Staying at the Wesley mansion didn''t mean doing nothing all day. Sure, lounging around browsing the internet was fine for rest, but I couldn''t spend 20 out of 24 hours just surfing the web.


    So after leaving Katie to deal with her daughter-obsessed father and their family drama, I headed to the mansion''s training grounds to practice with a sword. Given the Duke''s size, there was no way those tiny teacups of alcohol would get him drunk. As soon as Katie finished her bath, I''d dumped the daughter-obsessed father on her and quickly escaped outside.


    Better to empty my mind with physical training than deal with a daughter-obsessed man drinking vodka from teacups. That''s why I ran.@@@@


    "Is this right? These fragments only give me partial knowledge."


    Instead of my trusty warhammer of 11 years, I now held one of the practice swords used by the mansion''s guard knights. When word spread that the hero was practicing swordsmanship, curious onlookers from knights to maids gathered to watch. Unfortunately for them, there were no flashy techniques to see.


    The swordsmanship fragments had somehow melted into my consciousness, making me remember forgotten memories. I just stubbornly practiced basic moves as the fragments directed. Properly gripping the sword, feeling its balance, then endless horizontal and vertical slashes.


    It was an odd situation - working up a sweat right after bathing - but I needed to learn these skills.


    "Hmm, is the hero also accomplished in swordsmanship?"


    "He keeps cutting the same trajectory without the slightest deviation. Like a Magic Tower golem with zero errors."


    Swinging my arms left to right, right to left. After repeating the same motions until I worked up a sweat on my freshly washed body, the wooden practice dummies kept shattering under my inhuman strength. Even with a blunted practice sword, no wooden dummy could withstand a natural 6★ hammering away for an hour with a chunk of metal.


    As I mindlessly swung the sword, I came to a realization.


    ''Eleven years of habits are scary.''


    The swordsmanship ''fragments'' couldn''t completely override deeply ingrained behaviors.


    Horizontal slashes were fine, but vertical downward cuts were the problem. You know how even cheap martial arts novels always mention that horizontal cuts, vertical cuts, and thrusts are the foundation of basic sword techniques?


    Horizontal slashes felt natural from practicing with the holy sword, and I rarely used thrusts with my warhammer so those came easily too.


    The problem was vertical slashes. When I tried to swing the two-handed sword downward forcefully, something in my mind would tingle uncomfortably, screaming that this was wrong. No surprise, since I kept unconsciously swinging it like I was smashing an orc''s head with my hammer.


    Since it was an edgeless practice sword - basically just a metal bar - I kept unconsciously hammering the wooden dummies into the training ground.


    "My, embedding wooden posts into the ground with a practice sword? Remarkable power even without using mana."


    "So this is why he was desperately practicing basic techniques... such a body built through endless effort..."


    Their comments drew back the attention of knights who''d been about to leave out of boredom. While knights could probably break wooden posts given enough time, it took a special kind of crazy to hammer them into the ground with a practice sword. r?aΝоbE?s?


    Of course, I wasn''t trying to show off my muscles - these were just 11 years of ingrained habits. Their muttered praise just made me embarrassed.


    Forget effort - I''d simply maintained my game character''s body this whole time. Living the adventurer''s life of irregular sleep and meals during quests, then gorging on greasy food and alcohol afterward, yet never showing any health issues. That was the blessing of having the ultimate body.


    With those thoughts and a good sweat worked up, I put down the sword planning to rinse off and head to bed. That''s when someone approached me.


    Ann Wesley had only handled a few thieves and monsters with knights.


    Katie Wesley would have slain a Heavenly King and the Demon Lord as the hero party''s guard.


    Wouldn''t Katie Wesley clearly make the better next Grand Duke? Katie could return home triumphant after beheading the Demon Lord and become Grand Duke, while her sister Ann who''d been caring for the ducal house would gracefully yield the position to her talented sister and help strengthen the family--


    That was Ann Wesley''s grand vision.


    ''Come to think of it, Katie ran away when Ann tried to force her to train as the Grand Duke''s successor.''


    The succession fight between the North''s fiery noble ladies was still ongoing.


    "It''s nothing shameful before the Goddess. I simply want my sister to return safely and claim her rightful reward for dedicating herself to faith and justice."


    "I see."


    If I hadn''t glimpsed Katie''s circumstances through Han Se-ah''s stream or had that private chat with Arthur Wesley, I might have been moved by her apparent sisterly devotion.


    "So don''t hesitate to call on House Wesley, Sir Roland. With a father worried for his daughter and a sister wanting to support her, there''s no need to hold back."


    Ann Wesley seemed to think our party''s refusal of royal and temple support despite charging ahead recklessly was due to political considerations.


    Fair enough - Princess Bradamante, the kingdom''s most popular youngest princess, had promised unlimited support. Yet the hero party had only accepted a mansion and some equipment. Without knowledge of players, streaming, and speedrunning, our extreme frugality must seem bizarre.


    It was like a businessman refusing government subsidies and tax breaks to spend his own money. By normal common sense, our behavior made no sense.


    "So please, I implore you. For my sister''s sake, don''t hesitate to use House Wesley''s name when you need anything."


    Acting as if truly worried about her sister, Ann Wesley pressed something into my hand. Examining it, I found a hexagonal badge about the size of an adventurer''s tag, with a crouching wolf embossed on it. The crouching wolf was House Wesley''s crest - perhaps showing this wasn''t just empty words of support.


    After giving me the badge, Ann Wesley gave a quick bow and disappeared.


    As I headed to my room planning to rinse off my cooling sweat, I found Irene waiting for me in the hallway.


    "What''s wrong?"


    "Um, Roland. This..."


    She shyly held out a hexagonal badge with an engraved crouching wolf.


    ...Don''t tell me she hadn''t just given one to me, but had distributed family badges to our whole party like party favors. No wonder Han Se-ah''s camera had slipped away and hadn''t returned.


    Enjoy the chappy!