Transmigrated to a Dark Fantasy World of SSS-Rank: King of the Void-Chapter 37: Repetition Is the Key

Now both of them were in the lush forest outside Luxar, which connected to the roads leading toward the Land of Nemoria. Mitsuki sat on the green grass, chewing on the meat skewer in his hand. Jeanne sat beside him, doing the same.

There wasn’t much he could say to the princess; he had been dragged to this place as if the current of a river had carried him straight toward hell—and soon he would realize he wasn’t wrong.

"The first thing a knight must do is eat meat. You see, we eat the muscles of other living beings to strengthen our own, but that alone isn’t enough. If you only eat and don’t work off the nutrients from the meat, your body will turn into a horrible ball of fat. That’s what training is for, because we wouldn’t want your pretty little face and body to be ruined, would we?"

Mitsuki nodded in silence. ’She’s right, in a way. If it weren’t for the fact that I barely ate or exercised before coming to this world, I probably would’ve done better. Actually, I might’ve even been able to run away from many dangers without getting tired.’

Jeanne ate the entire skewer in a single bite and stood up. Then she walked until she was about two meters in front of Mitsuki and looked at him with a different expression; a little more serious, though her gaze remained gentle.

"Alright, finish your food and let’s begin," she said, unsheathing her sword and stabbing it into the ground in front of him. "The only thing you have to do is lift the sword."

Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, noticeably confused. ’That’s it? Nothing else? I’ve lifted a Makari iron sword before and it was pretty light, although it was smaller. Could Jeanne’s sword be similar?’

It seemed easy enough, so he finished his meal and stood up, wiping his hands on his coat.

"Go ahead, Mitsuki. It’ll be easy."

He nodded and grabbed the sword’s hilt without hesitation: a double-edged silver blade with emerald-colored decorations along its length, a black hilt wrapped in soft yet sturdy leather, a silver guard with black details matching the leather of the grip, and a diamond-shaped silver pommel with rounded tips.

It was a lethal and beautiful weapon, just like its owner.

Mitsuki was confident to some degree. He didn’t see much difficulty in the task. But when he felt the sword in his hands, the expression on his face stiffened into a crooked grimace.

’Huh? What is this?’

The sword didn’t move even a single centimeter. It might as well have been a stone embedded in the ground, clinging to the planet’s core with every ridiculous magic imaginable.

This made no sense.

Jeanne seemed amused. Her arms were crossed, and she wore the smile of a mother watching her child take their first steps.

Even with the sword in his hands, Mitsuki didn’t dare turn around. He knew that if he did, the humiliation would only be worse. Couldn’t he lift a simple sword? Any normal person could do it, but apparently he couldn’t.

"Do you need help?"

Mitsuki shook his head. "I’m just warming up. Give me a second," he said with a trembling voice. He tried once more, this time with all his strength, but got the same result.

’What the hell?! What kind of Arthurian legend is this?! Is this thing made from the metal they used to forge Mjolnir?! It won’t move!’

Desperate, he used every ounce of strength to lift the weapon. He managed to move it for a thousandth of a second, but that was all. Defeated, he fell onto his back and stared at the sky. From above, Jeanne looked at him while trying not to laugh, which made him close his eyes.

’Please don’t laugh...’

"Are you alright?" she asked, taking a breath to keep herself from laughing. When she saw Mitsuki only turn his head away in embarrassment, she decided to be more understanding and serious. "You see, my sword isn’t like the ones you can find in an ordinary shop. It’s made from Thyridium, a very heavy and durable metal with properties that absorb and release magic. Normally this metal isn’t used for weapons, but for jewelry and small magical tools because of its weight."

She extended her hand to help Mitsuki stand up. Seeing that she wasn’t mocking or humiliating him, he accepted and got to his feet.

Jeanne continued.

"I personally asked for my sword to be made this way, so not just anyone can lift it."

’Then why did you ask me to lift it?’ he wondered, looking at the blade stuck in the ground.

As if she had read Mitsuki’s mind, she said, "I asked you to lift the sword to measure your strength and, well..."

There was no need to say it; he already knew. Being too weak in a world where everything seemed ridiculously powerful came with its own serious problems.

"But don’t worry. The key lies in repetition. Not the repetition of lifting the sword, but something different that I already prepared for you."

’Something different...’

Mitsuki paid close attention. Jeanne pulled out a black cloth bag and reached inside. Like a circus magician, she pulled out a perfectly hand-carved wooden sword. The details were carefully crafted, as if it were a copy of the sword stuck in the ground.

"That’s..."

"Something you’ll train with from now on. It’s heavy, but you’ll be able to carry it unlike my real sword. Here."

She tossed the sword, and when it landed it stuck into the ground in front of Mitsuki.

"Go on, Mitsuki. Lift your sword."

He nodded and placed his hands on the hilt. This time the sword moved, slowly coming out of the ground. Then he raised the weapon high like the elf from some old video game. For some reason, he felt powerful.

Jeanne clapped.

"Well done. Now that you’ve lifted the sword, you’ll repeat the following movement."

She grabbed her sword and raised it high, then delivered a descending slash that unleashed a massive wave of wind, pushing the trees that barely managed to stay rooted to the ground. Mitsuki, meanwhile, watched with eyes full of admiration. Knowing what he had to do, he imitated the movement and delivered a straight, descending slash.

It was only a strike through the air, but he felt strangely exhausted.

"How many times do I have to do it?"

Jeanne thought about it for a moment. "Well, for you... about five hundred repetitions."

’Five hundred?!’ His jaw almost dropped. He trembled nervously because he already felt tired after the first repetition.

However, the princess, with a playful smile, added, "Now you know: everything lies in repetition. Repetition."

Repetition...?

Mitsuki suddenly froze.

’She... she’s also talking about that kind of repetition, right?’

If that was the case, Mitsuki raised the sword high and delivered another strike with mysterious enthusiasm. Jeanne smiled with satisfaction, because she knew the boy had understood the implication.