The Potential of Skills

I had been testing my techniques in the fields until dawn and was unable to suppress my excitement. My brain was likely flooded with a large amount of endorphins, so I didn’t feel any sleepiness.

Once I realized that I could freely use high-level techniques and secret arts, skills only masters could wield, I couldn’t stop myself from enjoying it.

At this point, it was hopeless; I wanted to use more techniques. I couldn’t resist the temptation. I chose a simple gathering request from the guild’s job board.

I asked the burly guild staff member to handle the paperwork and received the wooden tablet.

If I didn’t take the request and get the wooden tablet, I’d end up standing in a long line and be forced to pay the city tax. I accepted the gathering request for this reason.

Once the gathering was done, I wanted to test my techniques in an empty forest. In an almost skipping mood, I made my way to the woods.

To be able to practice my techniques without worry, I made sure to finish gathering first. The herb I was gathering, Narl grass, is used to make a healing potion. It was one of the typical herbs adventurers gather.

When I was traveling with the village girl to Rock Cliff, I used to be afraid of silence, so I talked to her nonstop.

During our conversations, she taught me about herbs.

The ingredients for healing potions, antidotes, and paralysis cures. She shared knowledge of useful herbs that grow wild in the Migan territory.

Normally, only apprentices are taught such knowledge…

Perhaps she was teaching me this so that I could handle myself when out in the field, to be prepared in case something happened.

If I could gather herbs, I could at least survive, and if I got injured or poisoned while out in the field, I’d be able to heal myself. It was her kindness.

My chest felt warm, and I winced at the slight pain. I’m so sentimental, I thought.

I lightly shook my head, brushing away the distraction. Once I entered the forest, it would be a monster’s domain. I’m not strong enough to afford distractions.

Narl grass grows near the water. There’s a risk of encountering monsters who come to drink, so gathering it is dangerous for regular people.

Herb gathering doesn’t usually involve fighting monsters, so it’s a common request for beginner adventurers who want to earn a living while getting used to the forest. It’s a typical beginner job.

However, sometimes powerful monsters from deeper in the forest come looking for water, and it’s possible to cross paths with them at the water’s edge.

Many beginners who ran into such misfortunes didn’t return.

The seemingly gentle request for beginners was, in reality, a life-threatening job.

I used the concealment technique and activated my perception skills to avoid monsters. I found a river and began heading upstream.

I continued upstream until I reached the middle of the vast forest. Few adventurers ever go this deep.

I discovered some Narl grass that had been picked clean in the shallower parts of the forest. To avoid depleting it, I decided to take only half.

I dug up the entire plant, roots and all. I wrapped the roots in a damp cloth to keep them from getting damaged and stored it carefully.

Once the gathering request was complete, I returned to the shallower part of the forest. I made sure there were no signs of other people around, then began my technique practice.

For some reason, my body moved smoothly. I had thought that the skill’s benefits would be minimal, but the effects of the skill were far more expansive, and I could do much more than I had realized.

Instead of relying entirely on the skill or letting the skill control me, I decided to surrender myself to it.

I closed my eyes and focused my awareness on my body and perception skills. With my eyes closed, I began performing karate forms.

I traced the movements I envisioned in my mind, using the skill to assist me. Closing my eyes sharpened my other senses.

The breeze brushing my cheek. The sensation of the earth under my feet. The smell of the forest mixed with the scent of animals. The faint sound of small creatures moving, just barely caught by my perception.

I activated my perception skill to its maximum while sharpening my other senses.

Using my perception, I could vaguely sense the outline of creatures in the area, filling in the details with my skin, nose, tongue, and ears.

As I felt my body’s movements, I adapted the form. The form was just a foundation. In reality, it had been created with multiple enemies in mind.

The opponent wouldn’t move exactly according to the form’s rules. I imagined real enemies in my head, adjusting my technique based on the type of attack they might make.

The form was only a form. If I focused too much on the “shape,” I would lose sight of the essence. A fight changes depending on the opponent. I had to factor that change into my forms.

My senses, honed through perception, and the forms combined into shadowboxing. My brain was overwhelmed with too much information.

Holding back the headache, I optimized my body for this situation and relied on the skill.

I was the one making the decisions, but I let the skill handle the complex movements.

How long had I been moving? Exhausted, I stopped and slowly opened my eyes.

My perception skill had changed.

I could vaguely sense the presence of a creature. What had once been a skill that only gave me a faint sense of presence now allowed me to discern outlines.

Using my other senses to gather information, I could now perceive the creature’s shape. The skill did this naturally.

By simply focusing on the skill, I could now understand not only the presence but also the outline of the creature.

I had learned to leave the overwhelming amount of environmental information to the skill, while the karate skill helped handle the complex body movements, reducing the strain on my brain.

While using perception to monitor the surrounding environment, I performed the complex body movements and was able to calmly assess the situation, thanks to the spare capacity in my mind.

My level had stagnated at 15. I had assumed that leveling up meant no growth, and I had blindly accepted that. I thought I had already maxed out any growth potential.

But now, I realized something. I could grow stronger without needing my level to increase.

I was shaking with joy.

Adrenaline and endorphins were surely coursing through my body.

Then it hit me: why I had loved karate in the first place.

The joy of being able to do things I couldn’t do before, the feeling of getting stronger. That was what I had loved. I adored it.

For the first time, I was grateful for coming to this other world.

It was thanks to the skill, and some might call it the “wrong way,” but I was okay with that.

Just like when I first started learning karate, I was enjoying it more than ever.

Thank you, God, for bringing me to this world. Thank you, God, for creating the karate skill.

Thank you, God. I will live my life with strength.