Novel Bin Chapter 22: Unwanted attention[2]
Chapter 22: Unwanted attention[2]
Noah's POV:
A ballad from Galandrath's book of legends narrates the history of 'Art.'
The ancient book of Galandrath's legends, I am fascinated by the prophecies of its manuscripts, poems, ballads, dramas, and stories.
The lore in itself is a fascinating work of art.
But, this made me question one thing
'Was my writing the cause of this world's creation, or was it the other way around?'
Until now, I regarded this world as an insignificant piece.
But no matter how much I deny it, this world has a history of its own, a history that I did not write.
No matter how much I resist accepting it.
I looked at the machete in my hand. New novel chaptš¯’†rs are published on novel(b)in(.)com
'I need to learn how to use this thing but without an 'Art' its pointless'
I do have a skill but it's just a skill.
There is no reason for me to practice a skill, skills are just that- skill.
They need no special training. One simply activates them and applies mana accordingly.
Skills are limited in their functionality; they can only be utilized for specific movements.
In contrast, an Art requires instruction as it operates like a martial art, which can be incorporated into one's fighting style upon mastery.
Nonetheless, the expense involved renders Arts only accessible to noble classes.
Highly powerful Arts are often restricted solely to a particular sect or one's own family lineage.
Although I am aware of the location of some Arts in dungeons and other areas, I lack the means to access them.
This is not some cliche novel, this is real.
To undertake such a mission, I would require a guide, the necessary monetary funds, transportation, a team, and even authorization from authorities.
Additionally, some Arts are situated on different continents or countries, necessitating air travel.
While their did exist low level art which costs low but knowing what is to come in future they will be waste of my time.
And the only skill I have is..momentum transfer. An F ranked skill.
After thinking for a while I decided to ask Nano for advice.
I explained my dilemma to Nano.
[The solution to the issue is straightforward in nature; you need to infuse the aforementioned skill into your unique approach to combat]
[While it may be a source of concern for Master Noah to engage in the practice of fighting without the implementation of any 'Art', it can be surmounted if Master Noah were to achieve mastery of the footwork and acquaint himself thoroughly with the machete's characteristics.]
[I shall undertake the task of constructing a specific fighting style to accomodate Master Noah's requirements.]
I expressed a nod of contentment, though a concern soon arose within me.
"But what of the instructor? If she witnesses me dedicating my time to footwork rather than utilizing the weapon, she may disapprove."
Instructor Yilin mentioned the importance of familiarizing ourselves with our personal weapons.
But, students like Aeravat and Takashi, who already possess an Art, were permitted to practice their respective styles.
Us extras, without Art were instructed to adjust to the weapon.
Eventually, we will be slated to receive an instructor manual and learn combat Art(Ranked Bronze)- an art I deemed useless and had zero interest in.
Given my lack of talent, I knew I wouldn't receive any special attention either.
With a nonchalant tone, I replied, "Let us cross that bridge when we come to it."
After all, what were the possibilities of an extra, as opposed to the central characters, being noticed by the instructor?
I'm like an invisible presence, a mere extra. It's unlikely to catch her attention. Realistically speaking, I'm going to be overlooked and left alone, fulfilling my role as the extra while she focuses on Aeravat or Takahasi.
It's like Aikido; it's all about flowing with the situation and letting it carry you.
I grinned at the thought, nodding in satisfaction.
I walked towards an empty space, far from the crowd to give myself a better position.
I gradually lowered myself onto my left knee, adopting a squatting position.
I then leaned forward with my head, followed by the rest of my body until assuming a runner's stance.
While firmly planting my left hand on the ground, I slowly raised my right hand.
The machete's blunt edge adhered to my extensor carpiulnaris while the sharp edge aligned with the outer side of my elbow, machete in a reverse grip.
Finally, I lifted my right hand in an elbow punch position.
Following Nano's guidance, I launched myself from my initial position, harnessing the momentum to mimic the 'skill' during the final stage of the jump.
At first glance, my actions may have appeared comical to spectators as I crouched and leaped while brandishing my blade.
Regrettably, my initial suspicions were validated as I overheard jeering comments from onlookers.
-"Look at that buffoon! Hahaha!"
-"This is quite amusing!"
As I continued to practice, more people began to pay attention to my seemingly 'ridiculous behavior', drawing the unwelcome attention.
It was then that instructor Yilin called outā€”"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Hieek!"
In that moment, I could only utter, "Fuck me" in frustration.
***
Aurora's POV:
As I continued to practice, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust and annoyance creeping up on me.
A pale boy with black hair and dark eyes had caught my attention, and not for a good reason.
Instructor Yilin already told him not to do it but after the instructor leaves he again does it.
Despite Instructor Yilin's repeated instructions and efforts, the boy was making constant commotion, moving around with a machete in his hand and jumping from one spot to another.
It was a disgraceful display, and it was clear that he lacked the seriousness and dedication required to succeed in such a prestigious institute.
I could feel his aura, and it was nothing but a pitiful low rank.
Critical remarks about his trash-like behavior consumed my mind.
How could he sit there, wasting everyone's time with his incompetence?
It was an insult to all those who had worked hard and deserved to be here.
This boy had no business being here at all.
With each movement, it seemed as though he was intentionally seeking attention.
As the minutes ticked by, my sense of annoyance and disdain began to seep out, consuming me.
His pointless actions were a plain disregard for the time and effort put in by the other students, meant toiling towards their shared goals.
"Should I tell Takahasi to do something about him"ā€”I spoke to thin air.
'Nah, it's not worth it,' I thought to myself.