Unwillingly Summoned: Chapter 15 – Blades and Magic

“That went well,” observed Sig after a few awkward moments of silence.

James shot him a withering look that had zero impact on the other man. Chrosan stared in the direction that Seiran had stormed off before he turned a confused look on James.

“What did you say to her?” asked the young man.

James lifted his hands and said, “I didn’t say anything.”

“Then, why did she leave like that?”

 “I’ll explain it to you when you’re older,” said Sig with a sigh and a sidelong glance at James. “Both of you, apparently.”

“I’m not stupid,” said Chrosan.

Sig eyed the young man.

“No, but you are inexperienced. Time will probably cure you of that, thank the gods.”

That response didn’t seem to sit very well with Chrosan, who gave Sig a dirty look. James was sympathetic to that indignation. He just wasn’t sure he could deny the accusation in good conscience. He was inexperienced, especially in this new, even if he thought he had an inkling of what was going on with Seiran. But an inkling was a far cry from having certainty. Chrosan didn’t share his hesitation on those grounds.

“You’re not that much older than me, Sig.”

“It’s not just the years. It’s what you did with them.”

“And what did you do that I didn’t?” asked Chrosan.

“Lived,” answered Sig with a shrug and then kept speaking. “Now then. Plenty of daylight left. Might as well do some more training.”

Chrosan brightened up and reached for his sword, but Sig waved him off.

“What? Why not?” demanded the young man.

“Because he can learn what he needs to learn from you in half an hour,” said Sig.

“If it’ll be that fast, why not start with it?” asked a Chrosan.

Sig didn’t seem to have a ready answer for that, so he just lifted his chin in James’s direction. James wasn’t surprised that it took longer than half an hour, but he was surprised that it took less than two hours. The young man was powerful, but not particularly well suited to fight against someone with James’s speed. His sword was so big that he only really had a handful of options. There were big, sweeping slashes, overhead slashes, and thrusts. James thought it could probably serve as a makeshift shield if Chrosan managed to anchor it well enough in the ground. That was about it. Once James worked out the other man’s timing, dodging became very easy.

None of which was to say that the young man wasn’t dangerous. If he ever managed to connect with one of those swings, that would be the definitive end of the fight and probably the other person’s life. The size of the blade also made it fairly easy to keep opponents at a distance. While not an ideal style for fighting other human beings, James imagined that it would very effective against large monsters and possible against groups of enemies with poor survival instincts. With his strength, it was entirely possible that Chrosan could simply cut through a group of monsters if they weren’t too durable.

When it came time for him to go on the offensive, James managed to get inside the effective range of the huge sword and close with Chrosan repeatedly. He’d been elated the first time, but it turned out to be a pretty mixed bag. Either Chrosan himself or someone who trained him saw the obvious problem and took steps to remedy it. The young man was a fierce hand-to-hand fighter when he wasn’t drunk. James still had a speed advantage, and their strength was about the same. All things being equal, that meant James should win in a long enough fight through sheer attrition if nothing else. If he was landing three hits for every two that Chrosan landed, the damage would accumulate.

All things were not equal. James was relying on some martial arts training he’d gotten back on Earth and whatever his skills were feeding him. Useful for sure, but dojo time and practicing alone weren’t the same as actually fighting with other people. Chrosan was relying on skills, training, and experience in literal life-or-death battles. It showed. He knocked aside James’s short swords and retaliated with vicious kicks aimed squarely for James’s crotch or knees. He slammed elbows into the side of James’s head. Once, when James managed to grab Chrosan’s shoulder, the young man tried to bite his arm. He’d snatched his hand away before the teeth could snap closed, but it also meant taking a nasty blow to his solar plexus that left him wheezing on the ground.

It became swiftly clear that Chrosan was a graduate of a specific school of fighting. The School of Victory However You Can Get It. James wanted to complain, but he had to concede that was unquestionably the right school to embrace if you intended to battle horrors. James also learned a lot about how to attack without abandoning defense, but it came at the cost of a not insignificant amount of pain. Pain that Sig was perfectly willing to let persist unless James was actively bleeding or the mage thought that there might be some kind of internal damage. Only then would he deign to bestow some minor healing magic on the swiftly accumulating injuries. James’s takeaway was that, while it hadn’t been fun, defeating Chrosan was an achievable goal. He already had the right tools. He just needed to learn how to use them more effectively. That was a matter of time and practice.

“That’s enough, Chrosan,” said Sig.

The young man seemed disappointed but raised no objections.

“Why don’t you let James try a few swings with your sword?” suggested Sig.

Chrosan seemed a little startled by the words, but dutifully walked over and extended the blade hilt first. James grabbed the hilt with both hands, having lifted a similar sword back in the armory. It wasn’t quite as heavy as he remembered that other sword being, but it was heavy enough. He looked around and moved to spot well away from anything with a heartbeat. Only when he was absolutely sure that he couldn’t accidently hurt someone else did James try to swing that sword. It felt wrong and awkward in his hands for the first several swings. It was only raw strength and agility that kept him from being dragged off balance and onto the ground.

After that, though, something seemed to click in his head. He adjusted his stance so it was a little wider and shifted his grip on the hilt. The swings came more naturally after that, but he knew that he’d never prefer a sword like that. It would be a weapon of last resort that he’d pick up if there was simply nothing else to use. He gave the weapon a few more swings and thrusts before he took back over to Chrosan.

“Pretty nice, right?” asked Chrosan with bright-eyed enthusiasm.

“Um, yeah. I think you’re probably the right choice to carry this, though. You’ve got better reach than me,” said James.

It was an excuse he made up on the spot for why he wasn’t going to run out and get one of those ridiculous swords for himself, and he felt no guilt over it. It was even true, technically, if not the whole truth. Chrosan didn’t seem to notice, but it was clear that Sig had. The young man hefted the blade and, with a cheery wave, he went and found a seat. The mage eyed James.

“What?” asked James.

“That was a nice thing you did.”

“I guess. I mean, he clearly loves that sword. I didn’t see any upside to talking shit about it.”

“Upside?” asked the mage.

“Benefit,” said James.

“Oh. What an odd way to say it.”

James thought it over and decided it would be kind of a strange word if it didn’t have all the connotations attached to it. It only seemed obvious to him because he’d used it and heard it so many times. He didn’t have a chance to delve any deeper into linguistics because Sig handed him a small scroll.

“What’s this?” asked James as he took the scroll.

“Nothing special. Just read it.”

Shrugging, James opened the scroll and tried to read it. There was a moment of displacement when his vision went double, followed by uncomfortable warmth that passed through him. As quickly as it happened, it went away and everything snapped back into focus. James yelped as the scrolled flared and turned to ash in his hands. He frantically shook his hand for a moment before he realized that he hadn’t felt any actual pain from the scroll’s abrupt ignition. He gave Sig a flat look.

“What was that about?”

“I just needed to know if you could magic or not. That disorientation you just felt was your mana activating. You can use magic. Congratulations,” said Sig in possibly the least enthusiastic voice James had ever heard.

“Why do I feel like this isn’t a cause for celebration?”

“Because everyone gets stupid about magic. They either want it to do things it can’t do, or they want to use it to do things they shouldn’t do.”

“Like what?”

“Achieve immortality. Make someone love them. Conquer the world. The usual.”

James just stared at the other man as he considered what Sig thought of as the usual. Sighing, he asked the obvious question.

“So, magic can’t do those things?”

“Just the love thing. It can potentially do those other things, but that would be bad for you.”

James almost followed that rabbit trail, and then decided that he’d reached his crazy quota for the day and focused on something more immediately relevant.

“So, what was that scroll?” he asked.

“It’s a basic water spell. You can use it to fill up a waterskin or a bucket.”

“Sounds kind of useless. Wouldn’t something like a fireball spell be more helpful when fighting monsters?”

“You ever tried living without water?” asked Sig. “The higher your stats get, the longer you can go without things like food and sleep. You can even get tough enough to survive naked in some pretty harsh places. You know what you absolutely cannot do without?”

“Water?” asked James.

“Water,” said Sig. “I hear that even B ranks and A ranks still drink it. That’s why it’s the first spell everyone who can use magic learns. Especially since there aren’t any water sources in some dungeons. You might get killed. You might eventually starve, but you’ll never die of dehydration if there’s someone in your party with magic.”

“I can see the logic behind that,” admitted James.

“Good. I’d have had to call Chrosan back over to hit you in the head some more if you hadn’t. Now,” said Sig as he handed James another scroll, “read this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s that fireball spell you were asking about. Why use magic if you can’t set monsters on fire with it?”