In a distant ancient era, an extremely advanced magitek civilization once thrived—where both magic and martial arts reached their pinnacle. Though later destroyed by internal strife, it left behind ruins like the Ancient Wizard Towers and Armories, becoming invaluable treasure troves for future generations.

Even among ancient artifacts, the "Perfect Tactical Advisor System" stood at the apex. A magitek-engineered AI, it possessed absolute rationality, flawless tactical planning, and vast archives of lost relics and their locations. Truly the ultimate cheat: follow its guidance, and all other advantages would inevitably fall into your grasp.

Yet its new owner, Mylora, started from rock bottom.

Like the original protagonist, she came from humble origins with mediocre talent—minimal sword foundation, little magical aptitude, not even starting funds… Thus, she and the system agreed: before obtaining the first cheat capable of qualitative change, she must endure, solidify her base, learn essentials early, and strike brilliantly later.

Following this strategy, the moment Mylora found the system, it taught her an ancient martial art: Tatania Flow Swordsmanship. A long-lost, formidable school. Unpredictable forms paired with potent magical discharge could multiply physical and magical damage. Mastery meant effortlessly defeating higher-tier foes—cutting down any obstacle, overwhelmingly dominant!

…But to unleash its true power demanded exceptional physique and magical reserves.

Otherwise, it was just a bizarre, nonsensical set of moves.

For instance:

"Hah!"

Mylora lunged at the Mold-Spot Ape in a slightly comical stance, swinging her one-handed sword at its neck from an awkward angle. Speed and force felt oddly off—the ape dodged effortlessly.

"Kee-kee-kee!"

Screeching, the ape hefted a stone. Mylora reversed her grip at a strange angle, trying to deflect the boulder—apparently to ricochet it back. Failed. Her wrist swelled from the impact.

She circled the weak little monster back and forth. Sweat beaded on her brow as steel clanged against crude stone knife… Finally, she seized an opening, pinned the ape down, and slit its throat.

"Huff… huff… huff…"

Just a minor monster—but she felt like she’d survived a grueling war.

Teammates exchanged glances. Ji Xue looked away awkwardly; others practically wore "You’re so slow" on their faces. Mylora squirmed under their stares, feeling like a monkey performing under circus lights.

"Your swordsmanship is terrible," Annawiel stated bluntly.

"…None of your business."

"Just stating facts. You can’t even handle a sword. What *is* that technique? A roadside beginner class would outclass it."

"…"

Mylora wanted to retort—but couldn’t reveal the truth. Silence was her only shield.

Tatania Flow required robust physique and abundant magic. Right now? She was like a toddler lugging a greatsword—no strength to swing it. The weapon became dead weight.

【Endure, Milora Sistem. This technique is for the future. Ignore their opinions.】 The system spoke within her mind.

(I know… I have patience. Once we unlock the Sedron Wizard Tower and enhance my body and magic, this style will fit me perfectly.)

【Exactly. Maintain your pace.】

(I’d do that anyway.)

【Don’t be fooled by Torina Dewell’s sweet words. Unsolicited kindness hides ill intent.】

(But… aside from my body, what could she want? Could she really be… after *that*?)

【Perhaps she sees your potential. To avoid a rival, she uses flattery to dull your drive.】

(Really!? Now that you say it…)

【Trust only me. I am your sole companion. I will show you the shortcut to strength.】

(Mm…)

Mylora’s heart twisted.

Torina watched silently from the side.

(As expected… she’s troubled by the system.)

In the original story, the system was guide, database, *and* paranoid strategist—urging constant vigilance. One percent suspicion? One hundred percent countermeasure.

Readable from the protagonist’s view. But from outside…

(It’s basically a control-freak with trust issues…)

…

…

Deeper they pressed. Monsters grew stronger. Swarms of Leech-Men emerged. Lachesis and Annawiel scattered them with area attacks; others finished them off.

Mylora focused hard against one Leech-Man. Its body felt like cotton under blade—but claws on limbs were razor-sharp. Ugly, almost comical, yet deceptively tough. With unfinished swordsmanship, she struggled again.

But this time—

"Strike from the side."

"!"

A hand steadied her sword—Torina’s. A sharp swing slashed the creature’s vulnerable abdomen. It screeched and recoiled.

"Are you alright, Mylora-chan?" Torina asked gently.

"Uh… fine. But I don’t need help…" Mylora’s face tightened.

"Fighting like this wastes energy. Let me show you."

No runes. Pure swordsmanship. In three swift moves, she severed the Leech-Man’s limb joints—fluid, powerful, elegant.

"Disable limbs, it falls. Ah—stab *here* to pierce the heart."

A final thrust. The creature twitched and stilled.

Mylora stared, reluctantly impressed. Captain Torina might be that silver-haired, aggressively forward party maniac with a phonebook full of contacts—but her swordplay? Undeniably exquisite.

Another Leech-Man lunged.

"Try it. Hold the sword like this. Dodge—then thrust its shoulder."

"Uh…"

"Quick!"

Seconds left. Tatania Flow would parry → discharge magic → stun → finish. But Mylora’s stats? All form, no force. Torina’s way—

"…Hah!"

Dodge → seize opening → strike weak point → weaken. The wounded Leech-Man slowed instantly.

"See? You *can* do it!"

Torina praised while driving her blade into its heart.

"Uh… th-thank you…?"

Mylora flinched, reflexively grateful—

【What are you doing, Mylora?! I gave you the supreme technique—why use her provincial swordsmanship?!】

(Eh? Ehh…?)

"Stop that clumsy style. Let me teach you mine—step by step. Guaranteed mastery."

"Eh?! Ehh… Ehhh…!"