Chapter 10: The End of a Fulfilling Day
At the training grounds, several groups were already at work. One man was sparring one-on-one with an instructor, while a woman silently loosed arrow after arrow at her target. Everyone was focused, absorbed in their own training.
Jin felt his spine straighten, a sense of resolve tightening within him.
"You there—the one wanting sword training?"
A bald-headed man called out as Jin lingered at the entrance. The man stood taller and broader than Jin’s set height of 185 cm, his age perhaps around fifty. Yet his body showed no signs of decline—muscles still taut with strength. Scars ran from his cheek to his jaw, offset by surprisingly gentle eyes.
Most striking of all, though, was the way his bald head gleamed in the sunlight.
"Yes. Are you Instructor Greg?"
"That’s right. I teach more than just swords—shields, bows, too. But for you, swordsmanship, yes?"
"Yes, I’d like to start with swordsmanship today. Though eventually, I’d like to learn the others as well."
"Hmph. Ambition is a good thing. Come with me."
Greg led Jin to a quiet corner, away from the others.
"First, I’ll test your ability. Take that sword at your waist and show me your swing."
"Yes, sir."
Jin gripped the wooden sword with both hands, recalling his school kendo lessons. From a proper stance, he drew it back and cut forward with force.
"Oh?"
Greg let out a sound of mild approval. After watching a few more swings, he raised a hand to stop Jin.
"You’ve trained before, it seems. But don’t stop the blade halfway. That’s for staff strikes or light weapons when you want more impact. With a sword, you cut all the way through before stopping."
Following Greg’s correction, Jin completed the swings in full. The added acceleration made halting the blade require real strength.
"Next, diagonal strikes. Right shoulder to left hip! Then left shoulder to right hip! Again!"
It was the form known as kesagiri. Jin repeated the cuts again and again.
"Good. A straight strike is the fastest and strongest. But it’s also easy to dodge with a simple twist of the body. Diagonal cuts travel a longer path, so they’re slightly slower—but much harder to avoid. Either way, a single predictable pattern will be useless. Learn to vary your strikes."
Greg drilled him in several more forms, correcting details with relentless precision. Jin repeated each swing, over and over, absorbing everything at astonishing speed.
"All right, next. What I’ve shown you so far was for a two-handed sword. Now let’s try one-handed. Your weapon works both ways—learn to adapt."
Jin shifted his grip to one hand, raising the sword before him once more.
"Same as before. Raise it… strike! From the left, diagonal! From the right, diagonal! Yes, like that!"
Swing after swing, he followed the instructions.
"With one hand, you’ll usually carry a shield in the other. But if you’re empty-handed, turn your body sideways—make yourself a smaller target. Good. Now thrust! Keep your elbow tucked… thrust! Again! Left foot forward, drive in with the right… and thrust! That’s it—close the gap!"
On and on it went, corrections and repetitions without end. Each time Greg deemed a form acceptable, he immediately pushed Jin to the next. The pace was brutal, yet Jin devoured the training, body and mind moving as one.
"Stop. Rest a bit."
Jin hadn’t even noticed how drenched he was in sweat until now.
"You stayed focused. Didn’t tire out. Impressive—you absorbed so much so quickly, I just kept pushing."
Greg tossed him a towel with a grin. Jin caught it, thanked him, and wiped his face before downing a cup of water in one gulp.
He had no idea how much time had passed, but he felt a deep, satisfying fatigue. To watch his movements improve so rapidly under instruction thrilled him. For someone who’d once been unathletic and clumsy, this sense of growth was fresh, exhilarating—proof that he was becoming stronger.
"Normally, wooden weapons are for practice," Greg remarked, eyeing Jin’s sword. "But yours looks solid. Still—are you really planning to venture out with that?"
"I was at first," Jin admitted. "But wood lacks a cutting edge. Since today’s swordsmanship training is based on slashing, I think I should buy a proper blade tomorrow."
He liked the wooden sword, but for real combat, a metal weapon was the safer choice.
"True enough. Wood also lacks durability. Still, swordsmanship skills branch depending on your weapon. Stick to two-handers; you might gain ‘Two-Handed Swordmanship.’ One-handers, ‘One-Handed Swordmanship.’ Some weapons lead to even finer specialties. Who knows—use that thing long enough and you might awaken ‘Wooden Swordmanship.’ If such a thing exists, that is."
Greg laughed heartily, clapping Jin on the shoulder. Jin couldn’t help but think—if that skill really did exist, he’d love to learn it.
"All right, break’s over. If you’re replacing your sword anyway, try this next."
He handed Jin a dulled steel practice sword.
"Normally, I’d drill the basics longer, but you’re absurdly quick to learn—and tough. What I taught you just now was only the foundation, but you’ll shape it further in battle. From my perspective, your basics are solid. All that remains is to fight and awaken the skill yourself."
Greg hefted his own sword onto his shoulder, beckoning.
"So—come at me."
Even with the invitation, Jin hesitated. It was the same setup as his tutorial with Chris—but unlike then, the instructor’s words lacked the gentle reassurance that made sparring less terrifying.
"Don’t worry. I’ll pull my strikes. You won’t get hurt. Now—come!"
With that, Jin had no choice. He steeled himself, knowing Greg was leagues above him, and shouted his reply with all the spirit he could muster before charging in.
—And some ten minutes later, Jin was on the ground, drenched in sweat, gasping for air.
"You’re really something, kid."
Greg passed him another towel and a cup of water.
"Th-thank you… I’ll take it."
Jin drank it down in one go, catching his breath.
"Even holding back, you reacted to my strikes well. Got in a few good hits too—almost made me sweat."
Jin had truly given his all. With the talent for martial arts blessing his body, he had felt his strikes land with real force. Yet Greg never once looked pressured. His calm never wavered, effortlessly deflecting attacks and punishing hesitation. Jin could only throw himself forward again and again, wholly consumed by the bout.
Jin figured the instructor had been holding back just enough not to crush his spirit.
Even though he was exhausted to the bone, he didn’t harbor a shred of resentment.
It must be no small effort to spar with a rookie like him, yet the man hadn’t cut corners—he had given Jin everything he had.
Of course, Jin already knew what words to say.
"Thank you very much. But you don’t need to go easy on me—I’ll be fine."
He caught his breath and smiled as he spoke.
It had been decades—maybe for the first time in his life—that he’d pushed his body to its absolute limits. Even the fatigue felt strangely pleasant. And the way his ragged breathing was already calming down—ah, youth really was amazing. Jin was utterly satisfied.
Greg chuckled at Jin’s words, but then his face grew unexpectedly serious.
"No, I’m not just being polite. An ordinary guy would’ve collapsed ages ago. You don’t just pick things up fast—you’ve got crazy stamina, too. A rookie at your level shouldn’t be able to last through continuous sparring this long. Don’t get cocky, but hold your head high—you’ve got talent. I’ll vouch for that."
Jin was stunned into silence. He’d never been told such a thing before.
But then again, he did have the gift of "Martial Talent" and had literally been rejuvenated. He was still a stranger to his own body, still unused to the reality of suddenly being reborn in another world.
"Normally, when you tell someone they have talent, they get carried away. But for some reason… I feel like you’ll be fine."
Greg added this with a wry grin, as if to say Don’t forget it.
"Thank you. I’ll take that to heart," Jin replied earnestly.
In his past life, no one had ever told him he had talent. Even if it was thanks to a skill, the words made him genuinely happy.
"All right. That’s it for today’s training. Normally, you’d go to the temple to confirm your skill, but that’s a hassle. You’re fine. Head over to reception and get your adventurer registration done."
From his phrasing, it seemed that checking one’s skills at the temple was the standard procedure. Jin, of course, could just open his Menu and know instantly—but he decided to play along with the customs of this world.
"Thank you for your instruction, Instructor Greg. And about the towel and such—what should I do with them?"
"Hm? Ah, just toss ’em in that basket by the exit on your way out."
Greg gave him a bemused look, then chuckled and pointed to the large basket.
"Yes, understood. Once I’ve confirmed things at reception, I’ll come report back. Excuse me."
"Hah! You really are a straight-laced one. Go on, then."
And so, Jin once again headed to the guild counter.
The lobby was busier now, more adventurers trickling in, but not yet crowded. Within five minutes, the same receptionist as before was free.
"Thank you again for earlier. I’d like to proceed with adventurer registration."
The receptionist stared at him for a moment, then gestured for him to place his hand on the pale blue half-sphere once more.
Jin did so, nervous as he awaited the result.
"Yes. The acquisition of the Swordsmanship skill has been confirmed. Congratulations."
"Thank you very much."
His bright smile stood in stark contrast to the receptionist’s expressionless tone.
"I’m sorry, but issuing your guild card and explaining the regulations will take some time. With adventurers soon returning in droves, it will get busy. Could you come back tomorrow morning instead?"
Jin agreed—it would be inconsiderate to hog the receptionist during peak hours.
"Yes, understood. I’ll return tomorrow. Thank you again."
Smiling, he accepted and left the counter. Without noticing the receptionist’s small bow toward him, Jin headed back toward the training grounds.
Greg was waiting for him at the entrance.
"Instructor Greg—I confirmed I’ve learned Swordsmanship. It’s all thanks to your guidance."
The thought of finally becoming an adventurer tomorrow made Jin’s face break into a grin he couldn’t quite suppress.
"That was fast. Already done?"
"Not quite. It was getting crowded, so I just had them confirm the skill. The formal process will be tomorrow."
"I see. So it’s that time already…"
"Yes. I plan to use tomorrow morning to prepare equipment and supplies, then come to the guild around midday."
"I see."
Greg paused in thought.
"You’ll hear about this tomorrow, but there’s a beginner training course hosted by the guild in a week. Technically, it’s optional, but all new adventurers are expected to attend. Make sure you go."
It was clearly less a suggestion than an order. But Jin was grateful—it was exactly what he needed, since he knew almost nothing of this world.
"Until then, don’t push yourself too hard. Focus on broadening your skills. You can train here if you want."
"Yes, thank you."
Jin couldn’t help but smile again, warmed by Greg’s concern.
After bidding farewell, he returned to the inn. He ate dinner, collapsed into bed, and drifted off into a deep, satisfied sleep, wrapped in both pleasant exhaustion and a sense of fulfillment.
Much later, when the guild’s work had wound down and the staff were preparing to leave, the receptionist walked alone to the training grounds.
Most of the instructors had already gone home. Only one large man remained.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Instructor Greg."
"Ah, good work, Aria."
Greg greeted the receptionist—Aria—with a smile.
"When you first told me about him, I half-doubted it… But he’s the real deal, isn’t he?"
He recalled her message from right before Jin had arrived.
A black-haired, black-eyed human male, level three with impossible stats, and not a single skill to his name.
Normally, by adulthood, people would acquire at least two or three skills. Combat-oriented ones like Swordsmanship required proper training, but daily-life skills—Sewing, Cooking, Farming, Haggling—could be gained naturally through routine activities. A farmer’s child might awaken Plowing or Harvesting; a merchant’s child, Negotiation or Haggling. Unless one had some unusual circumstance—like illness preventing any activity—having no skills at all was virtually impossible.
But Jin possessed no skills whatsoever. Strictly speaking, they simply weren’t showing on the surface—but of course, Greg and the others had no way of knowing that.
And yet, his stats were far too high for someone at level three.
There were slight differences depending on race, but for ordinary humans, their starting attributes (except HP and MP) usually ranged between 5 and 10. Each level-up increased them by 1 to 3 points, though in practice, the gain was almost always 1. Occasionally, it could be 2, but a growth of 3 was rare, even for those with extraordinary talent.
HP was determined by the sum of STR and VIT at level 1, and with each level-up, it rose by half that amount. MP, meanwhile, began equal to INT and increased by half of that initial value.
For reference, here’s the average human’s stats at level 3 (assuming +2 per level):
Level 1 → Level 3
HP: 14 → 28
MP: 7 → 14
STR: 7 → 11
VIT: 7 → 11
INT: 7 → 11
DEX: 7 → 11
AGI: 7 → 11
And even if we imagine an utterly impossible case—someone with maxed-out starting values and perfect growth (+3 each time)—it would look like this:
Level 1 → Level 3
HP: 20 → 40
MP: 10 → 20
STR: 10 → 16
VIT: 10 → 16
INT: 10 → 16
DEX: 10 → 16
AGI: 10 → 16
Now compare that to Jin’s stats:
Level 1 → Level 3
HP: 23 → 49
MP: 10 → 20
STR: 13 → 23
VIT: 12 → 20
INT: 10 → 14
DEX: 12 → 20
AGI: 12 → 20
His attributes rose by 2 at each level, with HP and MP scaling from their base values, plus additional corrections from skill bonuses.
As a result, his current stats were roughly double those of an ordinary human. And even compared to someone with the highest conceivable talent, Jin surpassed them by about thirty percent in everything except INT and MP. Considering how rare such "ideal humans" were in the first place, Jin’s existence was outright impossible.
"He doesn’t have a divine blessing, does he?"
"No. There was no such indication."
Some rare humans granted blessings by the gods did possess abnormally high stats—but Jin had no such mark.
"And what do you think of him, Instructor Greg?"
Aria asked. She wanted Greg to judge this unknown man named Jin for himself.
"That one’s definitely abnormal. Everything I taught, he absorbed instantly. His stamina is unbelievable for that level. I sparred with him too, and he improved before my eyes. It’s been ages since I was certain mid-training that someone had awakened a skill—and he did it in no time at all. At this rate, he’ll be picking up new skills left and right. I’ve never seen, never even heard of anyone like him."
Greg’s face was stern. As one of the guild’s supervisors, he was obligated to treat a special case like Jin with caution.
But then his expression softened.
"Still… the kid always looked like he was having fun. You could tell he felt himself improving—he was grinning the whole time, full of life. He’s polite, too. A bit too polite, maybe. And he’s open to others’ opinions—genuinely receptive."
Hearing Greg’s evaluation, Aria recalled her own impressions.
At first, his abnormality had set her on edge. But when she’d told him he couldn’t register as an adventurer—just to test his reaction—he’d responded with such honest bewilderment that it disarmed her completely. Then he’d thanked her with a beaming smile, and even left with a cheerful, "I’ll be on my way, then." She couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to her. Her wariness had been cut in half right then and there.
And after all his effort to finally gain a skill, he’d accepted the delay in adventurer registration without complaint—just smiled as if it were only natural. That unfeigned, guileless smile had almost made her feel guilty.
"You’re of the same mind, I see. He’s no problem. And that’s all that matters. His past, his origins—they don’t concern us."
Greg must have read something in Aria’s usually expressionless face, for he said this with quiet conviction. Normally, a deeper investigation might be warranted. But stirring up trouble needlessly could only backfire. Greg chose to trust his intuition, which had never failed him before.
"Yes. Then we will treat him as an ordinary adventurer going forward, correct?"
Aria voiced her agreement without objection.
"No—give him as much support as you can. If he keeps growing at this pace, he’ll become a hell of a trump card for the guild. And he doesn’t seem stupid, but… he’s missing things, like someone who simply doesn’t know much. If something happens, back him up."
Greg laughed as he said it, and Aria found herself remembering Jin’s overly honest reactions. Without realizing it, she allowed the faintest of smiles to slip.
Greg watched her kindly. He hoped that Jin’s presence might prove a good influence on Aria as well.
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