It had been a full day since the four human adventurers arrived at the goblin village.
Just as Gobta had expected, Rimuru Tempest welcomed them warmly. Rimuru personally saw to it that they were fed, offering them freshly grilled meat. The seasoning was… questionable at best, but after three days of running for their lives, none of the humans complained. They devoured everything without hesitation.
Exhaustion quickly overtook them afterward, and the four collapsed into deep sleep.
---
Now—
Gobta stood alone in a quiet clearing near the edge of the village.
The patrol system had grown more organized recently. The goblin wolf-rider forces were divided into two main divisions—one led by Rigur, the other by Gobta himself. Rimuru had arranged it personally.
Originally, Rimuru had planned to appoint Rigur as captain and Gobta as vice-captain.
But after Gobta's surprisingly mature handling of the adventurer situation—and, as Rimuru put it, his "exceptional performance"—he was given command of his own division.
Under Gobta were sub-leaders like Gob'emon and Gobzo, each commanding their own squads.
With five hundred additional goblins joining from other villages, manpower was no longer an issue. The patrols now rotated shifts, allowing proper breaks.
Which was why—
Gobta was currently off duty.
He stood with his kodachi gripped in both hands, his stance was stiff, eyes narrowed intensely at the empty air in front of him.
The blade caught the sunlight, gleaming faintly.
He had received it only two days ago.
It was leagues beyond the crude weapons he used before.
And that was precisely the problem.
Earlier that morning, while hunting a wild boar, he had nearly cut Gobzo in half during a finishing strike. Gobzo had screamed for his life and rolled away just in time
Gobta grimaced at the memory.
He knew the weapon was dangerous if handled recklessly.
But he couldn't just stop using it.
It was a gift from Rimuru-sama.
And… he genuinely liked it.
So he had asked Rimuru for guidance.
Unfortunately, Rimuru had absolutely no sword experience whatsoever. Instead, he confidently delivered what sounded like wisdom pulled straight from manga and anime from his previous life.
"Shadow training," Rimuru had declared sagely. "Imagine a powerful enemy before you. Visualize the fight. Train your mind. That's how true swordsmen improve."
It had sounded cool.
Very cool.
Now—
Gobta squinted at the empty air.
"…Okay," he muttered. "Imagine enemy."
Silence.
A leaf drifted past.
He tried again.
His brain helpfully produced the image of Gobzo screaming instead.
"…Aughhhh!"
He stomped his foot in frustration.
"Why is this so hard?!"
"What are you doing, Gobta-san?"
The sudden voice from behind made Gobta jump nearly a foot in the air.
"Huh—?!"
He spun around, gripping his kodachi a little too tightly.
"Oh! Shizu-san—you're awake!" he exclaimed, his sour mood instantly lifting. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Shizue Izawa replied calmly. "The bed was very comfortable."
Though her expression was partially hidden again behind her mask, her posture was relaxed. The tension from yesterday's battle seemed gone.
Gobta let out a relieved breath. "Ah, I'm glad to hear that."
She tilted her head slightly. "What were you trying to do just now?"
"Oh—it's nothing!" Gobta scratched the back of his head, looking away. He felt far too embarrassed to admit he had been staring at empty air trying to fight an imaginary enemy.
Shizu watched him quietly for a moment.
"Don't worry," she said gently. "You can tell me."
Gobta hesitated. Then something clicked.
Right.
She used a sword too.
How had he forgotten that part?
"Actually…" he began awkwardly, shuffling his feet. "Miss Shizu… since you use a sword… could you maybe help me learn how to use one properly?"
He braced himself in case she refused.
"Of course," she answered without hesitation.
Gobta blinked. "You will?"
"Yes. Why not?" Her tone was simple. "You risked your life for me yesterday. And… after I retired from adventuring, I taught quite a few people in my life."
There was a faint melancholy beneath her calm voice.
Gobta squinted at her curiously. "You talk like an old person. How old are you, Miss Shizu?"
A brief pause.
"It's not polite to ask a lady about her age."
Gobta immediately stiffened.
Ah.
He had stepped on something dangerous.
"S-Sorry! My bad!" he waved his hands frantically.
Shizu let it pass.
"Anyway," she continued smoothly, "we'll start with wooden swords. Show me what you can do, and then I'll decide how to proceed."
Gobta looked puzzled. "Wooden swords?"
Without answering directly, Shizu turned toward a nearby tree. In one fluid motion, she drew her blade and cleanly severed a thick branch. The cut was precise—controlled strength without wasted movement.
She knelt and quickly shaped the branch, trimming and smoothing it with efficient strikes until two sturdy wooden practice swords remained.
She tossed one lightly toward Gobta.
He barely caught it.
Gobta caught it, weighing it in his hands.
"Come at me," she said calmly.
"Huh!"
"Show me how you normally attack," Shizu said, stepping back and raising her own wooden blade into a relaxed guard.
Gobta swallowed.
"Okay… don't laugh."
"I won't."
He took a stance.
It was wide. Unbalanced. Shoulders tense. Elbows stiff.
With a shout, he charged forward and swung with full force.
Shizu didn't move until the very last moment.
Then—
Tap.
Her wooden blade redirected his strike effortlessly.
Gobta stumbled forward from the overcommitment.
Before he could recover—
Bam.
A hard strike landed against his side.
Ow that hurts gobta shouted
"You use full strength," she continued, circling him slowly. " you have no control over your center of gravity. You rely on instinct alone."
She stopped in front of him.
Gobta had weird feeling that the kind lady Infront of him just Turned into a demonnes.
"First," she said, adjusting his grip with careful hands, "relax your shoulders."
She nudged his stance narrower.
"Try to do it slowly"
Gobta tried again.
Slower this time.
The wooden blade sliced forward.
Shizu parried once more—but this time he stumbled again.
Bam
Gobta rubbed his side, wincing. "Ow! That hurts!"
"You use full strength every time," she said evenly, circling him with slow, measured steps. "You have no control over your center of gravity. You rely entirely on instinct."
She stopped in front of him.
For a brief, terrifying moment, Gobta felt like the kind lady from earlier had transformed into a crazy demon.
"First," she said, stepping closer, "relax your shoulders."
She reached out and lightly pressed them downward. "Tension travels into your blade. A stiff body creates a stiff strike."
She adjusted his elbows. "Not locked. Slightly bent."
Then she nudged his feet into a narrower stance. "Your legs are too wide. You're sacrificing balance for power. With a kodachi, balance matters more."
She stepped back.
"Try again. Slowly."
Gobta inhaled.
This time, he didn't shout.
He moved forward carefully, guiding the wooden blade in a controlled diagonal cut instead of a wild swing.
Shizu parried again.
Tap.
The contact was clean.
But Gobta still stumbled forward, his weight spilling past his front foot.
Bam.
The wooden blade struck his thigh.
"Ouch!"
"You're still leaning," Shizu said calmly. "Your head moves before your hips. Keep your weight centered."
She demonstrated.
In one smooth motion, she stepped forward, blade cutting through the air with minimal effort. Her body moved as one unit—hips, shoulders, arms aligned. The strike stopped precisely where she intended.
No wobble.
No overreach.
"With a kodachi," she explained, "you don't overpower your opponent. It's shorter than a standard katana. That means you must control distance carefully."
She gestured for him to observe her footwork.
"Small steps. Slide, don't jump. Your rear foot follows your front. Never cross them."
She raised her wooden blade.
"Again."
Gobta charged—
"Stop."
He froze mid-step.
"You're rushing."
She walked toward him and tapped his forehead lightly with the wooden blade.
"Look at your opponent's shoulders, not their weapon. The shoulders tell you where the attack begins."
Gobta blinked.
"…I didn't even think about that."
"I know."
She reset her stance.
"This time, don't try to hit me. Just step in and stop your blade one inch before contact."
Gobta hesitated.
That sounded harder than attacking.
He stepped forward.
Slid his front foot.
Brought the blade forward—
And forced himself to stop.
The wooden sword hovered just before Shizu's guard.
His arms trembled from resisting the urge to complete the swing.
Shizu's eyes softened slightly behind the mask.
"Good."
Gobta blinked.
"…Really?"
"You stopped yourself. That's good."
She tapped his blade aside gently.
"A sharp weapon like yours does not forgive mistakes. Precision is difficult."
She shifted into a slightly closer stance.
"With a kodachi, you are most dangerous inside your opponent's guard. It's designed for quick draws, close cuts, and fast recovery."
She demonstrated a short, sharp horizontal cut.
No wide arc.
Just a tight, efficient motion.
"If you swing wide, you create openings."
She pointed at his side—the exact spot she had struck earlier.
"You left this completely exposed."
Gobta gulped.
"…So I shouldn't swing big?"
"Only when you are certain."
She stepped forward suddenly and thrust lightly toward his chest.
Gobta barely reacted in time, scrambling backward.
She didn't
pursue.
"You also need to guard between strikes," she continued strictly. "After every attack, return to a defensive position. Do not admire your own swing."
Gobta flushed.
He definitely admired his swings.
"Again."
They repeated the drill.
Step.
Slide.
Controlled cut.
Stop.
Parry.
Recover.
Each mistake was met with a quick, sharp tap from Shizu's wooden blade.