I sat in a comfy chair gazing out the window of my room, open book half-forgotten in my hands. I had spoken with Tear for hours, describing my former world and life, both the wondrous things built with advanced technology and the dangers inextricably linked with it, and the efforts underway to repair the damage done to the Earth. I spoke of my family, my parents, younger brother, elder sister, unwinding in a way I’d never really been able to with a therapist. I spoke of my excitement to explore this new world, but also of my desire to build a new home, somewhere I could belong to and make a difference simply wasn’t able to in my previous life. She then proceeded to do the verbal equivalent of smacking me round the head with one uncharacteristically open but characteristically blunt sentence: “You’ve already started making a difference in this life, you saved my life.”

With that, Tear began telling me her story. Her father had died in a monster attack on a trade caravan he’d been working with, and her mother had abandoned her on the streets of Durell when she was 11 years old. From then she’d scraped by, eating what she could gather from the fields and forest surrounding the city, sneaking past the guards through a long forgotten smugglers tunnel, and from alms given by nobles and the Church, never begging or stealing. She was very insistent on that.

She also recounted the events leading to our meeting. Illegal slavers had entered the city through the same tunnel Tear used to collect food from outside the city, and were hunting down street urchins to sell. Being a young beastkin girl, Tear was prime target material. Her friends, she’d spat the word with enough venom to kill a small village, had sold her out, leading a mask-wearing slaver to where she’d been sleeping. He’d nearly caught her, but she’d slipped away into the alleyways where she’d been constantly running from him and his group for a week, with barely any food, water, or sleep when she saw me. She’d realised she was cornered at that point, and decided the only way she was going to stay free was to take them down first, which led to her surprise stabbing attempt of the first person with a mask she came across, which happened to be me.

She didn’t say it, what I read between the lines was that she thought no-one in a position of authority would have helped her. To them, she was just a street urchin, a nuisance, thief, eyesore, why not let the slavers have her? I got the feeling Captain Illupay would have helped her, as would that sergeant I talked to, but Tear didn’t know that. This pissed me off, as did the whole slavery thing, and I quietly resolved to deal with it at some point.

But what I was considering now was what Tear had said next. It was surprising to hear the normally reticent catgirl admit to having felt useless and helpless when we were attacked by the Wind Wolves.

She’d then met my eyes and made a request. “Please make me strong!” she’d said, eyes burning with determination.

There was only one way I could answer that, and that was with. “I’ll try.” The problem was that I had no idea how I’d even begin going about making her stronger. I had told her just that, asking her to give me some time to think about it, which led me here.

The main problem was that I had the ability to make her very powerful very quickly, but, well, I was too strong. Or rather, I had too much raw power. I had tried to imitate the skilful lifeforce boosting the adventurers had used when running from the Wind Wolves and simply kicked a hole through the tree I was stepping off. The only way I’d found to reduce my lifeforce to a manageable level was the countercurrent, and that greatly restricted my ability to manipulate it. I also didn’t want Tear to try and use that technique in case it went wrong; I wouldn’t want to inflict that on someone I viewed as family. No, it would be much better for her to start at the basics and work her way up.

Issue with that though: I didn’t know anything beyond the very very basics. And that was only of lifeforce, I had no idea what to do with mana other than shoving it into an item and letting it produce an effect. I was a noob. Supreme scrublord, you might say.

What I did know was how to fight. Martial arts and sword skills from Earth, combined with the knowledge of weapon usage granted by the Title ‘Gift of the God of Reincarnation #672,218,566,098’, meant I was capable in practically every type of weapon.

While I had been contemplating, Tear had entered my floor and crossed to stand in front of me.

“So,” she said, “what’s your answer?”

I shifted my gaze from the rain outside to her meet her determined eyes.

“I won’t accelerate your life and mana pool growth using items, which is what I effectively did because I don’t know whether it would have side effects, but I can certainly teach you what I know about fighting.” I stood, closing my book and placing it on a nearby table. “Go get changed into your exercise gear and meet me on the gym floor.”

I pretended to ignore the elated relief on her face as she immediately headed for the stairs.

Tear appeared at the entrance of the gym floor, quickly crossing it to reach me where I was standing in front of a rack of wooden swords. On top of her normal exercise clothes: a narrow form-fitting tube top, tight unrestrictive shorts, and gladiator style sandals with leather straps that wrapped several inches up her legs, she was wearing arm and leg guards and a belt around waist with her knife sheathed on it. I had had no idea that she owned them.

“Are we using these?” Tear asked, indicating the swords.

“Yes.” The largest group of my weapons were swords, and I’d known how to use one from Earth, so I had the deepest understanding of their use, which is why I’d decided to teach Tear to use a sword first. “But you’re going to have to warm up first.”

I gestured her over to the area of floor covered with padded mats and had her perform a series of stretches and light exercises, which I also did.

I then led her back over to the swords and had her pick up one after another and wave them, discarding those of an awkward length for the somewhat diminutive teenager. I’d teach her how to use inconvenient sized weapons at another time, but for learning the basics it was better to use a weapon that felt comfortable.

For almost an hour afterward, I drilled the basics of swordplay into Tear. I wasn’t teaching in any particular style, merely having her swing the sword a bit and adjusting her hands, feet, and posture until they were correct. After that I had her attack me. This presented a whole new host of faults; for each of which I pointed out and demonstrated the correct form.

Eventually Tear flopped over onto the closest padded mat, panting and drenched in sweat. I handed her a cool glass of water.

“You definitely need practice, but not bad for just starting out. Especially so with me as the person you’re learning from. Good job.”

“Thanks,” Tear gasped, accepting the glass of water and taking a deep gulp. “So does this training replace my,” she shuddered and continued disdainfully, “BACON?”

I shook my head. “No, you still need to become physically stronger, your muscles are still underdeveloped. Hmmm… let’s call this ‘Better At Combat With Knives’.” Tear groaned, clearly suspecting where this was going. “And BACWN for short! Huh, it’s said the same. What a coincidence!” I declared brightly.

Tear groaned again and glared at me. “I swear, one day I'm going to murder you.” She sounded more serious than she ought to.

“What're you going to do, stab me?” I teased her. She let out the most despairing groan yet.

“You're never going to let that go are you?” She complained.

“Nope! How could I not treasure my first meeting with my dear little sis?” I sighed wistfully and clasped my hands together, closing my eyes. “How fast they grow up; it feels like only yesterday you were doing acronym, and now you're doing acronym.” I sighed wistfully again and pretend to wipe away a tear.

“...I need to think of a more painful way to kill you.”

“What? Stabbing too good for me now?”

“AAAAUUGH!!”