The guild hall was still buzzing with the chatter of adventurers when she stepped out into the evening air, a small pouch of coins clinking faintly at her side. The copper reward for the goblin ears felt light—too light for the effort she had poured into the hunt. Darkness lowered her gaze, her boots scuffing the stone road as she walked away from the glowing windows of the guild.
She should have been proud. She had advanced a level, earned her reward, survived another mission. But her heart wasn't steady. It beat too quickly, every pulse reminding her of a promise she had made out of impulse, one she couldn't seem to stop thinking about.
That old man…
The memory rose unbidden, his round belly, the way his voice had carried through the market square: "Wrestling training! First lesson ninety percent off!" At first she had thought it ridiculous, some shameless trick to catch bored mercenaries with too much coin. But when she stopped, when she admitted to him she had no money, the way he looked her over had left her skin hot. And then his offer—free trial, no payment, just a test.
Her fists clenched around the pouch. She should forget it. She should go home, eat, rest, prepare for her next mission.
But her legs wouldn't move that way.
Instead, she found herself slowing down, lips pressing into a thin line as her thoughts spun circles.
"He said… just one test lesson," she muttered under her breath, cheeks burning at the sound of her own voice. "It's… training. It's not like it's… bad…"
Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the faintest rub of fabric teasing her with warmth she tried to deny.
She knew what "wrestling" meant in the field. Goblins lunging, pinning, trying to overpower her body. She had resisted, fought, won, but at cost—always at cost. Even the system had recognized it, offering her that embarrassing but practical skill, Sensual Resistance.
So wasn't it logical… to train?
Darkness hugged herself tightly, as if squeezing her arms around her chest could cage the thoughts swarming her. "I-it's just training," she whispered again, the contradiction in her tone making her shiver.
The image of the old man's eager face came to her mind. Not threatening—just… desperate. Agitated like someone who hadn't had a student in years. His offer had been clumsy, his tone unpolished. But there had been a strange honesty there, too, the way he lit up at the thought of teaching someone.
Her steps slowed to a halt at the corner of the road. The guild was far behind her now, and the path ahead branched: left, toward her rented room… or right, toward where she knew the man would be waiting.
Her stomach flipped. Her palms were damp.
And yet her body shifted—feet inching toward the right.
The road grew quieter as she walked, the lively hum of the guild replaced by the creak of shutters and the distant barking of dogs. Most villagers were already indoors, their fires burning, their suppers eaten. The faint lanternlight on the corners made the shadows stretch long and deep, each one swallowing the sound of her hesitant steps.
Darkness hugged her pouch tighter, though it wasn't the money that weighed on her mind. It was the promise.
Her lips trembled as she murmured to herself, "He'll… probably laugh if I don't show up. Maybe he already forgot… maybe I should just turn back now."
But her feet wouldn't turn. They pressed forward as if pulled by a string, carrying her deeper into the quieter streets.
She thought of his words—free trial—and tried to steady herself with reason. "I-it's training. It's… just training. If I can fight better in wrestling, then I won't… I won't lose when it matters."
The memory of the goblin's weight pinning her down flashed through her mind, the shameful squirm of her own body as she had tried to resist. Her face burned, thighs rubbing together unconsciously at the thought of how close she had come to losing then. If not for her stubbornness, if not for the system's strange mercy, she might have…
Her breath quickened. She shook her head violently, golden hair swishing as if the motion could chase away the images. "N-no! That's why this is good. That's why… it makes sense."
But as much as she tried to ground herself with logic, her heart betrayed her. Each beat seemed to echo louder in her chest the nearer she came to the square.
When the crooked silhouette of the old stall came into view, she slowed. The crude sign still hung lopsided, "Wrestling Training" painted in thick, uneven letters. But the man wasn't barking anymore. He was waiting—slouched on a stool, his round shape huddled in the lantern's glow, as if he hadn't moved since she left him.
His head perked up the moment he saw her. His face split into a wide grin, and he scrambled to his feet far too quickly for his age and size, waving an arm at her.
"Ah! You came back! I knew you would!"
The way his voice cracked with excitement made her freeze. She pressed her hand to her chest, suddenly aware of how tight her heartbeat felt there.
For a moment, she considered running. But then she remembered her own words, her own nod when she had promised him she'd return. Her pride was too sharp to break her word.
So she stepped forward, trying to mask her hesitation with a stiff posture.
The old man's eyes gleamed with something between relief and triumph, and he grabbed a lantern from his stall. "No time to waste, girl! Come, come—we'll start right away!"
Before she could protest, he waddled eagerly ahead, leading her down a narrow lane that smelled faintly of damp wood and old straw.
Her pulse raced faster with every step. The houses here were older, smaller, their shutters cracked and roofs sagging. She hesitated when he stopped before one particularly shabby hut, its door half-hanging off its hinges.
"This… this is where you train people?" she asked nervously, her voice tight.
He turned to her with a strange sort of pride, as if the peeling wood and faint smell of mildew were nothing to be ashamed of. "Of course! Inside, inside—no one to bother us here. Perfect for focus."
Darkness swallowed hard, glancing at the shadows pooling around the hut. For a fleeting second, doubt curled in her stomach. Was she walking into a mistake?
But then his words came again, firm yet oddly reassuring: "It's just the trial. You'll see for yourself. You don't have to pay a single coin. Just test, and then decide."
Her shoulders slumped in reluctant acceptance. Her pride whispered that backing down now would make her look cowardly. And deep down, something warmer, stranger, urged her on.
So she nodded once, following him to the door.
He pushed it open with a grunt, and the scent hit her first—old wood, stale sweat, and the faint sourness of unwashed sheets. Inside, a lantern flickered weakly, illuminating a cramped space with clutter piled in the corners. There was barely room for two pieces of furniture: a low bed and, beside it, a square tatami mat worn thin from use.
Darkness stepped in slowly, her eyes darting around the room. The sight of the bed so close to the mat made her throat tighten. This looks like a trap…
Sensing her unease, the old man lifted his hands, palms open. "Relax, relax. The mat's for practice, the bed's for sleeping. That's all. You'll see."
She pressed her lips together, cheeks warm as she tried to push down her suspicions. He wasn't forcing her. He wasn't threatening her. He was just… too eager.
And, she admitted reluctantly to herself, so was she.