Dokeshi March ~ 14!

Grant was awakened by the sound of something frying in a pan. It was probably the most effective way to wake him up from a dead sleep, next to a giant spider attacking him.

<Move!> An orange spider dropped down from the ceiling rafters, and Grant sliced it in half by reflex using Iaijutsu. He didn’t even open his eyes, merely pulling, slicing, and putting the sword away in one smooth motion by instinct.

Prerequisite met: 10,000 successful uses of Iaijutsu!

Skill increase: Iaijutsu Novice -> Beginner! Beginner bonus: Perfect Aim. If you can use any sense to detect something coming for you, your sword will be there.

<Wow. Maybe I have been throwing a lot of stuff at you.>

“I take it Sarge is already starting your daily training?” Suki was crouched over the grate in the fireplace, flipping what looked like pancakes in a frying pan. “I decided to let you get some rest, so sunrise is only about two hours away. After we eat, I’ll take a nap while you clean yourself up outside. The well is by the stables.”

“I saw that you have soap.” She wrinkled her nose as he got closer. “You need it.”

“Thank you.” Grant stretched and rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the soreness from sleeping in armor. “I agree that I need to clean up before we leave. I can smell myself.”

He got a little closer to lean over and take a peek at what she was cooking. It looked like pancakes, but it didn’t smell like any Grant had eaten before. “What kind of pancakes are those?”

“Oh, these aren’t pancakes.” She flipped a pancake-shaped food item before grinning up at Grant. “These are dehydrated salmon-oatcakes! I blended them myself. They will give you the energy you need to face the day!”

“I’m sure they will.” The dejected tone of his voice went completely over her head.

“The salmon is a variant from District February’s northern mountain streams, and it has been proven to have the highest protein content of all non-monster fish ever harvested in February.” Suki’s excitement at the high quality of the food she had packed was evident in her wavy hand motions and faster speech. She sounded like a person trying to make a sale. “The oats are grown in the deepest valleys of the southern plains, where the soil imparts the best nutrients seen this side of the January border.”

“But… pancakes are just supposed to be delicious.” His whisper fell on deaf ears.

<I think this explains some of the ridiculous food prices in District February.> Sarge was obviously amused at Grant’s continued struggles to find what he thought of as ‘good’ food. <On the bright side, your body really does need a lot of protein to recover properly from the healing yesterday.>

They ate quickly, with Suki humming happily as she ate the dry, fishy patties. Grant practically ran out to the stable yard so he could drink almost a full bucket of water. The patties somehow managed both to be wet, as well as suck all the moisture out of his mouth at the same time. From there, it took a lot longer than he expected to get clean. The dried blood of the Uchi-Oni had turned into a kind of sticky paste that just didn’t want to come out of the creases in his armor. Or his hair, for that matter.

He was contemplating just cutting the congealed mess off when the sound of a snapping twig forced him to look up from his cleaning. The sun had yet to peek over the horizon, and a group of four men in the cut of clothes that House Tuesday traditionally wore were stumbling around in the twilight.

“Are you sure you saw smoke coming from the chimney?” A high-pitched, scratchy voice echoed down the narrow alley into the stable yard where Grant stood.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down, you idiot!” A clunking sound of metal meeting metal soon followed. “If anyone is in there, we don’t want them to know where we are.”

The second voice sounded like an older man, who carried the tone of someone used to giving orders.

“Why does it matter?” The third voice was much deeper, and obviously came from the biggest of the four. “We stole these uniforms from the Peacekeepers, so anyone we order around should listen.”

“Yeah! This should be the easiest robbery in the history of robberies!” The fourth voice sounded like someone too young to be associated with bandits, and it set Grant on edge. He had been robbed by the desperate in the past, and he didn’t relish the thought of losing his armor and belongings again.

<This group sounds harmless, but you need to treat every battle like your life depends on it.> Sarge paused for effect. <Because it does. I’ll cut you.>

“Suki let me get some extra sleep. I think I can take care of these four without disturbing her.” He quickly started strapping his still-wet armor on, doing his best to keep it quiet. “I don’t want to kill them, but I will if I have to.”

<A warrior is useless if he does not rise above others.> Grant took that as encouragement as he buckled his sword over his armor and looked down at it.

“Just so we’re clear… what is that supposed to mean? I just said I was going to beat them.” He eased out into the narrow alley that led to the street from the stables. “Am I supposed to stand over them after I win?”

<Let’s not worry about that. Defeat them quickly, and try to keep it quiet.> Sarge sounded exasperated, which mirrored Grant’s emotions perfectly. <We really need to get your mental cultivation higher.>

“Gentlemen, I believe you are looking for me.” Grant stepped out of the alley onto the street behind the four bandits. They all jumped and spun around, pointing their weapons at him. It was hard to see, with only the first rays of the sun starting to brighten the sky, but it was immediately clear these men had nothing to do with the Peacekeepers. All four were carrying spears, but they were obviously of low quality; more like broomsticks with a piece of pointy metal nailed on the end. “I have no fight with you. I suggest you take those stolen uniforms off, and end this before something bad happens to you. No one would ever believe men so poorly armed were Vassals of House Tuesday.”

“Ha!” The man with the high-pitched voice took a step forward. “There’s four of us, and only one of you. I think you should be the one to think about… stuff!”

“Yeah, what he said. Just give us your Time, and we’ll be on our way. You can’t win.” The big man with the deep voice planted the butt of his spear on the ground, leaning it forward in a threatening manner. “Numbers make all the difference in District March.”

“Let’s just stick him and get out of here. We can’t be the only ones who saw his smoke.” The young bandit was hunting around quickly, as if waiting for someone to sneak up behind him. Which was actually what Grant had just done, so maybe he wasn’t unnecessarily paranoid. “There are bigger groups than us running around out here.”

Instead of continuing the conversation, Grant unsheathed his uchigatana and swiped through three of the four spears pointed in his direction. The young kid was too far back to reach without Grant exposing his side, and his ribs were too sore to take even a light punch from the big guy. All four stumbled back in surprise as their spears became sticks. Grant calmly lifted his sword diagonally across his torso. They all stood in silence for a few heartbeats, the bandits clearly not experienced enough to be used to sudden displays of violence.

“Well boys, I think I’m going to call it a day. It’s too early to deal with a Wielder.” The older man straightened up and tossed his stick to the ground. “The system must be down still, because we didn’t see the combat screens… so. I guess now’s the time to get some honest trading done in the market before a Vassal gets out here. This was a stupid idea, anyway.” He gave Grant a nod and turned around to walk away.

“Just like that?” The man with the high-pitched voice stomped his foot in anger. “You’re just going to give up without even trying?” The other two were already backing away, following in the wake of the older man. “I’m no chicken!”

He reached out and snatched the spear from the younger bandit, spinning to stab Grant in the chest with it.

Damage taken: 0 piercing (12 mitigated)

The makeshift spearpoint bent flat against the metal bands that made up Grant’s chest armor. It did rock him back a step, and the ache in his ribs intensified with the blow; his new ‘skill’ caused the pain in his wounds to be even more alarming. Grimacing, he smacked the flat of his blade against the temple of the bandit, dropping him like a stone.

<I told you to take every fight seriously! Just because it looked like the fight was over didn’t mean it was over!> Grant grunted in agreement at Sarge’s words. He had let his guard down, and he’d paid for it with some aggravated ribs. He knew that if the bandit had been an actual cultivator, it could have been far worse. <Expect some serious training after this.>

“I know. I’ll do better,” Grant mumbled under his breath. “Come get your friend and get out of here. I have a long way to travel today. Perhaps think about giving up banditry! It doesn’t suit you!”

The three men scrambled to pick up their unconscious compatriot and quickly started away. Sarge waited for Grant to sheathe his sword and head back to the well to finish cleaning the gunk from his hair.  <The sun is up. Time to wake Suki and get moving. Good job not killing them. I’d bet they’re not worth a single minute of cultivation.>

“Is that the only reason you’re glad I didn’t kill random people that couldn’t hurt me even if they threw everything they had at me?” Grant scathingly retorted.

<No,> Sarge answered kindly. <Even though that man caused you pain, you held back. No matter how much you hate, or how much you suffer, you can't bring the dead back to life. You’re starting to display qualities I would want in the man that will be the King.>

This time, Grant understood exactly what Sarge was trying to say. His cheeks were tinged with red as he hurried to rouse Suki.