Transmigration: I Made A Deal With A Man in Yellow

My vision turned dark, and when it returned, I found myself standing in front of the two massive doors of the church again.

The moment I realized I was back, I stumbled away from the entrance. My stomach suddenly churned, and before I could stop myself, I bent forward and threw up on the ground.

"Ughhh..."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at the mess in disgust.

Even though my body had been completely restored, the memory of choking on my own blood was still fresh in my mind.

I took a deep breath.

Fresh air entered my lungs without any difficulty, filling them completely before I slowly exhaled in relief.

"Ahh... it’s so nice to be able to breathe again."

I never thought I would appreciate something as simple as breathing this much.

Now I truly understood how horrifying it was to suffocate to death. Unlike getting my head cut off, where everything ended almost instantly, suffocation was slow and agonizing. My body had known exactly what was happening the entire time, desperately begging for air while there was nothing I could do about it.

I touched my chest plate and pressed against the spot Sister Friede had punched me. The armor was completely repaired, and when I felt around my ribs, they were back to normal as well.

It almost reminded me of being trapped inside that narrow hole back at Abyss Mountain, struggling to breathe while everything around me tried to crush the life out of me.

Thankfully, [Calm Mind] was still active.

Without it, I wasn’t sure what kind of mental state I would be in after dying three times in such a short period.

Being decapitated, cursed, beaten half to death, and then suffocating on my own blood wasn’t exactly something a normal person could experience repeatedly without developing some serious problems.

[Calm Mind] kept those experiences from overwhelming me, which was probably why I could stand here and think normally despite everything that had happened.

Still...

I had failed again.

And the worst part was that I still hadn’t managed to properly injure Sister Friede.

"Goddamn it..." I muttered while staring at the church doors. "She’s way too strong."

A smile slowly appeared on my face.

And hell, I liked it.

Don’t misunderstand me.

I didn’t like pain.

Why the hell would anyone enjoy pain?

It hurt like hell, and I had experienced enough of it during these attempts to last me several lifetimes.

What I enjoyed was the fight itself.

Aside from the part where I kept getting killed, fighting Sister Friede was exciting.

It reminded me of when I fought the Fire Monkey, back when a single mistake could’ve gotten me killed. There was something about fighting someone stronger than me that forced every part of my body and mind to improve just to keep up.

And fighting with a scythe...

Man, scythes were cool.

The way Sister Friede wielded hers was mesmerizing. Every movement flowed naturally into the next, whether she was attacking, defending, or changing the direction of her blade halfway through a swing.

She made such an awkward-looking weapon seem as easy to use as moving her own arm.

It was almost like watching one of those ridiculously skilled anime characters fight.

I looked down at my hand and imagined the black scythe forming in my grip again.

I couldn’t wait until I reached that level.

But excitement aside, I couldn’t simply rush back inside and challenge her again.

I only had two attempts remaining.

If I wasted those and died again after that...

I would die for real.

That thought was enough to wipe the smile from my face.

"Alright. Let’s actually think about this properly."

Instead of entering the church again, I sat down on the ground outside and crossed my legs. I folded my arms over my chest and stared at the doors while replaying the previous fight in my head.

"The difference in skill between Sister Friede and me is too large. If I want any chance of reaching the altar, I need to find some way to reduce that gap."

Strength wasn’t the biggest problem.

Speed wasn’t either.

The real problem was experience.

Sister Friede had probably been wielding a scythe for longer than I could even imagine. Every movement she made had thousands upon thousands of repetitions behind it, while I had only recently started using the weapon.

Trying to suddenly become more skilled than her was completely out of the question.

But learning from her?

That wasn’t impossible.

With [Calm Mind], I could process information much faster than normal. If I paid close enough attention to her movements during our fights, I could memorize her techniques, understand how she handled the scythe, and slowly incorporate some of those movements into my own fighting style.

I didn’t need to become better than her.

That would be impossible with only two attempts left.

I only needed to become good enough to survive.

The problem was time.

How long would it take me to learn enough from her to make a difference?

More importantly, would Sister Friede continue waiting patiently inside the church while I sat out here thinking?

A sudden chill ran down my spine.

For some reason, I imagined the church doors slowly opening behind me, followed by Sister Friede silently stepping outside with her frost-covered scythe resting against her shoulder.

Then I imagined that same blade passing through my neck before I even realized she was there.

I instinctively touched my throat.

"That certainly wouldn’t be pleasant."

Maybe sitting directly outside the church wasn’t the smartest idea after all.

Hmm, let me just move farther away from the church for reassurance.

I moved away and stopped near the ashes of the knights that were still there.

Time here and in the real world flowed differently.

Years could pass here while only a few minutes passed outside.

Therefore, I didn’t need to worry about years passing in the real world while I trained.

So that was the plan.

"Phew... let’s start."

I took a deep breath and stretched out my hand.

Darkness gathered around my palm before extending outward, slowly taking the shape of a long black scythe.

With the weapon in my hands, I closed my eyes and began recalling my previous fights with Sister Friede.

Thanks to [Calm Mind], the memories were incredibly clear.

Every clash, every dodge, and every time her scythe had nearly taken my head off replayed inside my mind as though I were watching a recording.

I could slow down certain moments, focus on the smaller details I had missed during the actual fight, and compare her movements between each attempt.

I replayed those memories over and over again while moving my body along with them.

This wasn’t simply about copying her techniques.

Even if I perfectly memorized every movement she made, there was no way I could reproduce thousands of years of experience after practicing for a few hours.

What I needed was to understand why she moved the way she did.

If I could understand her techniques, I could find ways to dismantle them.

Swoosh!

My scythe cleaved through the air as I imitated one of her horizontal swings.

I immediately knew something was wrong with it, so I adjusted my grip and tried again.

Swoosh!

Better.

But still nowhere close to hers.

Whenever Sister Friede swung her scythe, there was almost no wasted movement.

Her attacks were swift, simple, and deadly.

She never swung the weapon farther than necessary, nor did she waste time recovering after an attack.

Almost every strike forced me to either defend or completely abandon whatever attack I had planned.

Her body also gave her an advantage.

Sister Friede was taller than me, and her arms were longer, giving her much greater reach.

Her scythe was also longer and heavier than mine, yet strangely, that didn’t seem to slow her down at all.

If anything, she used its weight to make her attacks even more dangerous.

I tried the swing again, this time allowing the weight of the scythe to carry more of the movement instead of relying entirely on my arms.

Swoosh!

The blade passed through the air much faster.

"Oh?"

I looked at the weapon before trying again.

So that was part of it.

She wasn’t fighting against the weight of her scythe.

She was using it.

Once the blade started moving, she allowed its momentum to carry through the rest of the attack while her hands controlled its direction.

That explained how she could transition from one swing into another without constantly stopping the weapon.

But her scythe wasn’t the most troublesome part of her fighting style.

It was her footwork.

I stopped swinging and replayed another part of our fight.

Sister Friede’s movements almost looked like a dance.

She rarely planted her entire foot against the ground unless she needed to stop herself or deliver a particularly powerful attack.

Most of the time, she moved lightly across the floor using the front of her feet, allowing her to shift her weight almost instantly.

That was why her movements had always looked so effortless.

I tried copying her.

I raised my heels slightly and moved forward, placing most of my weight toward the front of my feet.

The first few steps felt awkward, and I nearly lost my balance when I attempted to change direction too quickly.

"Damn, this is harder than it looks."

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