In Another World with Absolute Awareness

There were three things that Aventine was working on while on the Quest with Very Sighed.

The first was to figure out how they came up with such a... weird name. What did "Very Sighed" even mean?

He didn’t know.

And apparently, the members of the party also did not know.

Thus, Aventine concluded that it was a joke and did not waste mana on figuring that out.

Instead, he drew upon his earlier inspiration with Melia. With <Perfect Estimate> at his disposal, he had come to realize its usefulness in theory crafting.

With no need to test, he could build a Martial Art perfectly suited to him. Of course, that meant he would be trusting his estimates completely.

That would be quite dangerous if he had <Perfect Estimate> alone, but [Absolute Awareness] helped remedy the little potholes along the way.

’Well, little is an understatement.’

The Martial Art he made for Melia was a stopgap. The <Dance of a Thousand Cuts> only had one core truth—to cut a thousand times.

It did not matter how, as long as one could continue; that was all that was needed to practice it.

There was no other finesse nor technique to it. It simply allowed the user to keep on cutting until a thousand cuts had been made.

At least, that would be at A-Rank.

Aventine had only created the F-Rank idea of it all and given it an appropriate name to enlighten Melia on how to advance it herself. It was a technique specifically designed to help her break through her Physique’s F-Rank stat bottleneck.

What Aventine wanted to make for himself was something a little different.

He needed a body that could synergize with his Gift and internalize whatever it received, like a physical library of movements and techniques.

The demons before him were a great source of inspiration in that regard.

Their race was the most hurried learners of all. Their very existence was hinged on the fact that they needed to grow strong and fast.

Therefore.

Aventine planned on taking notes on their biology. Being this close to them would also make the analysis much simpler.

Doing this reminded him of something that mages had to do. Or perhaps it would be what wizards did.

Something he had overlooked because of the gift he used like an extension of himself.

Research and development.

This was the third and final point of interest he wanted to begin expanding upon.

** *

Pulvir found the adventurer named Aventine unsettling in a way he could not describe. The way his eyes bore ill-concealed curiosity that bordered on obsession.

That smile he put on, as if he was excited to watch a bloodbath occur.

The adventurer’s obsidian irises reflected his own gaze like a still lake at midnight. It settled on him, waiting for him to move on his own.

To see where his decisions would lead him.

It felt... humiliating.

But Pulvir bottled it up, pouring that humiliation into the shield on his back. They needed to retrieve Kirivan’s legacy and spread it among demonkind.

’It’s the only way we can escape...’ Thinking this, he looked around at his companions, all chained like him.

They were ostracized among the demons, with fangs that were said to be dull and a mind that was slow and sluggish. They learned slowly, they fought with lacking resolve, and never seemed capable of self-sacrifice.

To the High Demons, especially... They were nothing more than useful tools to create immensely powerful weapons.

Should they fail in this mission, Pulvir would lose an important trump card and lose credibility among the demons. No longer would they value him and his squad.

Their fate would be the torture chamber, to undergo unimaginable suffering for the sake of forging a Sin Blade.

Pulvir always felt shivers when he thought about all of his older siblings being thrown into a blender.

The dome shield forged through them was... impenetrable.

...And that was why he was terrified.

What kind of hatred and indignation did a Chained Demon need to pour into their weapon to get it to that point? How much suffering and torture did they have to undergo?

His own shield was paper in comparison.

A mere C-Rank.

"Hah," Pulvir let out a resigned chuckle.

"Oi, Little Vir— Spacing out again? Really? Right before we enter some undead monster’s lair?"

Ghush, towering over Pulvir’s shoulder, gave a playful shove. Then, the Half-Orc enjoyed a good guffaw.

Pulvir grunted in annoyance, pulling his thoughts back into reality.

’Has his brain turned to mush just because he is an orcish berserker? I’ll have to choose races that are more compatible with our biology in the future.’

Still, he berated Ghush in his heart.

"Don’t laugh so loudly, Ghush. You’re announcing our presence to every nearby undead!"

Quince tilted his head at Pulvir’s words. "The undead don’t react to sounds. They’ll sense us because we’re alive."

Pulvir’s shaggy, dwarven beard shook. "Don’t focus on the details! What I’m saying is that it’s always a good idea to maintain a certain level of stealth while we explore."

"Our leader’s words make sense~" Shima hummed in amusement, watching as the three boys in the party began bickering.

Li’lsuo just shook her head in resignation.

Pulvir, Quince, and Ghush continued to banter as Aventine led them into the crypt.

Shima and Li’lsuo inwardly nodded at the adventurers’ professionalism, not even glancing at the bickering boys.

They were lucky this time. The guide for their adventure seemed reliable.

"Hm,"

Suddenly, Aventine stopped. Ghush suddenly stiffened as he sniffed the air.

"There’s an undead that just formed. Two minutes until it reaches us."

He took a step back.

"Please prepare yourselves. I usually avoid these guys, but our group is too big to deceive their senses. There’s too much life in one place."

Shima took this opportunity to nock an arrow onto her wrist-mounted crossbow. She spoke after checking her gear once. "What are the characteristics of the undead?"

"It is a Lesser Skeleton Assassin. I think you can figure it out from there."

Hearing this, Shima looked at Pulvir and Ghush.

Since it was a skeleton, they needed blunt force. Her arrows and bolts would not be as effective as Pulvir’s shield bashing or Ghush’s bare fists.

Quince’s destructive magic would also work, but it was too much for just one foe.

"Ah..."

Suddenly, Aventine spoke again.

"Three Lesser Skeleton Warriors have reassembled themselves. They’ll be here shortly after the assassin."

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