Chapter 52 : Want to Try?

It took some effort, but Milly finally managed to get Tifna settled in bed. The sudden drunken embrace had sent a jolt of panic through her, stirring unpleasant memories. But after muttering “brother,” Tifna had simply collapsed on her, fast asleep.

Honestly, if you can’t handle your liquor, don’t drink. And hugging her while calling her “brother”? There was nothing about her that resembled a man.

Tifna must have been overwhelmed with worry. The thought extinguished Milly’s annoyance.

With a sigh, she gently laid Tifna down and pulled the blanket over her. Then, she scanned the room.

It was filled with wooden training swords, and several un-sheathed iron blades hung on a rack. This room felt more like a sword saint’s than the one next door. The bookshelf was lined with books on swordsmanship. Tifna was so skilled; she must practice tirelessly.

Moonlight fell on the breastplate in front of the window. It wasn’t Tifna’s size; her own armor was carelessly tossed aside, and Milly had nearly tripped over it when she came in.

The letter on the floor was torn to shreds, its contents indecipherable except for the three clear words: “I’m sorry.” Tifna’s brother must have left it. He had disappeared without a word, and even after Tifna had been away for half a month, he still hadn’t returned. Overwhelmed, Tifna must have torn up the letter and turned to alcohol to numb the pain.

It was the only explanation that made sense. With a final glance at the sleeping Tifna, Milly quietly closed the door.

Tifna was asleep, and it wouldn’t be right to snoop around her house.

Milly went downstairs and washed her clothes by hand, muttering to herself about the lack of washing machines in this world. She was used to machine washing; this was a chore. Especially since she was washing a delicate dress she’d never handled before. She was careful, afraid of tearing it.

She hung the clothes on the line out front. Seeing her panties fluttering in the breeze, Milly blushed. Well, she’d just have to go commando for now. At least she didn’t have to worry about Stacy’s nightly visits.

Back in her room, she lay down and pulled up the covers, but she couldn’t sleep.

Stacy had dumped her in the forest and vanished. It had been two days since Tifna found her. Had Stacy really given up on her?

If so, it was a relief. But she was dealing with a paranoid pervert. Who would believe that Stacy would just let her go?

Now that she was back in Starlight City, if Stacy was still lurking around, they were bound to run into each other eventually. Who knew what would happen then?

Tossing and turning with anxiety, Milly finally drifted off as the first light of dawn appeared.

Cold…

So cold…

She opened her eyes and found herself back in the freezing cage. Outside, Stacy was watching her with a cold smile.

“Little Milly, did you really think you could escape?”

Stacy’s voice slithered into her ears like a snake. Milly tried to summon Broken, but to her horror, her newly awakened power was gone.

No… why? Before she could figure it out, the cage door clicked open. Stacy grabbed her by the throat and dragged her out.

Ugh… Stacy’s grip was so strong, she could barely breathe. Her weak punches and kicks did nothing, not even making Stacy flinch.

Just as she was about to pass out, her body went light. Stacy had let go, dropping her to the floor.

“It was you who…”

Before she could finish her sentence, a searing pain lashed across her body. Stacy had a small whip in her hand and had struck her with it.

She couldn’t fight back. Milly tried to shield herself, but her limbs were held by invisible chains. She could only watch as a manic gleam appeared in Stacy’s eyes.

She raised the whip again, each strike sending a bone-chilling pain through her.

She tried to scream, but suddenly found she couldn’t even make a sound. She could only watch as Stacy dropped the whip and approached, her fingers tracing the thorn sigil on her collarbone, which began to burn again…

“No… don’t!”

Milly shot up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. She frantically checked her body. No whip marks. She looked around. She was still in Tifna’s house. A wave of relief washed over her as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“It was just a nightmare…”

She whispered to herself, but her heart was still pounding. The dream felt too real, a lingering horror.

After calming down, Milly got out of bed. The panties she had hung out to dry should be ready. Sleeping was one thing, but walking around commando felt strange. She should put them on.

She passed by Tifna’s room on her way downstairs. The door was open. The armor that had been thrown on the floor was now neatly arranged, the broken bottle cleaned up. But Tifna was gone.

Where did she go?

Downstairs, Tifna wasn’t in the living room either. She went outside and found her clothes on the line. The dress was still damp, but everything else was dry.

She went back inside, put on her panties and stockings, and then heard a noise from the back door.

She pushed it open. Tifna was in the spacious backyard, practicing with a wooden sword. Her movements were fluid and graceful, the sword tracing silver arcs in the morning air.

Milly sat quietly to the side, watching her. The morning light fell on her, and the sword cut through the air, stirring up motes of dust. Sweat trickled down her jawline, dripping onto the grass below.

Sensing Milly’s gaze, Tifna slowly stopped.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Fine…” But the memory of the nightmare sent a shiver down her spine.

After the greeting, Tifna resumed her practice. She seemed to have forgotten what happened last night. Or maybe she was pretending to forget. After all, getting drunk and hugging someone while calling them “brother” was incredibly embarrassing. If it had happened to her, she’d pretend to forget too.

As she watched Tifna, Milly’s gaze fell on a few other wooden swords lying nearby. The Sword Saint was gone, so her plan to learn from him was out. But learning from Tifna was a good alternative.

She picked up a wooden sword and swung it a few times. Her movements were clumsy and stiff. Without her muscle memory, she couldn’t even get the basics right.

“Want to try?”

Seeing Milly fumbling with the sword, Tifna stopped her practice. When she first found Milly, there were two dead monsters beside her.

The Thunderwolf had been killed by lightning. The Shadow Scorpion had also died from an electric shock, but it had blade marks on its shell as well. A quick spar would tell her if Milly was responsible.

“Yeah.”

Milly had wanted to ask Tifna to teach her anyway, so she wouldn’t miss this chance.

She swung the sword at Tifna, but with a flash of silver, her wooden sword was easily knocked out of her hand.

Tifna raised an eyebrow. Could someone else have been there? But this was just the first try. She decided to test her again.

“Relax, don’t use so much force,” Tifna instructed. “The sword is an extension of your arm. Feel its weight and balance.”

Milly picked up the sword and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She swung again, but the result was the same. Her sword was easily disarmed.

“Again.”

Tifna picked up the sword and handed it back to her. Milly gripped the hilt and held her breath.

Her own skill level couldn’t last a single round. She wanted to see how good she was with her muscle memory.

As she held her breath, Tifna’s movements seemed to slow down, the trajectory of her sword becoming clear.

As she exhaled, Milly saw an opening in Tifna’s stance. She struck quickly, her wooden sword accurately hitting Tifna’s. With a crack, Tifna’s sword flew out of her hand, arcing through the air before landing on the ground.

Tifna stared at the disarmed sword, replaying Milly’s move in her mind. Every detail was so clear. It wasn’t that she had memorized it after seeing it once; it was as if she had seen that move countless times before.

She picked up her sword, a serious look in her eyes.

“Again.”