CHAPTER 38: CH:38 DELICATE FLOWER VS. TRAINING DUMMY

Dila glanced back at the clashing swords on the training grounds, her blue eyes glinting with mischief.

"You know what...?" she said, tilting her head toward Stella.

"Maybe I should try holding a sword for once. Not just in games."

Stella blinked, confused.

"Games...? What do you mean by games?"

Dila flinched, realizing her slip.

She waved a hand nonchalantly.

"Oh—nothing, nothing. I mean, like... just testing what it feels like. Y’know, for educational purposes."

Stella narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.

Then she gasped dramatically and pointed at Dila.

"No! Dila, you’ll break your arms and snap your wrists!"

She stomped over, poking Dila in the arm.

"Look at you! You’re soft like a premium marshmallow. You’re not built for this. You’re royalty. A delicate flower!"

"Princess, Sister Stella is right..." the maid chimed in nervously from the side, clutching the juice tray like it was a sacred relic.

"You mustn’t do something reckless! What if you get hurt? It’ll be a disaster!"

But Dila turned back toward the knights, casually while crunching another peanut.

She grinned.

"Nahh~ I’d live. I won’t die that easily."

She took a long sip of juice and chuckled like someone who was definitely going to do something dumb and dramatic anyway.

Stella facepalmed.

"This is how tragedies start..."

The maid nodded in terrified agreement.

As Dila stood up, brushing imaginary dust off her royal gown, she fixed her straw hat like a determined farmer about to harvest chaos.

She pointed toward the training field.

"I’m doing it. I’m going to hold a sword."

"NOOOOO!!"

Stella suddenly dropped to her knees like a tragic heroine in an opera.

"Please, Dila, I’m begging you!! Stop this madness!"

The guards blinked. The maid dropped the peanut tray.

"You’ll die! Do you hear me? DIE!!" Stella wailed, reaching out as if Dila were marching into a battlefield with zero plot armor.

Dila paused only to look over her shoulder with a bored, unbothered gaze.

"I’ll be fine. I’ll just drink juice every day."

"JUICE CAN’T BLOCK A BLADE!!" Stella shrieked, flailing both arms like a drowning goose.

But Dila ignored her and kept walking, her gown dramatically flapping in the breeze like a hero about to slay a dragon—except the dragon was a blunt training sword, and she’d never touched one in her life.

"You’re not a fighter!" Stella cried.

"You’re squishy! You’re precious! You bruise from mosquitoes!"

Dila raised a hand and waved dismissively.

"I’m durable. Probably."

The maid, now hyperventilating, whispered,

"This is how royals get legendary death ballads written about them..."

As Dila stepped foot on the training ground, a knight turned to hand her a wooden sword.

Stella grabbed a random training dummy and hugged it tightly.

"It’s too soon to lose her..."some knights muttered.

As Dila gripped the wooden training sword with both hands, her arms trembled like twigs in a windstorm.

She took one determined step forward toward the training dummy... and nearly tripped on her gown.

Across the field, the knights all paused mid-swing.

Clang.

Clink.

Silence.

One of them whispered, "Why did you give her the sword?"

The knight who had handed it over looked haunted.

"I... I don’t know... My hand just moved on its own."

"Stupid!" hissed another. "She’s a fragile noble That’s like handing a Rock’s to a Flower!"

Dila raised the sword in front of her, squinting one eye like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

"Alright... and... now I... slice?"

She swung—

Fwip.

It was the gentlest tap ever delivered to a dummy. It looked more like she was brushing lint off its shoulder.

Suddenly, ☆ Nari’s delicate voice chimed in urgently ☆

☆ Warning! Warning! Your class is not suitable for close-quarter combat. Sword proficiency = potato. Risk of injury: 94%. Risk of embarrassment: 300%. ☆

Dila replied without flinching, "Nah. I will prevail."

But her arms were visibly shaking, the wooden blade wobbling like a loose antenna on a windy rooftop.

From the sidelines, the knights were breaking.

One knight bit his glove to stop himself from laughing.

Another had turned around completely, shoulders bouncing from silent chuckles.

One was on the verge of tears, muttering, "This... is the greatest show I’ve ever seen..."

Dila narrowed her eyes.

She could hear them.

And now she was irritated.

"Oi, I can hear you giggling over there!" she snapped, the sword tilting like it was about to fall from her hands.

The knights straightened in mock seriousness, clearing throats and nodding solemnly.

"Yes, Princess."

"Sorry, Princess."

"Continue the opera, I mean—training, Princess."

The training dummy remained untouched.

Not because it was unscathed, but because even it felt bad for her.

While Dila still stood tall—well, as tall as one could while slightly hunched under the weight of a wooden training sword.

"Hayaaa! Haaa!" she shouted, swinging the sword like she was in a dramatic anime battle.

Nothing happened.

The dummy didn’t even flinch.

Meanwhile, sweat was raining down her forehead like she was in a desert boss fight.

Dila puffed out her cheeks.

"How come... I can lift my metal magical staff just fine—but this wooden stick feels like a two-ton greatsword??"

☆ Nari answered casually in her usual frail, bubbly tone ☆

☆ Yes, that’s the actual weight of the training sword, Master. ☆

Dila blinked.

"Okay but explain. My metal staff is literally shinier, bigger, and has glowy floating parts—yet it feels like a breadstick. And this sword is... betrayal in physical form."

☆ That’s because your class is 100% magically compatible with your staff. ☆

☆ It’s enchanted to feel lighter, like your soul’s soulmate. ☆

☆ Meanwhile, the sword? Nope. That’s just pure pain and wood. ☆

Dila pouted, wobbling with the sword.

"Still... why do I feel weaker than when I was just sitting in my gamer chair on Earth? I could fight off a boss with one hand while eating chips with the other!"

☆Lol eating chips☆

☆ That’s because... you’re a girl now. ☆

Dila said in her mind. " I don’t think being a girl will make me weak? " She pout again.

☆ Also, you skipped training and stat building. ☆

☆ Your body’s basically a princess on easy mode with no melee points. ☆

Dila froze mid-swing.

"Wait wait wait—what did you say?"

☆ Also your pout is super cute right now. ☆

"UMHHHHH!!"

Dila growled through her teeth, cheeks red as tomatoes, still trying to swing the sword like a warrior.

The result? A slow, awkward diagonal flop that made the training dummy feel awkward for even existing.

And then—

☆ Hehehee... you should really see your face right now. Like a cat being forced to swim. ☆

Dila groaned, dropping the sword like it personally betrayed her.

"Stupid gravity..."

With a determined breath, Dila picked up the wooden sword again.

"Haa—HYAA!"

She swung with everything she had—only to trip over her own foot like an amateur stage actor.

"Wahh—!"

Thump.

She face-planted right into the training ground dirt, limbs sprawled, her sword flying a solid three feet away like it wanted nothing to do with her.

"Owww..." she whimpered, blinking up at the sky with teary eyes and dust in her eyelashes.

☆ Are you okay, Master? ☆ Nari’s frail voice rang with concern. ☆ That looked... painful. ☆

Around her, knights began panicking like they’d just witnessed a national emergency.

"Princess!" one shouted.

The knight angrily shouted to his other knight."I told you!! its not a good idea to let her hold a wooden sword?!"

"As i said!! —I don’t know! My hands moved on their own to hand it to her !"

"Idiot! That’s the Princess, not a tavern brawler!"

Stella’s eyes widened in horror, and the maid gasped so loud you’d think someone dropped royal tea.

Then—

A booming voice echoed from the training yard steps:

"You lazy fools! PICK UP THE LADY!"

And from a distance came the sound of polished boots approaching.

Sarios.

He stepped into the scene like a knight from a drama stage, cape fluttering unnecessarily in the wind.

"I’ll take care of her," he said coolly.

With ease, he scooped Dila up from the dirt. She immediately puffed out her cheeks, blushing like a sunburnt peach.

"Put me down! I still want to train! More! More!" she flailed weakly in his arms like a soggy kitten.

Sarios gave her a flat stare. "Seriously, no. You’re banned from touching sticks for a week."

Stella ran over, huffing. "What did I tell you?! You were going to get hurt!"

Dila, too embarrassed to look anyone in the face, turned her head away and muttered like a grumpy child.

"I chose to train, okay? Nobody forced me."

Sarios sighed and carried her back to the bench chair like a responsible babysitter.

He set her down gently, where she crossed her arms and glared dramatically at the clouds.

"Why did you let her into the training grounds?" he asked Stella in a stern tone.

Stella bit her lip. "She was so determined... I couldn’t stop her."

"Hmph. I’m still mad." Dila huffed without looking at either of them.

Sarios rubbed his temples. "Alright... but please, just no more warrior princess nonsense."

"Also—stop calling me Princess, Hero." she snapped back.

He sighed. "Sorry. Just... respecting your status."

"Whatever..."

Stella knelt beside her, inspecting her knees—and gasped softly.

She gently lifted Dila’s leg. "You bruised yourself!"

With a glowing hand and a worried frown, she cast a healing spell.

The bruise faded in a shimmer of light, but Dila still looked away, arms crossed, lips pouty.

☆ Master... next time, try not to swing the sword like it owes you money. ☆

Dila grumbled, cheeks still red.

"Please Shut up, Nari..."