those. I really want one, to be honest."

Gilbert laughed loudly. "Hahaha! Even owning an item with an ego - or a holy artefact, as the church would have them be called - is enough to get you hunted down by the seekers. Only the Primals can imagine what selling one would incur."

'The church restricts and covets ego items? Why? That wasn't in the books... Man, why do religions always suck no matter where you go?' Lone complained internally.

"Well, what's the item then to be so precious? I can think of a few things, but honestly, I only know as much as the books I've read..." Lone asked.

Gilbert's joyful expression soon darkened. "Right. It's a child. A baby, no less."

"... A slave?" Lone asked, his tone more angered than he had intended it to be.

Gilbert smiled wryly. "No, though if anyone bar a handful of people buy her, then yes, she'll be a slave with time, no doubt."

"What makes her special then? Is the baby a summoned hero or something? A princess of a foreign kingdom?" There was no reason for a child to be the best 'item' in a world-famous auction if she was ordinary, after all.

"She's a Golden Foxkin," Gilbert explained.

"... The one that appeared before me... The one from the rumours, right?" Lone asked in concern. 'So the rumours Matriarch Lossa had heard were true? She belongs to a famous auction owner now?'

Gilbert nodded. "Indeed. The very same."

'... Is her situation similar to mine? The Golden Foxkin all disappeared a century ago. She can't actually be a legitimate descendant of the Shimmering Foxkin Clan, can she?... I need to meet her. Maybe she can talk even though she's a baby? Some babies are quick learners, after all...' Lone thought with hopes of learning more about why he, Soph and Sophie had been brought to this world.

Gilbert sighed softly. "Anyway, I assume you and Sophie are fine coming with me tonight, yes? We'll be going with that blacksmith and his niece you saved along with the other former slaves of Daisuke."

Lone raised an eyebrow. "Why? Grimsley's broke now since his smithy was burned to the ground."

"Ah, right. I never told you. He's been properly compensated by the guild since it was technically an adventurer's doing, that damned Daisuke... Apparently, the dwarf's keen on attending one of Sir Deposit's famous auctions before he and his niece flee to the closest dwarven stronghold," Gilbert said a bit hatefully.

No doubt, the negativity was pointed at Milindo's summoned hero.

He smiled lightly, showing off the handsomeness of his middle-aged face. "As for the other girls, I'll be handing over official custody of Breena Redtail to you during the auction and the elf is going to meet with her father in my private booth before the two of them immediately leave Milindo."

"Huh... Okay. Well, can you give us, like, 5-minutes?" Lone asked. "Sophie's still drying her hair, I think. That or she somehow failed to get dressed."

"Sure. Take your time, Son. Like I said, the auction doesn't start until the tenth bell," Gilbert responded with a warm chuckle.


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