Untouchable (A VRMMO LitRPG ManhwaBook)

Vol. 2 Chapter 23



Vol. 2 Chapter 23

Seer’s PoV

As the audience made their way towards the exits, they were greeted by a festive atmosphere outside the stadium. Food stalls and merchandise booths lined the walkways, offering a variety of snacks, drinks, and souvenirs for the fans to enjoy. Music played in the background, creating a lively ambiance and keeping the energy high even as the opening ceremony came to a close.

Transportation arrangements were also made to facilitate the audience's departure. Shuttle buses and taxis were available near the exits, ready to transport the spectators to their respective destinations. The organizers seemed to have coordinated with local transportation authorities to ensure a smooth flow of traffic and minimize any inconvenience for the attendees. This event is clearly well prepared, leaving me without complaints.

My team and I, along with other participants, are making our way towards the designated exit for players. The opening ceremony concluded early, granting us some free time. While it is not mandatory for us to return to the hotel immediately, most participants seem to be heading in that direction. Among them is our allied team, Paradigm, whose strategist, Katherine, is currently engaged in a conversation with Lucy and Aria about the ceremony, accompanied by their captain, Elizabeth. Katherine proposes the idea of collaborating on practice matches, which offers numerous benefits for both of our teams and a few drawbacks. Given the favorable terms, I see no reason to decline her suggestion.

On our way to the exit, I saw a familiar figure staring at me. When he saw me looking at him, he waved casually, providing a subtle clue to his identity. Despite his face being concealed, I could easily recognize him, as I had encountered that very same figure countless times within the game.

Abruptly, I stopped in my tracks, prompting my friend Blake to cast a curious glance in my direction.

"You guys go ahead," I informed him. "I have something I need to take care of first."

“What is it?” he asked, his curiosity winning over him again.

"No need for you to know," I replied bluntly.

"Tsk, alright, have it your way," he responded, slightly exasperated. "But are you sure you'll be okay on your own?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," I assured him. "I know my way around."

He shrugged, continuing on his path toward the exit with the others, leaving me behind.

I approached the shady figure close to the exit of the venue but far away from any eventgoers to interrupt our conversation.

"It's good to see you again, Seer. How have you been?" he casually greeted as I got near, all the while lifting his face mask, allowing me to see his face.

“…I’m perfectly fine, Master,” I replied respectfully.

He let out a sigh. "You're always so formal. I've already told you so many times to just speak to me casually."

"I apologize, but I hold you in such high regard that I find it difficult to speak to you in a casual manner."

He gave me a defeated look. “Alright, alright. So, how do you find your first grand tournament so far?”

We conversed for a while as we engaged in casual topics, but the majority of our discussion revolved around him checking up on me and my team, which I genuinely appreciated.

"Forgive me for asking, but what brings you here? I assume it's not solely to watch us play," I inquired during a lull in our conversation.

"I did come here to show my support for all of you, but you're right. I do have another purpose. Can you speculate on what it might be?" he inquired, employing the customary tone that he often used when challenging my critical thinking skills.

I pondered the question carefully, considering if there was any specific reason for him to be present. Suddenly, it struck me – I remembered that he was in the process of forming a team. It became clear to me that this was the underlying reason for his presence here.

“Do you plan to recruit members here for the team you plan to make?”

“Bingo,” he gave me a proud smile that made me feel… quite satisfied.

"You could always consider recruiting us. I'm confident that the others would be interested in joining if we approach them together," I suggested.

Upon hearing my proposal, his smile faded and transformed into a frown.

“Nah, your team would be flooded by sponsors after this tournament, especially since the CoA team has gone all out in advertising. I don’t have that much of a budget, and my facilities are not up to par compared to famous gaming organizations. I am confident that you and your teammates will have a wide range of options when it comes to recruitment, as any organization that brings you on board will benefit from the added publicity of being the protégés of the most iconic team in CoA history. Besides, I already have found one member on my team. She’s still currently a diamond in the rough but has a high potential for improvement. I would loathe to have to kick her if you four joined because of your team’s cohesion.”

“…I see,” I replied, unable to hide the disappointment in my tone.

I understand that he is making this decision for our benefit, to protect our promising future as e-sports players from the uncertainty of the team he is planning to make. However, I have always harbored a dream of teaming up with him, even before he took me under his wing as his apprentice. Even though he will only coach now, it doesn't matter to me as long as I have the opportunity to be a part of his team.

“Anyone you could recommend from the participants that you think has potential?” sensing my mood, he casually changed the subject.

At his query, one person instantly came to the forefront of my mind. An aberrant in the tournament. Someone who is not only strategically competent but also skilled enough to stall a hasted Ariadne for an absurd amount of time.

“Novo,” I murmured.

“Who?”

“Katherine Katyusha, in-game name Novo, a member of team Paradigm. The support player and strategist for their team. She survived a hasted Ariadne and with me giving support fire until she entered a fatigued state due to her lack of stats. This feat was accomplished without any assistance from her fellow teammates.

"Hoh?" he exclaimed, clearly impressed by the information. "Are you certain that Ariadne didn't go easy on her?"

"That's what I initially suspected as well, but upon analyzing the replay of the practice match, it doesn't appear to be the case," I explained.

"Hmm, could it be that Ariadne is losing her edge? Her mentor wouldn't be pleased to hear that," he joked, his expression turning sentimental as he reminisced about his former teammate.

I paused, allowing him a moment to reflect before continuing.

"On the contrary, she is in peak condition. She's the strongest I've ever seen her. She's truly determined to win this tournament."

"Now that's intriguing. I believe I'll have to conduct further research on this girl you've mentioned. I didn't bother researching the qualifiers because most of the opponents there didn't present much of a challenge. It's difficult to gauge a player's true potential when facing weak opponents. However, if you claim that a support player was able to hold off Ariadne for such a significant amount of time, then I think it's definitely worth investigating."

--------------------------------

"Alright, pay attention. Mastering the art of wielding a spear requires precision and timing. You must be calculated and strategic, precise and lethal," I attempted to channel my inner drill sergeant to teach my troublesome student.

Following the conclusion of the opening ceremony, we wasted no time and proceeded straight to our training regimen. Currently, Clarence and I found ourselves in a sprawling player-made dueling arena, specifically designed for players to refine their skills and engage in friendly battles. The ground beneath us is smooth and polished, providing an ideal surface for swift movements and nimble footwork. This private PvP lobby ensures uninterrupted training sessions for us. I'm currently equipped with a newbie training spear with low stats requirements for me to teach him better.

"Since when did you become an expert in spears?" Clarence stared at me, unamused.

"I believe I have a stronger foundation than you do, at the very least, considering you are clearly self-taught," I rebuked.

"And what's wrong with that? After all, many geniuses are self-taught," he countered.

"That’s not entirely accurate. The majority of individuals acquire experience by emulating the techniques of others. It is only after mastering these techniques that they can develop their unique style. Disregarding the centuries of refinement by countless spear masters just to create a new style from scratch, especially as a novice in the craft, is impractical. Success in a craft often involves integrating various styles and enhancing them through practice and adaptation. And when you’re good enough, that is when you can teach yourself your own style and become what you call ‘self-taught’," I explained as I defaulted to the teacher mode I mostly show towards his sister.

"Spare me the history lesson," he murmured, expressing his discontent.

“You, on the other hand, are not good enough to begin with, so your style is so unpolished that it has many glaring weaknesses,” I ignored his complaint and continued.

It is only his natural skills and instincts that got him this far. It's enough to beat average and skilled players, but for the players of this tournament’s caliber, let alone professional players, he wouldn’t stand a chance without proper technique.

“Tsk! Alright, fine! If it could help me get stronger,” he exclaimed.

“I’m glad we could see eye to eye,” I deadpanned. “Then let's start by mastering two moves.”

The good thing about him is that I don’t have to hold back in talking to him and teaching him. I can be blunt whenever I want and I’m sure he’ll just take it in stride.

"Only two?" he complained as if I had just scammed him of his money.

"Well, mastering these two techniques alone will give you a solid foundation to build upon. Have you heard of the saying that you should not fear someone who has practiced 10,000 kicks once but fear someone who has practiced one kick 10,000 times?”

“I…think I have,” he replied, a tint of uncertainty in his voice.

I nodded approvingly. “It greatly applies to the technique I’m about to teach you. These two techniques are the most efficient and quickest spear styles I've ever seen. If you master them, I'm confident they will be sufficient against opponents who are unfamiliar with their speed and rhythm, except for professional players who would likely have counterplays prepared for you if you solely rely on only two moves, no matter how effective they may be,” I helpfully explained.

“Seen? So, you’re only copying the techniques?”

"I also made some minor adjustments to better tailor it to your needs. And as I mentioned earlier, mastery often comes through adaptation. I have full confidence in my analytical and observational abilities to accurately replicate the move set," I reassured him.

"And from whom did you acquire these techniques you're going to teach me?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"... From a passing spear master,” I answered vaguely.

I can’t tell him that I had made some modifications to Vlad's stance in order to better align it with his play style. It took extensive research on both of their stances and countless hours of trial and error throughout the entire night, leaving me with only a few hours of sleep. Fortunately, there are no matches scheduled for today and tomorrow, allowing me to catch up on rest. Otherwise, I would have been competing with one eye closed due to exhaustion.

He stared at me with a look of defeat before acquiescing.

“Fine, keep your secrets. I don’t really care anyway either way. I just want to get stronger so I don’t have to lose again.”

It seems like he gave up on prying, knowing that I can be stubborn in maintaining my silence and keeping my secrets to myself. That’s better for me, though since I don’t have to lie to him straight.

"Alright, let's start with the first stance," I said, gesturing for him to stand in front of me. "This is the move that I would like to call ‘The Guardian’s Pose’. It's all about protecting yourself while maintaining an advantageous position."

I approached him and began explaining the first stance. I demonstrated the ‘Guardian's Pose,’ a defensive stance that emphasized stability and protection. I explained how to hold the spear with a firm grip, positioning it diagonally across the body to create a barrier against incoming attacks. I emphasized the importance of balance and footwork, showing him how to pivot and move seamlessly while maintaining the defensive position.

"Now, try it yourself," I encouraged him.

“Seems simple enough,” he replied confidently.

He mimicked my stance, adjusting his position until he felt comfortable, while I pointed out the minor errors I noticed in his stance. I observed as he focused on his form, ensuring that he grasped the fundamentals. He was a quick learner, almost as good as his sister. I guess the apple does fall from the same tree. It also helps that he is indeed experienced in using spears.

"Good enough. Now, let's move on to the second stance," I continued, a small smile forming on my face at how fast he learns. "This one is called the Offensive Stance. It's all about unleashing your power and striking with precision."

I moved on to exhibit the "Striker's Stance," a more aggressive and dynamic position. I explained how to hold the spear with a looser grip, allowing for swift and fluid movements. I demonstrated the proper alignment of the body, with one foot forward and the other slightly back, ready to launch into an attack. I showed him how to thrust and lunge with precision and power, utilizing the length of the spear to his advantage. We did it a couple of times until he got it correctly.

“Is that all? Are you sure it will make me stronger?” he asked after successfully replicating both stances.

“Probably,” I shrugged.

He gave me a stern look in response to the unsatisfactory answer.

"Allow me to explain first," I quickly interrupted him before he had a chance to voice his complaint. "Before you can make significant improvements and progress, I believe it is crucial for us to address your greatest weakness, which is your mindset."

“…What do you mean,” he queried, his interest clearly sparked.

"What I’m getting at is that it doesn't matter how good your stance is if you can't effectively apply it to your advantage during matches. Do you know what the greatest strength of a spear is?" I inquired.

“How cool it looks?” he answered immediately without even giving a second thought to his words.

It’s my turn to stare daggers at him. "Don't tell me you chose the spear as your main weapon solely because you thought it looked cool," I judgingly asked.

"N-not entirely," he stammered, attempting to reason out of my arbitrary glare. "I also have experience with javelin throws from my high school days, so I do possess some knowledge of how to throw spears... if the situation calls for it."

"You do realize that if you throw your weapon at the enemy, you essentially render yourself unarmed and probably already lost the fight, right?" I pointed out.

“Hey! I outplayed you back then when we first fought by throwing my spear at you though!”

The memory of the time when he desperately clung to me, as if his life depended on it, while unknowingly sacrificing himself as Chu's suicide bomber resurfaced in my mind.

"...Please don't remind me," I involuntarily shivered at the memory.

"Hmph, it's your fault in the first place. Don't blame me for bringing up the past to emphasize my point," he retorted, turning his head away in embarrassment.

We remained in an uncomfortable silence for some time until I made a deliberate effort to shift the conversation back to the main topic.

"Ahem, getting back to the matter at hand. The greatest advantage of a spear is its extended reach compared to other weapons. It is essential to constantly be aware of your distance from your opponent," I emphasized.

"I already do that though," he confidently replied.

"No, you don't," I firmly disputed. "You often find yourself getting swept up in your opponent's pace. As the one who has the reach advantage, it is your role to establish and control the pace of the fight."

He paused, lost in thought, perhaps reflecting on the times he had lost his matches.

"I… I suppose that's true," he admits. "But I feel like it would be seen as cowardly to refuse a close-up melee fight against an opponent who wishes for it."

“There is a thin line between bravery and stupidity, and giving your opponent the advantage in pace and distance is extremely stupid,” I immediately countered.

"Ack!" he exclaimed, clearly taken aback by my straightforward and blunt response.

“Why do you want to look good in a fight anyway? It’s not like it’s necessary to win?” I pried.

"Hmph, you won't understand because you're a girl. A real man doesn't back down from a challenge,” he unhelpfully explained.

“…. You’re right, I really don’t…”

As someone like me who is willing to do whatever it takes to win, I genuinely don't understand why he is so preoccupied with appearances and the notion of looking "manly."

I took some time to contemplate my next words, hoping to find a way to persuade him to at least consider his perspective.

“But I do think that someone who doesn’t care what other thinks too much of how they look, someone who is unaffected by others’ perception of them and only strives to win while doing their very best and achieving victory in the process, looks a whole lot cooler compared to those who are hindered by trying to keep up appearances," I expressed my honest opinion.

He gave me a perplexing look, his expression difficult to decipher. There was a prolonged silence before he finally spoke up again.

"You certainly have a way with words," he murmured, taking a moment to reconsider my earlier statement.

It took a while before he came to a definite conclusion. "Alright, I'll give it a shot,” he sighed defeatedly. “But if I end up looking uncool and still lose, I'll hold you accountable, understood?!" he exclaimed.

I gave him a grateful smile. “That is all I ask, and I’m sure it will greatly increase the chance for our team to win our matches,” I approvingly replied, causing him to turn his head in embarrassment.

"Now that we've addressed your problematic mindset, let's proceed to the practice. Repeat both stances I taught you earlier a thousand times until they become ingrained in your muscle memory," I unceremoniously ordered.

“Are you insane?!” he shouted.

Hmm… It does seem overwhelming for him. However, for me, practicing intensely every day for more than two months before the AC cup was a normal routine. Reflecting on it now, I kind of realize how absurd it was that I was able to maintain such dedication. I can't imagine going through that level of practice again in my current state. Looking back, my drive to win during that time was incredibly intense, to the point where it could be described as borderline suicidal. But I guess that anything is possible when you have the drive and determination to achieve something.

"I'll give you a choice then. Either perform both ‘The Guardian’s Pose’ and “The Striker’s Stance’ a thousand times or simply land a hit on me while transitioning from one stance to another," I proposed.

This seems better to motivate him to practice instead of just repeatedly practicing the stance. It also provides him with a proper training partner for him to learn faster and more efficiently. It also helps me practice my dodges, even just a little.

He smiled savagely, “You’re on! Don’t you dare regret it!”

I smiled in response. I get the feeling he is the one who will regret that decision later.

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com


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