As the fuse hissed, Arthur, who had been standing still, charged straight at the beggar.
Arthur had always feared death.
Who could possibly not fear death?
Even the heroes of legend feared death, yet they still chose to face it. That was why they were called heroes.
The courage to face death head-on was the most beautiful hymn of all!
Arthur could not reach such heights, nor did he possess that kind of spirit.
He simply felt that if he could not live, he would take the person killing him down with him.
It was that simple.
There was nothing noble about it.
Nothing virtuous, either.
It might even cause innocent casualties.
But Arthur had no regrets!
He stared fixedly at the beggar, at the hand about to plunge into his chest.
Then...
He saw fear!
He saw fear in the beggar's eyes!
Not fear of him!
Nor of the explosives on his body!
But the Marionette Doll!
The Marionette Doll in the hall beyond the corridor, displayed alongside a suit of armor and instruments of torture, serving only as a prop to create a frightening atmosphere.
"The doll! The doll!"
The beggar stared at the Marionette Doll and cried out in terror.
Then, without paying Arthur any further attention, he turned and ran.
Arthur froze.
Then he pinched out the fuse.
He had never imagined he could escape death at a moment like this, much less that a Marionette Doll meant to frighten ordinary people could scare off someone from the Mystical Side!
What had he encountered?
Had this so-called doll or scarecrow made him like this?
As Arthur pondered, he hurried toward the front door.
The door of 2 Kirk Street had remained open since the beggar burst in. Although there were few pedestrians on Kirk Street in the afternoon, there were still some, and the wreckage inside 2 Kirk Street was hardly fit for public viewing.
The doorframe is still sturdy enough. It won't need replacing for now, but the spears and kerosene need to be reloaded. I'll need to prepare another crimson painting, repair the deer's head, and deal with these burn marks. That last part will be the real job.
Naturally, outsiders could not be allowed to discover the secrets of 2 Kirk Street, so Arthur would have to handle these repairs himself.
The thought of spending the next two days as a carpenter and painter made Arthur sigh.
His only consolation was that his predecessor's memories held considerable experience.
A profession like "Medium" always came with danger.
In his predecessor's memories, 2 Kirk Street had been broken into five times. In the most dangerous incident, the intruder had made it into an upstairs "bedroom" before being bitten to death by the black widow hidden there.
However, after it nearly bit his predecessor during a feeding, Old Charlie had been forced to move the black widow elsewhere and change the traps in those upstairs "bedrooms."
Perhaps I could keep some venomous snakes?
Arthur immediately thought of [Serpent Tongue], the trait of his talent [Remnant Dark Serpent]: communicating with snakes and, to a certain extent, commanding them.
It seemed that this could considerably improve the defenses of 2 Kirk Street.
However, he would have to think carefully about where to obtain them.
Otherwise, someone might make a connection.
After all, the toad earlier had come chasing Xiudik.
And the beggar had been drawn here by the toad, nearly killing him just now.
One thing leads straight to another!
I wonder how long it'll take for this smell to disappear completely!
Arthur lowered his head and sniffed the stench on his hands. It seemed considerably weaker than it had that morning, but some still lingered.
Clearly, the stench would eventually fade with time.
That allowed Arthur to breathe a small sigh of relief.
He feared no enemy, but that did not mean he wanted to fight an endless stream of them.
At the very least, he ought to have a moment to catch his breath.
Until the stench disappears completely, I'll stay at 2 Kirk Street!
Arthur silently resolved to do so and raised his hand to close the door, but just then, his gaze happened to pass over the fine cuts in the doorframe.
The moment he saw those cuts, Arthur involuntarily recalled the beggar "practicing swordsmanship" at the doorway.
His fingers unconsciously brushed over the scars in the wooden frame.
In his mind, the image of the beggar wielding an invisible sword grew increasingly clear.
Without realizing it, Arthur began moving his hand in imitation of the beggar in his memories.
There was no sharp whistle through the air.
Nor did he have the ability to cut through the doorframe.
All he had was-
[Spend 5 XP to learn Pseudo Swiftbird Swordsmanship: yes/no?]
"Hm?"
Arthur froze, then immediately chose yes.
Though the beggar had been utterly deranged, his strength was beyond question. If Arthur could learn his swordsmanship, he certainly would.
Even if it was only "pseudo"!
[False Swiftbird Swordsmanship Lv1: Swiftbird Swordsmanship was originally a secret art of the Grand Duke of South County's family. However, with the outbreak of the Seven-Year War, the Grand Duke of South County had no choice but to teach portions of it within the army to train more warriors and swordsmen. Over time, interested nobles collected these teachings, gradually piecing the art back together; however, what you have learned is only superficial. You have grasped only its form, but it still possesses extraordinary power; effect: when you use your self-developed Swiftbird sword stance, your next sword strike gains an additional +0.1 speed.]
Knowledge and body began to synchronize.
Several seconds later, the instant Arthur opened his eyes, he turned sideways and bent his knees. He held his left hand in front of him, four fingers together and his thumb spread, forming a rest for the invisible sword loosely gripped in his right hand. As his slightly bent legs straightened, his sword hand thrust forward from behind.
Whoosh!
Arthur surged forward two meters, piercing his imagined enemy's throat.
Was that an extra 0.1 speed added to my 1.7 [Physique]?
With his eyes closed, Arthur carefully felt out the difference.
Unlike the all-around improvement from [Physique], [False Swiftbird Swordsmanship] increased only speed, but that did not mean it was weak.
On the contrary, in a fight to the death where the slightest difference could decide everything, [False Swiftbird Swordsmanship]'s 0.1 speed increase was quite powerful.
Enough to change the outcome of a battle.
Of course, Arthur would never deny that an increase of only 0.1 speed was too little.
So-
Add points!
After another 10 XP was deducted, [False Swiftbird Swordsmanship] rose to Lv2.
[False Swiftbird Swordsmanship Lv2: Though you have grasped only the form of Swiftbird Swordsmanship, you never stopped recalling and practicing it. Effort rewards the dedicated, and you have taken another step forward; effect: when you use your self-developed Swiftbird sword stance, your next sword strike gains an additional +0.2 speed.]
A deeper synchronization of knowledge and body began.
Arthur felt as though he had trained diligently every day, undeterred by wind or rain, heat or cold. By the time he came back to himself, he had mastered [False Swiftbird Swordsmanship Lv2].
His speed had increased further.
But his [Physique] still had not increased.
Arthur was not disappointed.
He already knew that the higher his [Physique] became, the harder it would be to increase.
Glancing at [False Swiftbird Swordsmanship], which required 20 XP to reach Lv3, and his remaining 5 XP, Arthur considered silently.
The murder case at the Swordsmanship Club today should give me enough to upgrade [False Swiftbird Swordsmanship].
I wonder what the real [Swiftbird Swordsmanship] would be like?
Human desire knew no bounds.
Arthur certainly would not argue with that.
When he had known only [Basic Swordsmanship], he had wanted to learn other sword arts. Once he had learned the rudiments of another art, naturally, he wanted its true teachings.
And his hope of obtaining those true teachings naturally lay with that beggar.
I hope Wiggins brings back good news!
Arthur's thought was half serious, half joking.
Before discovering the beggar's strength, Arthur had held considerable confidence in Wiggins. After witnessing it, however, he had lowered his expectations as far as they could go.
Or rather, he had abandoned hope entirely.
Yet surprises always came at times like these.
Before you continue