Chapter 64: Still Overpowered

A Lakeside Gift

“Wow—huge!” Wenger arrived at the lakeside cabin as Vick placed a fish in a bucket. The bucket sat by the water’s edge, unguarded against escaping fish. It could use a fish basket. “Your luck,” Vick said, hinting at their connection. Luck, always luck. If she were truly lucky, would she go a month without a catch?

“Mr. Vick, teasing again.” She handed him a dessert, saying she’d made too much. Truthfully, she hadn’t baked in ages. Ordinary items in her game inventory entered a time-frozen state—a deluxe fridge. She’d stuffed it with spices, ingredients, and finished goods. This cake used last summer’s strawberries, melons, chamomiles, and jasmine cream. Just a few months ago. Overmade, perhaps, but not fresh.

Vick accepted without refusal, then asked, “Are we friends?” The question struck her. It felt familiar, stirring a memory. On the day the meteor fell, Reila had asked the same. She’d sensed her departure. Only Wenger, clueless, hadn’t. “Aren’t we?” She tossed the question back.

A Question of Distance

“Why so formal, then?” Vick’s eyes were empty, not curious or puzzled—just waiting. He’d said she could use his name if surnames bothered her. Yet, she kept the title. She couldn’t explain. Was it caution, distance, or her claim of being a proper lady? Their relationship had evolved. Less distant than their first meeting, but not close. Bound, yet not near.

Their tie, woven by strange fate, grew tighter. It felt delicate to her. How should she view her journey in this world, tied to an unnoticed NPC? Lucky, or… Through a screen, players followed fixed lines, triggering preset plots. Now, he stood before her—alive, with thoughts, emotions, and history. Yet, to her, he was a chance-met stranger.

Facing the Fear

His strength mirrored the game’s—capable of reducing her to ash with a gesture. How could she not fear, suppressing near-instinctive dread? How could she defy centuries of solitary instincts? Likewise, she faced no mere boss with predictable moves. No dodging, micro-jumps, or easy clears with skill. Raw power left no room for finesse. She’d face true gods someday—if she survived.

Pain hurt, stagnation frustrated, and blocked paths brought despair. Those emotions, suppressed repeatedly, she shared with no one. Stepping back, she tucked stray hair behind her ear, her white dress peeking from her black robe. “Mr. Vick, it’s not politeness… I just don’t want to trouble you later.” Smiling, she drew her silver sword. “Teach me.”

A Clash of Blades

Letting a powerhouse into her space without caution wasn’t her nature. She wasn’t a studious witch—she’d fought alone for peace. Always herself, unchanged, in any body. She knew his strength; this was provocation, near suicidal. Yet, their bond let her test her limits and shed unnecessary pride. Vick, eating a bite of cake, set it down and drew his sword calmly. Respect.

He saw the sword’s killing intent merge with her aura. Fierce, pure aggression—she seemed ready to kill him. Beneath her gentle face lay a near-feral instinct. Her past was easy to imagine. Few could face him with such courage. Joy flickered in his eyes, his sword trembling. Blades clashed, the shockwave sending lake water soaring meters high.

An Unexpected Skill

Vick’s presence felt more oppressive than before—mana had restored him. She saw a mountain of corpses behind him but stood unmoved. In a strange state, rationality guided her actions. Calm judgment countered his restrained attacks. Familiar moves sparked a flash in her mind. Leaning back to dodge, she swung instinctively. That angle… Clang!

Vick froze briefly, almost imperceptibly. [Parry: Precise defense and counter, nullifying incoming attacks.] Huh?! A moment’s lapse, and his sword was at her neck. He sheathed it, offering a hand. “Distraction in battle is dangerous.” Without full control, accidents could happen.

Wenger, dazed, nodded slowly, staring oddly. Vick felt an eerie sense of being targeted. Her mind raced. Could she steal a pile of skills from him? Skills trumped raw growth. [Parry] was overpowered but risky, high-reward. Vick showed no reaction, though. She valued her life—normally, it was useless. But with a sparring partner, could she level it?

A Neighborly Gesture

“Magic” lacked a clear upgrade path, adapting to mana and mental strength. How did [Parry] work? More skills were better than none—she wanted to nab more from him. “Has Viyi woken?” “Oh, she’s much better.” Wenger snapped back, handing him a bag of floral tea. A polite host’s gesture—she wanted good neighborly ties. “Thanks.” Vick sat, finishing the cake.

Focused on sparring and the skill’s surprise, she’d vented, leaving her mind blank. She forgot if she’d come for anything else.