“...Um,” Mico started, somewhat unsure of how to explain.
“Honestly, I don't really know why either... People just started calling me that before I even realized it.”
“Before you realized it? What on earth did you do that made people call you that without you noticing?”
“Uh...”
“...At first, I just wanted to get stronger as quickly as possible, so I sought out those gangs. But later, while fighting one of them, I discovered they were doing some truly awful things. In a fit of anger, I took all their dirty money and gave it back to some of the poor people they had victimized.”
“...From then on, every time I got furious, I'd take away those guys' dirty money. Sometimes, when the victimized commoners were hard to find, I gave the money to struggling orphanages and some poor folk.”
“In the end, by the time I realized what was happening, people were already calling me the Chivalrous Thief...”
Shulim was momentarily at a loss for words. All she could say was—
“That... really sounds like something you'd do.”
“Still...” Shulim voiced another question that arose, “If your initial goal was to get stronger, Mico, why didn't you just go to the dungeon?”
“I do go to the dungeon occasionally, but what I really want to improve is my combat skills against people. It's hard to make progress in that if you only fight dungeon monsters.”
“Combat skills against people? Is there someone you need to fight, Mico?”
Mico's gaze drifted evasively, her ears drooping slightly.
“I... I guess so.”
“I see...”
Looking at the rash cat girl who was desperate to achieve some goal, Shulim made a decision.
“Mico... I have an idea. Do you want to hear it?” Shulim said suddenly.
“Huh?” Mico looked at her in confusion. “An idea? What kind?”
Shulim replied, “Mico, would you like to team up with me and go to the dungeon?”
“Go to the dungeon?”
“I mean, I'm fine with that, but why?”
“You need combat experience against people, right?”
“Yeah, that's true.”
“Then I can spar with you.”
“Eh! Really—?!” Mico looked at Shulim in astonishment.
Shulim nodded. “Of course. Looking for people to practice on like this isn't really a solution. Take those guys just now—even if you use them as opponents, it won't help you improve your strength. In that case, it's better if I help you.”
“I'm currently teamed up with someone else training in the dungeon. If you join us, Mico, not only will it increase efficiency, but sparring among the three of us will also effectively boost your combat experience.”
“Really?! But... is it really okay for me to join?”
“I just said so. Rather, are you willing to join?”
“Of course I am!”
“Then it's settled.”
Mico was struck dumb for a moment, then slowly lowered her head. “Th-that... Shulim, thank you...”
“No need to thank me. We're friends.”
“Right, we're friends...”
“Alright, I've been delayed for quite a while, so I should get to what I need to do. Remember not to hang around outside too late at night, Mico.”
Saying that, Shulim pulled her face mask back on.
Mico stood frozen in place. Only after Shulim had walked several paces away did she finally snap out of it.
“Wait, Shulim, you're not going to stop me—?!”
Shulim turned back and looked at Mico. “Stop you from what?”
“A-About being the Chivalrous Thief...”
“Why would I stop you?”
“Uh, well, that's...”
“Mico...”
“Do you think what you're doing is bad?”
Mico shook her head.
“If it's not a bad thing, why should I stop you? If you want to keep doing it, Mico, go right ahead.”
“...”
Shulim turned around and began walking away once more.
“The people at that orphanage told me... you're amazing.”
Long after Shulim's figure had completely vanished from sight, Mico was still standing dumbly in place, though the light in her eyes seemed to shine ever brighter...
...
“My~ your friend is quite interesting. It's rare to see someone become a Chivalrous Thief at such a young age. That's truly promising~.”
“Ilus, are you teasing me or praising her...?” Shulim asked, setting down her teacup.
“Praising her, of course. I rarely praise anyone, you know. That little girl named Mico can be proud of that.”
“Is that so...? Yeah, okay, got it. I'll pass that along to her,” Shulim stated in a flat, mechanical monotone.
Ilus showed an amused expression and poked Shulim's forehead with a finger. “Next time you brush someone off, at least try to manage your facial expressions~.”
“No, I did that on purpose.”
“My~! That's truly heartbreaking~!”
Ilus feigned grief by covering her face for a second, then glanced at Shulim's back and asked, “By the way, where is your magic steel sword?”
Every time Shulim came to Ilus's shop before, she carried both a sword and a wand, but today she only had the wand.
“The sword suffered some damage. On my way here, I dropped it off with Zargin for repairs.”
Besides, it was a mithril magic steel sword, not a magic steel sword...
“Damage? What did you use it for? That sword wouldn't break so easily just from dealing with monsters, right?”
“Mm... Indeed, it wasn't damaged in combat. It happened from practicing swordsmanship. 'Thunderstrike,' the final stance of Hayeral Swordsmanship, is an immensely powerful technique. Although my current sword can withstand its use, extensive practice inevitably caused some wear and tear.”
“Hayeral Swordsmanship? Ah—now that you mention it, Orubet did seem to create his own sword style back then!”
Ilus recalled memories of the past, but then a puzzled expression crept onto her face.
“Wait... that's not right—”
“Shulim, did you just say you've already practiced up to the final stance of Hayeral Swordsmanship?”
“?”
Although Shulim didn't know why Ilus was asking, she still nodded.
“That's strange. I remember him mentioning to me that it was an S-Class swordsmanship style... Have you really practiced to that level already?”
“???”
“Wait, hold on a second, Ilus!” Shulim quickly interrupted her.
“Let me confirm something first... Ilus, did my ancestor ever tell you how many stances his swordsmanship had?”
“Well, let me think... Oh right, seven stances, I think!”
“...”
“What's wrong...? Is something amiss?”
After a few seconds of silence, Shulim slowly answered:
“...The swordsmanship passed down in our family only has five stances in total.”
“...”
“Uh... In other words... Orubet didn't pass down the A-Class and S-Class portions of the swordsmanship to you guys?”
“That seems to be the only explanation.”
Hearing that, Ilus gave a rather speechless look.
“Cough, cough... How should I put it? That man really was... someone who did things entirely his own way.”
Rate on N.U.
