The rain knuckled the straight gutter keeping time. The main room was clear—bag under the ceiling hook, crates shoved back, hearth warm enough to take the edge off the morning.
"Breath first," Taro said.
"Then coin," Trixie finished, smiling.
Their mantra resonates with them as they say it once again to solidify their mentality for the day.
They made a date of the work for the day.
Morning — Clarity Drills
On the stairs, they did Armor Steps—one step up on the out-breath, standing tall so the weight settles through the heel and hip. Ten clean reps; no wobble. Adding in a running in place session to add to the challenge and their stamina growth.
On the bag, Taro kept it simple and clear:
Half-step in (Snap Step): a quick slide barely half a shoe—be there before your foot admits it.
Jab–cross–hook: straight, straight, short arc. He explained as he moved: "Jab to disorient, cross to follow the hit and build the damage, then hook to knock out or rattle the brain."
Guard Melt: tap-tap the exact same spot during one breath—persuade, don't bash—then finish with his short, breath-driven Surge.
He capped Surges at three; the ribs remembered. Then came the hits combos. 1-2 hits, hook hook upper, jab jab cross, every combo was done 50 times to solidify the combo, internalize it, and make them habits to not even think about when combat was essentially down to a second of hesitation for a key reflex.
Across the room, Trixie mirrored with her set:
Buckler parries: high, middle, low—catch and turn the force, don't fight it. Follow up with a sword slash, a thrust, or a pommel bash. One of the three hits followed the parry to capitalize on the open breath to fill.
Riposte: the instant the parry lands true, a quick straight stab into the opening—no wind-up. And with deadly accuracy that would cost foes their lives or their movements.
Roof Guard (new): buckler up like a little roof to catch an overhand or falling blow.
Shield shoulder: a little bump to move an enemy one brick sideways—just enough to steal balance. And force an opening to own.
Between rounds, they walked a taped square on the floor. Taro called simple steps—forward, angle right, back—showing how a "slip" is just "head left while the feet stay honest," and a "weave" is "dip the knees to let the swing pass, then come up with your answer."
He snugged her gorget a thumb so it wouldn't rub when she turned; she smoothed his face-wrap over cheek and temple with exact thumbs. Their touch lingered longer now, enjoying feeling their wamrth, their breath, and their pulse through their hands. A kiss is stolen as they enjoy their closeness and then went to bathe. Trixie was tempted to join, but Taro told her to focus on her own bathing and to join when she was comfortable. He rtail beat a quick double beat as she enjoyed his care and began to prepare her heart and mind for when she can join him in the bath with affection helping her nerves.
A neat pane flickered:
Recognized Training (home).
Martial God's Champion — Blessed Growth: +2 to all stats.
Taro: Parry-Catch (Concept) unlocked — open-palm pat to redirect a jab, sets up short counters.
Trixie: Roof Guard (Concept) unlocked — buckler raised to cover crown/temples against overhands.
Team Passive — Call-and-Breath I progress ↑.
They ate skillet hash under the window while rain shouldered the walls, then buckled their kit and went to the guild.
Guild Briefing — New Hunt
Kelda slid a slate across, stamped and smug. "F3 contract: Pugilist Hobgoblin. Travels with two dire wolves and a hob shield. Likes body shots and clinch knees; fast feints; armored forearms and wraps. Estimated stats: STR ~75, END ~70, AGI ~78. Bounty 80s, plus shares. Bring safety and come back alive."
Niya ghosted up, cloak damp, braid high. "Two-arrow rule," she murmured. "One to stop trouble. One to stop the plan."
Trixie tightened her buckler strap and looked at Taro. "I count for calm. I call Roof! on overhands. I break the clinch with the buckler rim."
Taro offered his hands. She wrapped them snug; he checked the sword's balance on her hip. He kissed her brow-guard, quick and certain.
"Hands up," she said.
"Chin down," he grinned.
They descended into the bowels of the dungeon, avoiding most foes. And finding their way to the third floor with little issue.
F3 had its own weather: low ceiling, root pillars, slick stone, stale musk. A thin whistle cut the dark—double-pitched, push-and-bite.
Two squad leaders rounded a bend with a dire pair.
"Tripline, knee-height," Niya breathed.
Taro let his eyes blur and felt the wrong line by absence. Rope-Cut Step slid his foot past without touching. He met the first gob shield with tap-tap on the same seam (Guard Melt), then Surge across the jaw hinge—small, honest, final. A dire lunged high for his shoulder; Trixie brought the buckler up on his out-breath (Roof!), caught fang on leather, and cut low through hip—no drama, just a line that makes a leg decide not to help. She slid back behind his rear shoulder before the wolf realized it had made a choice.
The second leader tried to time a shove to a whistle. Niya's arrow erased the whistle and the ambition behind it. Taro finished with two short punches—body then head—clear and unhurried.
Combat Adaptation Registered.
Blessed Growth: +2 to all stats.
Taro: Parry-Catch (Novice) — cleaner open-palm redirection; sets short counters.
Trixie: Roof Guard (Novice) — better coverage vs. overhands.
They breathed together. The floor listened.
A heavier smell, pine-bitter.
"Timbers," Niya mouthed.
Two timber wolves came low and coordinated—one to shoulder-shove, one to bite where a stumble lands you. "Cover!" Trixie called, checked the shove with the buckler and slid one brick sideways; the bite slid through air where she'd been. Taro half-stepped inside, short right to the jaw hinge, then a hook to the ribs—no wind-up, bodyweight through the shot cracking bones and rattling organs. Niya's second shaft clipped a lunging muzzle and uncoupled their ugly rhythm. The elite pair broke like a thought reconsidered. A quick stab from her sword through the gap in ribs ensured they could harvest the wolves with no return attacks.
They went on: meters at a time, no chases. Then they found the space of their target.
The chamber was low, the floor slick, pillars thick as old trees. Two dires fanned wide. A hob shield planted in front. Center-back, the Pugilist Hobgoblin bounced on his toes—cheek-guard helm, forearm bracers, knuckle wraps, eyes that liked choosing.
"Wolves first," Taro said.
The nearer dire rushed. "Roof!" Trixie called; her buckler took the high bite, quick riposte slipped into ribs, then she was back behind his right shoulder as promised even as the dire was falling to the floor with no breath left in its lungs. Taro slipped his head off the line, half-stepped in, and ran a simple ladder—body shot, head shot, short right—until the legs chose the floor.
Niya pinned the shield's ankle to the stone; Taro went tap-tap on the same bracer seam (one breath), Surge punched through the softening—shield dropped, token skittered.
The Pugilist arrived—double jab, feinted cross, step-in clinch with a knee, trying to walk Taro into a pillar.
"Hands up, chin down," Taro told himself.
He parry-caught the first jab (open palm pat), half-stepped inside the cross, and answered with a short hook to body, tight uppercut to head—short shots, nothing flashy. The Pugilist grabbed; Taro wedged a forearm, turned the hip, and peeled the elbow open.
"Break!" Trixie called, buckler edge kissed the exposed ribs, then she was gone again, exactly where she should be.
The hob tossed a wide overhand; "Roof!" Trixie sang. Taro drop-stepped inside (Ki Pulse Step), then went body-head-right—the kind of honesty bones remember.
Combat Adaptation Registered.
Blessed Growth: +2 to all stats.
Taro: Shoulder Roll (Concept) — turn the shoulder so the shot glances off; counter off the far hand.
Trixie: Riposte I timing ↑ under pressure.
The Pugilist turtled behind bracers. Taro tap-tapped the same seam again (persuade, don't bludgeon), then sent a Surge to the jaw hinge—short, breath-powered, just enough. The hob, despite a rattled brain from the surge, shoved in one last time with a knee; Taro rolled his shoulder so it skidded instead of sank, answered short right to body, short right to head. The helm rang. The hob decided to sit down and failed at the standing part. its eyes glassed over before its head lolled to the side, hitting the floor and never stirring again.
A sapper lifted glass in the corner; Niya pinned the wrist and the idea in one arrow. Trixie came up and made sure its throat was no longer working with a slash that would cut a banner in the wind.
Silence arrived the way water does after a break—first a rush, then a decision to be still.
They held the line until there was nothing left to hold.
The aftermath of the battle was the fun part for the party.
They pulled clean: ropes, wedges, seam cloth, tokens. Not too much to worry about, just tired work that allowed them to earn their coins and keep an eye out for trouble trying to steal it. Outside, the light had been scrubbed to silver by the last parts of the storm.
Kelda wrote tight, lips tighter. "Pugilist bounty 80s. Dire/wolf/ear shares—24s + 18s + 12s. Training stipend for clean notes—10s. Total 1g 44s. Good hunt. If you want there is another force. A door breaching force to check the floor. If you desire, then bring your boring."
"Breath before doors," Taro said.
"Always," Trixie said, and bumped his pauldron with the buckler rim.
They split water on the walk; he checked the wrap at her thumb; she straightened his face-guard with careful and measured fingers. Niya drifted past and didn't say good work, which is how Niya always says good work.
At the townhouse, the gutter held its line like a friend with sense. They didn't make speeches. They ate hot things, wrote small numbers, and let their hands brush on purpose exactly twice.
On the ledger:
Start of day (Ch.14 end): ~9g 79s
Hunt total: +1g 44s → ~11g 23s
Trixie colored in two boxes by "House 4g." She looked up, eyes bright.
"House first?" she asked.
He glanced at her buckler, then the roof. "House first," he said. "And the shield that keeps us boring."
They walked to the landlord, put down 4g with the satisfaction of not gambling, and stepped back into the street lighter and steadier.
By late light, they stood outside Harrow & Son with coin counted and quotes in hand—Trixie's reinforced set + steel buckler and tempered sword, or both orders if they dared shrink the cushion.
She touched the rim of her buckler to his pauldron. A small ritual. Theirs.
"Breath," she said.
"Then doors," he answered, and pushed the shop door open.
Status — Taro
Class: Monk I
Title: Martial God's Champion (SSS)
HP: 820 base (10× END 82) → 1320 effective (END 132 during combat/training)
Ki: 75
Base Stats (Ch.14 → post-Ch.15)
STR: 80 → 84
END: 78 → 82
AGI: 76 → 80
SPIRIT: 57 → 61
MIND: 54 → 58
LUCK: 53 → 57
Ki: 71 → 75
Effective Physicals (SSS +50 active)STR 134 | END 132 | AGI 130
New/Updated Techniques
Parry-Catch (Novice): open-palm pat on jab; sets short counters.
Shoulder Roll (Concept): turn shoulder to shed shot; counter off far hand.
Clinch Peel (Concept): forearm wedge + hip turn to open elbow and break the clinch.
Guard Melt I,Centerline Surge (Novice),Snap Step I,Ki Pulse Step (Novice),Weave Engine II,Counter-Tempo III,Load-Bearing Breath II,Rooted Frame (Novice),Rope-Cut Step (Novice),Formation Breach (Novice).
Team Passives
Call-and-Breath I (progress ↑), Cover Call I,Heartbeat Sync I (with Trixie).
Trixie — Updates
Roof Guard (Novice),Riposte I (timing ↑), Buckler Guard I,Shield Shoulder (Novice),Porter Brace I.
Ledger
Purse after hunt: ~11g 23s
House balance: paid 4g (remaining 0) → ~7g 23s on hand
Quotes in hand (no spend yet):
Trixie package ≈ 2g 84s (reinforced porter-cut + steel buckler + tempered arming sword)
Taro package ≈ 2g 90s (reinforced torso set + add-ons)
Cushion if both now: ≈ ~1g 49s remaining