My Parasite Skill System

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Skills.

They proved useful.

And they will continue to prove useful in the future.

Without skills, well, I wasn't so sure I could fight or not.

I needed them to fight.

Thus would a large quantity of skill lead me to victory.

That's what I figured. And by myself, you know. I've figured it all out by myself. Old Sipping didn't clue me in as he always did. No, no. He didn't do that.

I'm very strong … and as such, it only is natural for me to come up with such brilliant ideas.

Wait, can it only be called brilliant, though? Isn't it just as obvious as day? Ahem.

And … okay, Old Sipping did remind me of this obvious idea.

And so, the assessment of myself needed to be done!

Yes, he did that. It'd make a side note in itself, I believe, by the way. Old Sipping sure proved useful as a partner--as my partner.

But that addressing that would be off-topic.

--Skills, they prove useful.

And knowing my skills was just one natural thing to do.

Otherwise, I mean, what's the point in even having them at the ready?

I need to get to know them--and myself, by the same occasion--better.

I'm a fighter, after all, right?

And all of this we're talking about ... all of this I'm saying?

Well, I did take care of this all, already.

… I think I did.

The assessment was done. Just needed to know whether Old's got what he wanted too, now.

Getting down to doing this, I moved.

Looking down at the reddish huge beast before myself, "heh," I only chuckled without even knowing why.

Lying on one of his flank to the side, he let the opposite and stabbed one exposed for me to see.

His legs were folded as he died on his knees, one on top of the other, half-covered by his ragged black pants...

That didn't even look like suitable equipment for a fighter at a first glance, but well, though being curious about why he was only being barely equipped like this--I said nothing.

Looking around, I saw the two other human's dead lying bodies.

These ones were properly equipped, but they'd died too, in the end.

One was decapitated neatly, while the other hadn't quite so been neatly dealt with at all.

With one head missing to one and one shoulder busted to the other, they just about lied down too.

And it'd count for three foes dealt with.

❮3/30❯

"Good."

And simply stepping over the decapitated one's legs and waist, I stepped away from this place.

The battlefield was laid behind my back, with all its noises and accommodations.

And facing myself, on the other hand, Foret's forest.

It was far away from me. Further away than the battlefield's action.

And the frontier in between Very Many Grasses' field and Foret's forest was neatly cut.

From the stuffed and packed woodland, you'd abruptly go to a clean and monotonous grassland.

With the wind brushing my hair and neck, I was resting up the prairie, at an elevated position.

And squinting my eyes in the distance … "Ah!--there goes the old man."

About a good hundred and a half meters away right ahead of me were lined up hundreds or even thousands of trees.

All of them were establishing the frontier in between the field I was in as we speak, and the forest I faced, trying to spot someone.

A very green row of high and long trees was established as they were all lined up next to one another.

Going from one point of the horizon to an opposite point, it didn't stop till my eyes couldn't see it anymore.

The forest really was ridiculously wide and broad.

But anyway, the important stuff--the woods:

Among all these woods, there was one that stood out and caught my eye.

This was one particular tree I saw among them all.

One very, very particular tree.

Its color? Just about the same as the others'.

Its height? Well, just about the same as the others', too.

Maybe the difference lied in its branches, then?

Hmm. While its branches indeed were just about the same as the others', it is true that you could note a difference going down there.

Upon one of the many branches the tree was giving about, you could see an old man.

His feet rested on one solid branch he'd climbed on while one of his hands was up against the main trunk of the tree going up.

He, standing up there, slightly leaned upon the tree and looked over to me too, it seemed.

"There he is, but ... hm … is he looking at me, though?"

He must've been peering over to my side.

My eyes still squinting as I hardly looked at him, I took a few steps forward, maybe this would help.

And then, to make sure he was, I started to frantically wave at him, "Old Sipping!!!" I added, shouting.

This old man … he's the one who proposed and told me to do what I've been doing right now.

Me, assessing myself and learning more about the practical uses of the skill I got on hand--it didn't just come out of nowhere.

Old Sipping was supposed to be my partner, it seemed to both him and the guide.

And so, he just acted like one.

A partner that'd help me guide myself through the ways of my early world.

This partner--and more of a mentor, actually--of mine, he had talked me into adventuring, few days ago, back in the forest.

It was fun to do, he said!

So I followed.

And as such, there were many things to do, right?

Many, many things.

As a first step, among other things, he wanted to assess my skills.

To see 'whether I'm good or not,' he'd exactly said.

Well, and it was all a matter of going out on adventures with him, right? And though I didn't know much about adventuring, I knew we'd be doing that together, somehow.

And so, when he insisted, I understood he must've just wanted to see whether I was skillful and powerful enough to do that.

I just needed his validation ... I think.

Well … let's just say this ancient human's motives still are what they are.

And I was no dead weight--I was confident in that.

And so, I agreed to that.

Moving onto right now: my hand still waving all the more frantically to him trying to make him notice me … after a short while, he just waved back at me.

His hand was calm as both his demeanor and the vibes he gave were.

He only did that … he only waved at me.

And his free hand just went back to stroking, along with his thin mustache, gray smooth beard that was the same color of his hair.

He often did that, this old human.

I noticed that, without a cup of tea nearby his hands, he almost always did that repeatedly.

Kind of fun to watch--though I could barely see it from where I stood.

I could only tell because I knew he'd most likely be doing that, right.

From the long-distance, I had spotted him rather easily thanks to his large and white tunic.

Gracefully standing up the old human's rather thin shoulders, going down on both arms and flanks still leaving enough room and allowing large movements for him to do, it really was large and kind of bright.

And his faint silhouette, far from my eye to see, didn't seem to be moving to either side: he still looked at me … I think.

He's the one who proposed to assess me, anyway--of course he watches and keeps an eye on me.

It should go without saying.

I waved back again at him, but this time, extended my arm up in the air, indicating to him to just … I don't know--but I wanted to talk: and so I just did that.

Extending my hand and holding it out in the air, I grabbed his attention.

And then, well, I just yelled.

Yelled and yelled and yelled, at the top of my lungs.

Inhaling the best I could in between each word:

"Youuuuu

"Sawww

"Meee???"

I made sure he'd heard me distinctly--I continued:

"Annnnnd

Whereeeeeee

"Isssss

"Leafanaaaa

"Atttt???"

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