Dokeshi March ~ 23!

“Well, that was a colossal failure.” Suki gingerly rubbed some ointment on the burn where her gauntlet touched her shoulder. “I can’t believe we fell for such a simple trap.”

“I don’t know; it doesn’t seem that bad.” Grant was doing his best to wedge the door to the abandoned leatherworker shop back in its frame while they talked, grunting as the distressed wood finally popped into place. “We couldn’t have known there was a trap on a door they must open a bunch of times a day. Besides, you did get that key from the guard. You never know, that might be useful later on.”

<On the bright and shiny side, the guard you defeated was a Vassal, so it helped with your cultivation.> Sarge sounded upbeat just so the next part would hit harder, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. <It was pretty embarrassing. You should feel bad for getting laid low like that.>

“Don’t try to make this sound like some kind of victory.” Suki finished applying the ointment and started laying out their bedrolls. “It was an absolute, complete failure.”

“It wasn’t. We learned how the doors work, and what to expect as we go in there. They’re open at certain times, and you don’t touch anything unless you know it isn’t a trap.” Grant went over to Suki’s pack and pulled out the map from its side pocket. “In fact, I think I might have an idea how we can get around this.”

“You can’t even understand how to play Bridge, but you think you understand how casino security works all of a sudden?” Suki was struggling to run a brush through her frazzled hair, so she waved it at him instead. “Please, enlighten me, oh wise one.”

“Hey! I’m smart! It isn’t my fault there’s a game called ‘Bridge’ that doesn’t even involve a single bit of construction.” Grant spread their map out on a worn work table, mumbling about people naming things in a way that made no sense. “Just look at the doors marked on the map. This whole thing is a circle, right? Well, we were trying to enter at the nine o’clock position. Do you remember what that guard said? It only opens when the ninth bell rings.”

“So, you think that if we go to the ten o’clock position, the door will open at the tenth bell?” Suki took a good look at the map, tracing her finger across all the marked positions. “Okay, let’s say you’re right. We still have to get you gambling at a high enough level to prove you belong in the next region. How do we do that?”

“Well, maybe all I really need is practice.” Grant pointed to a large square on the map only a few blocks from the eleven o’clock position. “How much do you want to bet this is a big market square of some kind? We could make it there before dark tomorrow if we hurry. I should be able to get some practice in, and then we can just enter the casino at the eleventh bell.”

“Hmm… it’s a bad plan. High chance of us losing everything before we even get through the first casino.” Suki contemplated the map a bit longer, still fighting her frazzled hair with the brush. “Yet, I somehow can’t think of anything better, and it’s probably a good idea to try to enter a bit farther from our failed attempt.”

She carefully repacked the tattered parchment before laying down on her bedroll. “If you fail, we can still try fighting our way through. I’m sure it’ll be easier once we’re already inside.”

“Now who’s tempting fate?” Grant teased with an arched eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. It didn’t last long. The two of them burst into laughter, relieving some of the tension that had hung over them ever since their failure. “You should get some rest, and try to recover from the shocking events at the gate. I’ll head down to the basement and get some training in.”

“I have to admit… I’m impressed.” Suki pulled her blanket up to her chin and rolled over. “You have enough dedication to training that I think the people in District February would be jealous.”

Grant snorted in disbelief. He had seen the way they trained. No thanks. He didn’t want to get blown away by a stiff breeze. More importantly, he was determined to find a steak and eat every single bite himself, even if he had to kill the cow personally.

“I’m also pleased by your restraint. Knocking people out without killing them is actually pretty difficult.” There was a long moment of silence, then a grunt of displeasure. “Or should I be worried about how many times you needed to practice that before you stopped killing them and started knocking them out?”

<Don’t answer that. Just walk away. Tonight, I think it would be a good idea to practice your Iaijutsu from a seated position.> Sarge had clearly been planning the training Grant was about to undertake. <My reasoning: you’re going to be sitting around at a lot of card tables, so I think you should be prepared if something goes wrong. Let me rephrase that: when. When something goes wrong, because we both know something is going to go wild before this is over, you’ll need to know how to kill your way out from any position.>

“That’s… fair?” Grant didn’t have a reply for that. He couldn’t fault Sarge for the assessment, considering how things tended to go. No one liked to lose, and even fewer were willing to part with their lives. Instead of coming up with anything to say, the Lord continued down to the basement.

He stacked a few empty crates left by the former owners to simulate a table and chair, then got to work. Sarge ran him through a gambit of enemies, attacking him from all kinds of different angles. Grant wasn’t sure how likely it was that a horned rabbit would attack his legs under the table while he was playing cards, but he went with it anyway.

After spending the first hour testing Grant in every imaginable way to fight while seated, Sarge decided to up the ante. Grant had to stay in a sitting position without the help of a chair, his enhanced body cultivation the only thing keeping his legs from trembling… for the first hour. Eventually the pain of the uncomfortable position forced him to gasp and snarl as he held the pose and fought. To make his training worse, Sarge started dropping slimes on his head to force him to learn overhead awareness.

The semi-liquid bodies required Grant to intercept them perfectly, swatting them away center-mass with the full length of the side of his blade. If he was just a touch off, they could still coat him with at least a portion of their caustic goo.

<Perfect!> He slapped aside an orange-colored slime, turning the motion into a slash that bisected a faceless man wielding a narrow dagger. <That’s it! If you keep this up, you might have a real chance at winning!>

As intended, Sarge’s mental shout caused Grant to miss the next object headed his direction, a sharp-edged card that struck him on the end of the nose. He reflexively jerked his head back, throwing off his precarious balance and toppling.

“Oomph…!” Landing hard on his backside, he still managed to remove the hand of the second dagger-wielder trying to make his insides become outsides. He raised his legs with the intent to flip his weight forward to help him back to his feet, but the motion caused him to accidentally kick the edge of the old crate functioning as a table. It exploded into a cloud of splinters, making a loud racket that he was certain would cause Suki to wake up ready for a fight. “Ah, Regent… that isn’t good.”

<You better get up there and tell Suki you’re okay, otherwise you’re going to regret it.> Sarge agreed as soon as Grant was back on his feet and had sheathed his uchigatana. <We should probably wrap it up for the day anyway. Now that you have some training with fighting while seated, it’s time to practice what you will be doing at the tables in the first place.>

When Grant made it to the top of the stairs, he was shocked to find Suki still asleep. Apparently, the last few days had been enough to wear out even her incredible stamina. Or, now that he thought about it, she may have been using her Fragment to boost her recovery even more than he had initially assumed. He quietly walked outside, searching for a well or rain barrel to wash himself with. The smell of such vigorous training wasn’t a pleasant one, and he would need to be at least somewhat presentable when they sat down at the high roller tables.

<I’m glad I don’t have to threaten you to make you bathe anymore,> Sarge chuckled in Grant’s mind. <Farm, moist body, and clogged-pore sweat was not the most pleasing scent. I’m made of metal, and it was getting to me.>

“In all fairness, my Mental Cultivation was four when we first met, if you remember correctly.” Grant flicked his eyes to review his current levels. “I’m at eighty-seven now. The fact that I can hold a conversation about personal hygiene while sore and actively searching for threats probably has something to do with the overall changes you’ve seen in me.”

<Oh, most definitely. Your mind alone has shown improvement of almost twenty-two times over. Just imagine what it will be like when you are in the hundreds… the thousands?> Sarge let that concept sink in for a moment. <If I had any money, I’d bet that at that point, you might even be able to feed yourself without making a mess!>

“Such a sharp wit.” Grant rolled his eyes as he finally tracked down a well in the back corner of the lot and started washing. He didn’t dwell too long on the ‘stinky’ comment, as he knew the sword spirit was only giving him a hard time. However, the other point was needling him. “In a real way, Sarge… what kind of improvements can I expect when my mental cultivation finally gets into the hundreds?”

<It’s… hard to say.> Sarge let his humor drift away, replaced by a strange trepidation. Grant recognized that this might be an opportunity to learn something important ahead of actually needing to experience it. <It should go without saying that your ability to remember things, and your speed of thought will increase, along with your maximum mana and mana regeneration levels. It should, but I know you were at a mental cultivation of four not long ago.>

“Yes, yes, you are the sword of hilarity.” Grant nudged the conversation along.

<The fact is, everyone’s mind is different. I have heard that people can do wondrous things with a higher mental cultivation level, but I don’t think that’s in the cards for you. You’re a fighter, a warrior, and that means you will probably just get a flat improvement in those skills.>

“That would at least make sense.” Grant had moved on to scrubbing his armor, trying to get the sweat stains out of the leather clasps that held it together. “I just didn’t know if there was anything special to look forward to.”

<Don’t be in a rush to put too much on your plate, Grant. There can also be downsides. It’s usually in the changing of cultivation ranks that people’s methods will deviate, and something goes terribly wrong. Having sudden, drastic shifts to your mind? Let’s just say that it’s always good to make sure that change is careful.> Sarge let out a long sigh. <Now, don’t let this eat up too much of your thoughts. You already have quite a full list of things to do. Besides, you have a different goal right now. Remember: civilize the mind, but make savage the body.>

“That… that’s something I can do.”