Chapter 7: Tutorial (7)

“Ha-na, stop. I’ve spotted kobolds.”

“How many… Fourteen? Preparing for combat.”

After the brief hiccup with the quest reward, we immediately started hunting.

Our first target was the weakest monster: the kobold. However, there were fourteen of them, outnumbering us seven to one.

“Woof!”

“Grrr! Bark!”

But the kobolds only barked and snarled; they didn’t attack. The reason was simple.

Despite being monsters, kobolds were only the size of elementary school children and lacked any significant weaponry.

All they had were their teeth and claws. We, on the other hand, were equipped with high-quality armor and weapons forged with advanced materials engineering.

The monsters hesitated because they sensed the difference. But this standoff wouldn’t last forever.

So, striking first was essential.

“Throwing Knife!”

Capitalizing on the monsters’ hesitation, Yoo Ha-na launched the pre-planned first attack. The skill, Throwing Knife.

Just a simple knife throw, but enhanced by mana, it possessed near-perfect accuracy.

Two daggers flew straight and true, embedding themselves in the throats of the two kobolds at the front, killing them instantly.

“Ha-na, do you really have to announce your skill like that? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“I-I can’t help it! Until my skill level increases, I have to say it out loud to activate it!”

That’s so cheesy… Modern readers dislike this whole “shouting skill names in English” thing. I bet some readers dropped the novel right there.

Anyway, putting aside my thoughts, Yoo Ha-na’s preemptive strike had achieved its intended effect, breaking the enemy formation and giving us the upper hand.

Now it was my turn to seize the opening and unleash chaos—with the swordsmanship I’d forged through five grueling days of blood, sweat, and relentless effort.

– “The swordsmanship you learned is… for show. Like a performance.”

– “The system is well-structured, and the meaning behind each movement is sound. However, its lethality has been intentionally neutered. It’s inefficient for actual combat.”

Instructor Moo-yeon had assessed my Korean Kumdo swordsmanship and offered that critique. He was right. Modern kendo was a sport.

What was the point of incorporating lethal moves into a sport? If someone died during a kendo match, the Korean Kumdo Association would be shut down.

– “That… Bongukgeombeop, was it? We’ll start by deconstructing its principles and integrating lethal techniques.”

[ TL Note: Bongukgeombeop refers to a traditional style of Korean swordsmanship, often practiced in martial arts like Kumdo. The name literally means “National Sword Techniques” and emphasizes Korea’s indigenous fencing principles.]

So, Instructor Moo-yeon had reached a single conclusion: Modify the swordsmanship. He took the Bongukgeombeop forms I had learned through rote memorization for my black belt test and infused them with killing intent.

The result was a reborn Bongukgeombeop, which I had successfully mastered.

This new, combat-oriented Bongukgeombeop… I dubbed it “Vagabond Bongukgeombeop.”

“‘Vagabond Bongukgeombeop.’ So
charismatic.”

After a brief moment of self-admiration, I refocused on the battle. Despite eliminating two kobolds with Yoo Ha-na’s initial attack, we were still outnumbered.

“Grrr… Woof!”

“Woof woof woof!”

The initial shock wore off, and the kobolds charged as I advanced into their ranks.

“Grrr… Woof!”

A kobold scurried towards me on all fours. I slashed diagonally from its left shoulder to its right hip.

Balchosimsa (Cutting the Snake in the Grass).

Like cutting down a snake leaping from the bushes, the foolish mutt was bisected.

“Eleven left.”

I immediately lunged forward, targeting a kobold stunned by its companion’s death.

Pyo-du-ap-jeong (Leopard’s Head Pressing Down).

A stance where you press down on the opponent’s head with the tip of your sword. But since that lacked lethality, Instructor Moo-yeon had advised aiming for the eyes and scrambling their brains.

“Keck… Gurgling…”

I thrust my sword into the kobold’s right eye socket, pushing it until it hit the back of its skull, then twisted and pulled it out.

That was enough to kill the beast.

“Ten left.”

“Woof woof woof!”

“Bark! Yelp!”

After a thrust, you had to withdraw and sheathe your sword. But the kobolds seized the opportunity and attacked from behind.

So…

Jwa-hyeop-su-du (Left Shoulder Beast Head), Hyang-u-bang-jeok (Facing Right, Guarding Against Thieves).

I rested my sword on my left shoulder, raised my right foot high, stepped back with it, and spun around, delivering a wide horizontal slash.

I was weak, but I swung my sword with the cold-blooded intent of a swordsman cleaving heaven and earth. Three headless kobold corpses lay where my blade had passed.

“Huff… Huff… Seven left.”

Combat was more physically demanding than I had anticipated. Living creatures were surprisingly resilient, requiring precise swordsmanship and efficient energy management.

I was quickly becoming exhausted. I needed a moment to catch my breath. But seven kobolds still surrounded me.

“Grrr… Bark!”

“Woof! Yelp!”

“Bark bark bark!”

Sensing my fatigue, they attacked simultaneously. A truly desperate situation… if I had been alone.

“Throwing Knife!”

Their intelligence was truly on par with dogs. They were so distracted by my flashy swordplay that they completely ignored Yoo Ha-na.

This gave her ample time to retrieve her thrown daggers, recover her mana, and use her skill again.

“Keck!”

“Whimper! Yelp!”

The daggers found their marks, embedding themselves in the kobolds’ necks. A double kill. Only four left.

After catching my breath, that was a manageable number.

“Haa… Should we call it a day?”

“…Yes, let’s.”

We finished hunting as the sun began to set. As a veteran of the South Korean military, I knew that night was a dangerous time.

The fear of encountering a wild boar while on night duty at the ammunition depot was an indescribable sensation.

If a boar was that scary, imagine a monster. Engaging monsters with enhanced senses in the dark without night vision was suicidal.

I had no regrets, though. I had given it my all, utilizing the fruits of my five days of preparation, and the results spoke for themselves.

[Tutorial Quest 1: Monster Hunt]

[Time Remaining: 15 days 11 hours 54 minutes 45 seconds]

[Hunt the following monsters in the 1st-floor field:]
[Kobold 386/600] [Elite Kobold 26/30]
[Gnoll 27/500] [Elite Gnoll 1/15]
[Goblin 0/150] [Elite Goblin 0/10]
[Orc 0/60] [Elite Orc 0/5]

We had hunted nearly 400 kobolds in just half a day. We had also taken down some gnolls, which shared territory with the kobolds.

Gnolls were just bigger, meaner dogs with crude weapons, making them slightly more challenging opponents.

Of course, against my MAX Killing Intent Vagabond Bongukgeombeop (I decided to shorten the name), they were nothing more than ingredients for Boshintang (dog meat stew).

“Did you collect all the hides?”

“Yes, I filled my inventory with yours as well.”

“…Then let’s head back.”

In addition to the automatic rewards for killing monsters, we had collected hides and teeth, which meant extra income.

“Hyun-joon… you’re strong.”

“You did well too, Ha-na.”

“No… I just used my skills while relying on you. You handled the monsters the rest of the time.”

On the way back to town, Yoo Ha-na spoke in a slightly melancholic tone. I knew this was starting again.

Thinking back, Yoo Ha-na had displayed considerable skill, befitting a heroine, but she had also made a few minor mistakes.

They weren’t a big deal to me, now armed with Vagabond Bongukgeombeop, but her low self-esteem was causing her to dwell on those minor errors.

In times like these, a steady and reassuring approach was the most effective.

“Ha-na, listen. Nobody’s perfect from the start. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“B-but…”

“I made mistakes too, today. I mismanaged my stamina and got winded during the fight. If you hadn’t thrown those knives when I was vulnerable, I would have been done for. You saved me.”

Yoo Ha-na had played her part perfectly. She thought for herself, assessed the flow of battle, and intervened at the right moments. I couldn’t ask for a more reliable companion.

“Ha-na, you can correct your mistakes and learn from them. I don’t know everything, and I can’t do everything on my own.”

Nobody was perfect. The only person who came close to perfection in this world was the regressor, living his second life while everyone else was on their first.

“Ha-na, I need you. I need a comrade I can trust to watch my back in battle.”

As a forced participant in this world, a mere outsider and not the protagonist, I needed someone I could rely on.

Yoo Ha-na, you were a heroine. You would eventually overcome your trauma, become stronger, and stand by the protagonist’s side.

And that was a flow I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

“So, Ha-na, let’s work hard together. By learning from our shortcomings and relying on each other, we can become stronger.”

“…Yes!”

But while you were still weak and vulnerable, I, still inexperienced myself, would stand by your side.

That much, I, Go Hyun-joon, could promise.