Chapter 4: Teacher Milk Abitus

"The first step only begins once you’ve crossed your limits. Now, keep going until you literally die!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am!"

Milk Abitus was as ruthless as ever. That was her favorite catchphrase, by the way—and she meant every word of it.

In the end, since she was my instructor for both swordsmanship and magic, I’d started learning both simultaneously to maximize efficiency. That said, I had specifically requested that the swordsmanship course be "hellish" while the magic lessons remain "gentle." My reasoning was simple: if I fainted during the latter, I’d get exactly one "head pat" as a reward.

Wait, is this a new fetish I’ve unlocked? Is my brain still functioning correctly?

"Ah... my consciousness... it’s fading..."

"Two hours, huh? You’ve certainly increased your endurance."

I collapsed to the dirt again. I gritted my teeth, desperately trying to cling to the waking world just long enough to savor the sensation of her palm on my head, before finally blacking out.

---

The same grueling routine repeated day after day.

I ran, I lifted, and I forced my mana to overflow until my lights went out. Time moved fast; before I knew it, half a year had passed.

Through it all, Lilith remained by my side, supporting me without fail. God, she’s so admirable. She listened to my most trivial complaints and anticipated my every need. Plus, she smelled amazing. She was so delicate and slender—her arms looked like they might snap if I gripped them too hard. I had to get stronger. I had to protect her.

She hadn't appeared much in the original game, but I had a vague memory of her having some sort of "hidden lore" setting. Maybe she’s sickly? Or saving up for her family? Something like that. For all I know, she’s a secret princess.

Regardless, my efforts were starting to reflect in my status.

Name: Weiss Fancent Race: Human, Male Age: 15 Occupation: Noble Trainee Level: 2 ⇒ 4 Stamina: 60 ⇒ 300 Mana: 20 ⇒ 1200 Unique Skills: Challenge Play Lv2, Heal Light Lv1, New: Presence Detection Lv1, Concealment Lv1, Mana Manipulation Lv2 Titles: Boneless Ham User, Butler Charmer, New: Hard Worker

The growth was undeniable. My stamina and mana were worlds apart from where I’d started. In fact, the mana increase was so absurd it was almost comical. If I remember the game correctly, isn't this mid-boss level mana?

Back when I started, a morning workout would leave me bedridden by noon. Now, I’d look up from my training and realize the sun had already set. I’d likely picked up Presence Detection because I was always subconsciously looking for Lilith, and I’m pretty sure Concealment came from my desperate attempts to hide from Teacher Milk.

But the Hard Worker title? What is that even supposed to do for me?

"I have to say, I'm impressed," Teacher Milk said abruptly one day. "Weiss, you have a real gift... Honestly, you might be a once-in-a-century talent."

"Wait, what? A century?"

I was genuinely bewildered. She’d never praised me before. I actually braced myself, half-expecting a slap to follow the compliment, but it seemed she wasn't that much of a demon.

"If I focus, I can get a rough sense of a person's mana capacity," she explained. "I’ve seen countless warriors and mages in my time, but your growth rate... it’s abnormal."

While a formal Appraisal Skill didn't exist in this world, seasoned pros could apparently achieve something similar through experience. I’d suspected my numbers were high, but her confirmation settled it. My memory of the game's scaling seemed to be on the mark.

"Of course," she added, "that doesn't change the work we have to do."

"R-Right. Naturally..."

For a split second, I’d hoped I might get a day off. No such luck. But that was fine. I was doing this to rewrite my destiny.

A few months later, the curriculum shifted. We kept up the basics, but combat training was finally added to the mix. I’d expected to start with some wooden sword drills, but Milk went straight into full-contact sparring.

"Too slow! You're nothing but openings!"

"GUEEEHHH!"

A heavy blow caught me in the ribs. She claimed she was holding back, but the pain was agonizing enough to make my vision swim. She kept me right on the edge of death—a line I felt myself crossing more times than I could count.

"Listen, Weiss. Treat every training session like a real battle. And a battle is just a fancy word for a brawl. What do you think is the most important thing in a fight?"

"Um... managing mana and reading the opponent's—"

Another strike to the ribs. Milk was the type to teach through blunt force rather than lectures. But I got the message.

—The first move.

"Guh... Ow... It’s... hit them before they hit you?"

"Exactly. I'm not telling you to go out and pick fights, but the first strike is worth more than any that follow. Even a grand magus dies if you hit them before they can weave a barrier. Even a master of martial arts dies if you snap their neck while they’re distracted."

It was common sense, but executing it was another story entirely. I guess 'talking it out' isn't an option with her... not that I expected it to be.

"Words won't teach you this," she said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Once you're ready, we'll move on to a practical test."

"A practical test...?"

"Oh, you’re going to love it."

It was the first time I’d ever seen her look so genuinely happy. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I knew for a fact she wouldn't be going easy on me. I resolved myself and forced my battered body to stand. Milk’s smile widened.

"Good, Weiss. That’s what I like most about you—your grit. You can't teach talent like that, even to the gifted."

"Haha... thank you, Ma'am."

I only have 'grit' because I'm terrified you'll put a hole through my chest if I give up, I thought, but I kept that to myself.

After several hours of sparring, I thought we were finally done for the day.

"Once you've finished your mana circulation, we're going for another round."

"You've got to be kidding me..."

Behind her, I saw Lilith cheering me on. I’d worried she was neglecting her duties to watch me, but she seemed to be balancing her maid work and her "Weiss-watching" perfectly. Everyone in this house is so damn competent.

"Please do your best, Lord Weiss!"

I appreciated the support, really. I just wished she didn't have to see me looking quite so pathetic.

---

Milk Abitus — POV

I only took this job because I was bored.

I’d hit S-rank as an adventurer without much trouble. I’d served as a Knight Commander in a major kingdom, but even that lost its luster. I was long past my prime. If I were still in my teens, I wouldn't be rotting away in some backwater territory; I’d be out exploring the world.

But reality is a cold mistress. Being born a woman is one of my few life regrets—no matter how much you train your mana, there is a biological ceiling on physical strength.

Then, an old acquaintance—a butler named Zebis—reached out. He wanted me to train the eldest son of a noble house. I recognized the name instantly.

Weiss Fancent. Total aristocratic scum.

The rumors said he enjoyed tormenting the weak and "disciplining" slaves for sport. I’d heard whispers of bodies being quietly disposed of. His reputation among the commoners was hit-bottom. Normally, I wouldn't touch a brat like that with a ten-foot pole, but the pay was astronomical, and Zebis had begged me.

I figured I’d just go through the motions, take the gold, and leave. I assumed he was just some kid having a momentary delusions of grandeur before school started and would quit within a week.

I was wrong.

"I am Milk Abitus. I'll be your instructor."

"My name is Weiss Fancent. I look forward to your tutelage, Teacher Milk. Also, could you please drop the formalities? I want you to be as strict as possible. Don't hold back. Not even a little."

A noble speaking to me with such humility? I nearly blurted out, Do you have any idea what you're asking for, kid?

He wasn't what the rumors suggested, but I’m a professional. I gave him exactly what he asked for.

From that day on, I pushed him. You can't teach swordsmanship to someone who hasn't built a foundation. I wanted to see if he had the heart—if he could put in true effort.

To my astonishment, Weiss followed my instructions to the letter. He didn't whine about wanting to learn flashy techniques; he just sweated, bled, and focused on the basics without a single complaint. He might have been screaming on the inside, but on the outside, he was nothing like the boy in the rumors. He studied, he practiced, and he refined himself with a terrifying singular focus.

In time, I actually started to enjoy teaching him. It helped that his growth rate was monstrous. Sometimes, when we sparred, I’d get the fleeting illusion that I was facing a veteran warrior.

He blew past my mana expectations within weeks. Now, he has as much capacity as a top-tier adventurer. It doesn't matter how many skills you have if you don't have the fuel to use them, and high-level magic is a gas-guzzler. Combat is a numbers game—how many moves can you make before you're empty? Weiss understood that, and he trained like a man possessed to expand his tank.

The other day, I caught someone badmouthing him. Before I could stop myself, I’d stepped in to defend him. He's not that kind of person, I’d said.

That was when I realized it. I didn't just see him as a student anymore. I saw him as my successor.

Of course, I’d die before I admitted that to his face. But the boy is too "good." He’s a saint, and in a real fight, being a saint gets you killed. On the battlefield, "underhanded" is just another word for "victorious."

I’m going to teach him that. I'm going to hammer every bit of my experience into his skull.

"Teacher... I'm at my... limit..."

As I was lost in thought, Weiss’s mana hit zero and he slumped over. Well, I did promise to be gentle during magic lessons.

"There, there. Good boy."

I didn't mind stroking my cute apprentice’s head. He actually looked quite peaceful when he was asleep.

I can feel your bloodlust, Lilith. I knew she wouldn't hesitate to kill me if I actually hurt him. But I wasn't planning on backing down.

I’ve grown quite fond of Weiss myself. I may be a warrior, but I haven't completely discarded my heart as a woman. Watching him grow into a man and then claiming him as my own? That didn't sound like a bad retirement plan at all.

Training, however, was a separate matter. At this rate, he’d be more than ready for the practical test in a few months.

Weiss, I've really taken a liking to you. So please... try not to die.