In Drill Clinic, Lirzod was lying unconscious on the bed in new clothes—the combination of an old sleeveless cream-colored shirt and a brown plus-fours. Having just struggled to dress him up, Hundred sat back in his seat with a look of discomfort. "Couldn't you have done that?" he looked at Mulyk, a hint of indignation flowing through his speech.
"I'm not married yet," she was resting on the opposite bed, and she woke up from sleep only a couple of minutes ago, so her voice was dull but not vacuous.
"What?" Hundred pried further. "What does that have to do with dressing him up?"
"We elves have a tradition that unmarried girls shouldn't dress up males above the age of seven. It's the same for unmarried boys, too."
"Are you kidding? That's one of the dumbest rules I've ever heard."
Mulyk narrowed the windows of her view, her voice becoming a bit biting, "If I were you, I'd mind my tongue-fu."
Hundred shut his mouth, with some amount of agitation arising in his eyes. (The air around her suddenly changed. Damn, these elves are too damn dicey to prattle with. The old folks from my village used to say that their mood changes like the wind. Why do I have to sit with one of them? Thanks to this situation, the hairs on my hands aren't going down at all!) And what's more, the hemorrhaging stench of the clinic turned his stomach so much so that he felt like he was losing blood down his bottom.
"You vulnurs might not follow your ancestors' traditions, but we're grateful to our ancestors and for everything they did," she was laid back in posture, but her tone was rather truculent. "Without them, we wouldn't even be breathing now, and our survival makes sure that our descendants get to do the same."
"Survival, huh… yes, at the end of the day, it all boils down to that," Hundred sighed, and got drawn back into the conversation involuntarily. "People pull each other's leg for even simple things, making survival a mountain to climb and every day a hard pill to swallow."
Mulyk yawned and got up from the bed. "Sleeping in the middle of the day never feels good. My head feels all dizzy." She stretched her body a bit, and slowly but surely, her movements got more flexible, and eventually, she started to spin smoothly on the top of her toes while moving around the beds.
"W-Wow," Hundred's mouth opened without himself knowing. "She isn't slim, but she can move so well." As she started humming, he could hear his own heartbeat. "S-She's looking attractive now for some reason. No, what am I thinking!" He averted his eyes, but then they shifted back again and got a load of her dance. "I… I never thought I'd live to see this."
"Make that two of us," a chuffed voice came from the side, and when Hundred looked to his left, Lirzod was awake and seated on his butt.
"Eek!" Hundred almost fell from the chair, and even Mulyk crashed into the wall.
"W-When did you wake up?" Both of them barked at Lirzod in unison.
Lirzod looked at them with a blank expression before lifting his head to look at the ceiling.
"Say something!" Mulyk yelled.
"Why is there a ceiling above me?" Lirzod murmured, "I thought I was under a clear sky… with the birds singing and Duera dancing, but then some loud footsteps of a beast scurrying through the woods woke me up." He turned his head slowly toward Mulyk, making her blink twice, but then he looked at Hundred while pointing his finger at her. "Who's that one in an elf costume? Are we in the backstage of some drama theatre?"
Hundred was tongue-tied upon just noticing the four-missing front teeth in Lirzod's mouth. Before he could recover from the revelation and respond, Mulyk barged in. "Who's wearing a costume, eh? I'm an elf, a real elf in the flesh!"
Lirzod got out of the bed and stood before her. "Stop joking. Why would an elf be—" she pulled her ears from both ends twice. "Mm? Why are these not coming? You really fixed these well. I can't even tell their base."
Mulyk's blood boiled at this point, "How dare you run your fingers over my ears!" she covered her shyness with a good deal of banter, and then whipped her leg at his crotch and landed a solid hit.
"You…" Lirzod collapsed into a pile of miserable mess and writhed in pain.
Hundred, on the other hand, had a petrified look.
"You vulnuric bastards take too many things for granted and have the cheapest characters of all," Mulyk coldly said. Her gaze and voice may have been cold, but her body gave off heat. "Touch me again, and I will cut your hands off next time and make manure out of them." She turned away. "Get out of my clinic as soon as you're healed."
Soon as the word clinic was mentioned, Lirzod somewhat grasped what had happened, but he seemed to be in too much pain to even take his hands off his crotch. With a reddened face, he continued to suffer on the floor between two beds, and eventually ended up rolling under one of the beds.
As Hundred watched, Lirzod poked his head from out from underneath and giggled a little, startling him, and later put his finger on his mouth as if telling Hundred to remain silent, and then went under the bed again.
(This guy…) Hundred couldn't believe what he was seeing. (He's playing with fire!)
Lirzod came out from the other side of the bed, wearing a not-so-convincing painful expression. "How could you hurt someone there?" one of his hands was still clutching his crotch while the other hand covered his mouth. "Why am I even asking? A woman surely knows nothing of this pain." He fell forward onto the bed and stayed there, crying and sniffling.
Mulyk glanced over her shoulders once to see his condition. (I did kick without holding back, but it just happened in the spur of the moment. Now, I can only hope I didn't inflict any permanent damage, or I would be the one responsible for cutting his lineage off.) The thought alone made her feel uneasy. She turned around and began to walk over to him, but when she looked at his face, her expression subtly changed, though she quickly covered it up. "Hey, I didn't mean to hurt you that bad. It was just… I was raised with the saying, 'A word to the wise; a slap to the silly.' That's why my body automatically reacted."
"But that wasn't a slap," Lirzod continued crying, his face still hidden from view.
She pursed her lips. "I-I know I can't take back what happened no matter what I say, but I'm sor—"
Lirzod suddenly jumped and landed knee-first on the bed, "Haha, you bought it, didn't you?"
Mulyk seemed surprised and puzzled at the same time. "Bought what?"
"That I was hurt," Lirzod placed his hands on his waist and proudly laughed. "I knew I had the performing talent in me." He walked on his knees to the end of the bed, then stared at her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Don't be shocked. You did well, too, but it's time you remove those fake ears of yours and show your true self, Ms. Phoney Elf."
Hundred, who was watching it, had his jaw hit the floor. (True self? What the heck is he thinking? If she takes her gun out, we both are done for!)
A shade of darkness surfaced around Mulyk's eyes as Lirzod's grip bound her for some reason, even though his hands were simply on her shoulders. "Your performance is as terrible as it can get!" she punched in his abdomen, causing him to spill some saliva. "To think you thought you could fool me with your woeful skills…" She cracked her knuckles. "It looks like I've been severely underestimated-fu."
"Eh?" Lirzod looked bewildered, his knees involuntarily moving backward and away from her. "Y-You saw through my theatrics?"
"You call those theatrics?" she snorted. "Even my pet dog would have put up a better show!" She glanced at Hundred. "Even he would've noticed it."
Hundred's shoulders jerked when Lirzod looked at him. "U-Uh, o-of course. It was plain as day."
Lirzod's butt fell onto his ankles, his confidence having just taken a mountain-sized dent.
Hundred gave an icy look toward Mulyk. What the heck did she mean by 'even I would've noticed it'?
Mulyk silently breathed a sigh of relief. (Whew, almost got fooled by this silly guy!)
At that moment, a couple of knocking sounds came from the entrance, and when Lirzod turned his face to look in that direction, there was a familiar figure. "You are… the one who sits on a turtle, the turtle-haired woman! What was your name again?" he poked his finger against his temple, trying to think hard. "I'm sure it starts with 't.'"
"Everna, that's my name," after sweeping the entire room with a glance, she calmly walked in.
"Oh, yeah, right, right," Lirzod nodded, and though Mulyk wished to teach him a lesson, she had to wait. "The one you ride, is it a turtle or a tortoise?"
Everna looked at Mulyk and Hundred. "Would you leave us for a few minutes?" Her voice sounded more like a demand.
Mulyk glanced at Lirzod with a frigid look, "I will be right outside, so don't think you can run away without settling the score."
"What score?" Lirzod raised his brows, irking her even more. "Wait, why does my voice sound a bit different?"
"Probably because you have fewer teeth now," Everna said, sitting on the same bed he was on, but her feet were still touching the floor. "You already looked like a kid in the fifth standard with that baby face of yours, but now that you've lost some teeth, more people might mistake you for a little fellow now."
Lirzod's eyes widened a bit. "Now that you've said…" he remembered the moment when he lost his teeth. "That bastard, he pulled some nasty trick."
"Trick or not, you got hurt in the end," she bluntly remarked. "If you bother them again, you may lose more than just teeth."
Lirzod laughed lightly. "Lirzod doesn't like to… I mean, I don't like losing, too, you know, but… you can't finish first in everything in life."
"The heck that's supposed to mean?"
"Well, sometimes coming second is worth it." He thought of Leggy. (I hope it's still alive.)
"Coming second?" she raised one of her brows. "Thanks to Exvo, you're still alive. If it's in the outside world, a loss in a fight is often followed by death."
"Don't worry. I'm not weak enough to croak in a fight," Lirzod replied, smiling cheekily. He then ran his little finger through his nose, "In case, if death draws near, I'll shit on it with a smile."
Everna's expression contorted. "That's as good as an ignorant statement can be made. You not only look but sound like a child now."
The room's door now fully closed, leaving only the two inside.
After a few seconds of silence, Lirzod continued, "So what made you come looking for me? My guess is you came here for a kiss."
"Don't overthink." She plucked one of his hairs, causing him to utter an ouch. "I didn't come here for you or for the commander either, but mainly because of this," she took out a letter from under her sleeves.
"Oh, is that the one I sent you?" Lirzod almost jumped on his butt. "Did I succeed in changing your mind?"
"I've only read a few love letters, but if this one's of such air, too, then I'm certain this is the silliest of them all." She lightly blew air through her nose, with eyes filled with a bit of displeasure and damn shame, "I don't even want to know how many seconds you've spent to write it."
"Hehe," Lirzod rubbed his nose, "that's why you treasured it?"
She tossed it on the bed. "You can keep that 'treasure' to yourself."
Lirzod took the letter and opened it to take a look at what was inside. And all he found was a few words:
I'm sure you'll look a lot more stunning with some hair on your head.
Yours hairy,
Lirzod.
"What's wrong with it?" Lirzod glanced at her and spoke in an urging tone, "I mean I forgot to add Surya's poem, but this is also okay, isn't it?"
"Maybe for you it's okay, but not for me."
"Why? Will growing hair on the head discomfort you?"
"That's not the issue."
"Then what is?"
"Do I really have to tell you that?"
"I wouldn't know unless you tell me."
"Well, ugliness is in the eye of the beholder," Everna waved her hand like a feather fan to blow some sweat off her face. "Maybe my current look isn't pleasing to you. Maybe many others feel the same way, but I'm certain there will be a few who think this a pretty good-looking style to go for."
"What, no," Lirzod vehemently shook his head, "only partial-baldies would go for that style." He then paused and peered at her for a moment. "Don't tell me... you had partial baldness, too?"
"No," she calmly replied.
"Oh, so you were about to get it in the future, and that's why you've shaved your head, right?"
"No," she didn't make any specific expression as she responded, other than briefly closing her eyes.
"Then you were afraid that you might get it in the future and—" As he was saying, he received an icy stare from her. "I-I guess not."
A few seconds of silence passed.
"Do you have a comb?" Lirzod asked.
"No."
Lirzod squeezed his lips, "This makes it even harder for me to guess."
"Guess what?" she couldn't help herself but ask.
"Nothing. My friend, Duera, had this theory that baldies are likelier to carry combs in their pockets. Her father had that habit, too. I'm talking about partial baldness here, of course." He cast a glance at Everna's crown. "Your case, though, is quite hard to guess."
"I haven't touched a comb in years."
"Me, too. I prefer running fingers through my hair."
"That's not the point," Everna's jawline became more evident. "If you bring up another such theory, I'll buy one comb and brush your head until not a single hair is left."
"N-No more theories then," Lirzod quickly covered his head with both hands.
Silence ruled the space between them for a moment.
"What made you choose to become a monk?" he asked as he looked at her attire.
Everna stayed silent for a second before getting down from the bed. "It's time I do the remaining work. Would you remove your shirt?"
"Shirt?" Lirzod blinked twice. "Don't tell me you want to shave my chest hair?"
"Why would I even do that?" Everna's brows slightly furrowed. "I came here to heal you, but, ahem, I doubt you are old enough to have chest hair."
"That's right, I don't yet have chest hair," Lirzod nodded to himself, "but wait, you said you came here to heal me?"
"Just take that shirt off," Everna stressed her words a bit.
"O-Okay," Lirzod held the ends of his shirt and glanced at her. "Just promise you won't tickle my nipples."
Everna's mouth turned down, "Why would I even do that?"
"Got it. Just making sure, that's all," Lirzod said and lay straight on the bed. "Now, you can act."
Everna briefly stared at his face. (I'm confident in my ability to read faces, but I can't read this boy well. It is different from a monk's face. I wonder what is running in that brain of his right now.)
"I knew it! You are thinking of tickling me, aren't you?" Lirzod immediately rose and sat on his butt.
"No, I wasn't," she slapped his chest, pushing him back onto the bed.
"Ow, that hurts," Lirzod made a frowning face.
"Just stay down until I tell you otherwise."
Meanwhile, inside the Drill Hall.
"Oi, you've gotta be kidding me," the blonde youth had disbelief written all over his face. "She took down more than thirty seniors."
At the moment, Sariyu was standing atop a man who just had his shin broken.
"Please spare me. Don't hurt me anymore," he begged her.
"But unlike other mouths, your mouth has not only hurt my ears but also my heart," Sariyu's voice was devoid of warmth. "You brought this upon yourself, you know."
"I promise I will keep my mouth in check from here on," he cried in agony.
"That's not enough," Sariyu pressed his leg, making him scream a bit more. The crowd could only watch in frustration because they were told to not interfere by their master.
"I'll go back to my mommy and learn everything from her anew," he said aloud in despair.
"That's more like it," Sariyu got down from him and looked at Sean. "I think I've played enough, don't you think?"
"You say that when you didn't even break a sweat after beating over more than four dozens of my pupils," Sean said with a face filled with both happiness and sadness for different reasons.
"Regardless, I think I've done enough," Sariyu grumbled a bit. "I'll be taking my leave."
"Copping out so early?" some pupils taunted her. "There are still plenty of us left."
Sariyu, however, didn't respond or even seem to care. After all, those who had fought her now stayed put and showed no will to fight her once more.
(For a young lass, she has already developed a bit of thick skin. If she uses her loaf better, she'd make a good convener or a politician.) Sean wondered and then tossed a water bottle at her, "Just tell us where you learned to fight, daughter of a woman."
Sariyu grabbed the bottle and glanced back at him, "I guess I owe an answer for this bottle at least."
"You are the winner." Sean implored, "You get to answer in whichever way you see fit. My pupils need every piece of advice they can get."
"I don't think I'm good enough to advise your pupils, but since you're asking for it..." Sariyu began to walk away, "For the most part, as far as my memory goes, I just watched and worked on for years—my parents' ways."
After she left, Sean looked at his pupils, especially the defeated ones, "Did you hear her? Were any of you paying attention? If you did, I hope at least one of you ascertained that she didn't care only about competence but also character. That's the kind of mentality someone who's aspiring to become a martial needs to cultivate. It puts you apart from the rest, and without that drive in your heart, you can forget about ever reaching the pinnacle of the martial world. Skills may help you lead life in many new ways, but when it matters the most, there is no skill in this world that will help you overcome the suffering that ordeals of life throw at you. Heck, if you only chase after skills, someone with a better skill will one day end up biting your ass. If you don't want to bleed to death down your bottom, then you better start fostering some moral fiber in your miserable muscles." He took a breath to get his voice back. "Right now, if you ask me, you chumps are lacking in every respect!"
All the pupils stood with their chins touching their chests.
"What are you still here for?" Sean barked. "Don't dawdle around, and get back to your routines!"
"Y-Yes, Master!" they all stormed back to their places.
"Chet, she took the easy way out," Sean didn't look so pleased as he muttered under his breath. The most honorable action that Sariyu could do was defeat everyone that challenged her, but she didn't take that route. Then again, was there such a route as a proper way? "Still, I didn't expect her to wipe the floor with my pupils. A wild goose never laid a tame egg, huh. I wonder what her parents are like." He took a deep breath. "End of the day, I feel like I made a spectacle of myself." He let out a helpless smile.
Daily Dose:
Motivation Speaker: Can anyone tell the difference between a sheep and a goat?
Bottom Ranker: Goat is smaller than a sheep.
Motivational Speaker: How did you come to that conclusion?
Bottom Ranker: Goat is a four-letter word, but sheep is a five-letter word.
The entire class broke into laughter, and the motivational speaker shook his head.
Bottom Ranker: Also, sheep tend to laugh together, but goats know better.
The entire class started to scold him, telling him that they are goats, and he is sheep.
Bottom Ranker: Last but not least, goats lie and cheat, but sheep can't.
The entire class fell silent.
Bottom Ranker: Now I'm confused. Who's who?
The motivational speaker lifted his wig and rubbed the sweat off his bald head with his tiny kerchief, "Never mind."
Hope you've fancied the chapter. Have a great day or night wherever you are.
Don't forget to comment. Throw some stones, too.
CL: 3400+ words.
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