SSS Ranked Merchant: Rebuilding a Broken Kingdom With Unlimited Wealth-Chapter 23: She Needs To Get Stronger

If there was one thing Lyrasia regretted in her previous life, it was that she was weak. Not just physically—no, she had long accepted that her noodle arms were purely decorative—but in every other way that mattered.

She was a genius, yes. A prodigy of strategy, intellect, and clever loopholes. But geniuses often lacked one crucial skill.

Social tact.

She was, for lack of a better term, autistic as hell.

How could she not be? She had grown up glued to a screen, her fingers dancing across keyboards instead of shaking hands.

Her idea of human interaction was trading sarcastic insults in online forums.

The closest thing she had to small talk was typing "GG" at the end of a match. And even that felt like a chore.

Was it any surprise that she turned out this way?

Being an introvert wasn't inherently bad, she supposed.

It spared her from the exhausting politics of social life. It meant she never had to force herself into pointless gatherings or suffer through mind-numbing small talk.

But it also meant she never really... cared much about people. Not in the way they wanted her to.

Sure, she tried to act normal. She mimicked the right words, forced the right smiles, nodded in the right places. But it always felt hollow.

And when the world crumbled around her?

Her smarts weren't enough.

Her strategies couldn't save her.

Because intelligence alone didn't make someone strong. And no amount of quick thinking could change the fact that, in the end, she had been powerless.

Never again.

This time, she would make sure of it.

"I want you to train me. Properly."

Silence.

Then—laughter.

Actual, wheezing laughter.

"Pfft—AHAHAHA!" Usario nearly choked on his drink. He slammed the cup on the table, shaking his head. "You? Train? As in, actual, real training? Girl, you're barely out of the cradle!"

"That's exactly why I need training. I'm weak."

"You're a child, Lyrasia. You should be playing, laughing, enjoying life—"

She cut him off. "When have I ever enjoyed life?"

The room fell silent.

"I've spent every moment fearing it'll all be destroyed," she whispered, fists trembling. "That one day, everything I have will be taken away. I can't afford to be weak, because weak people die."

Ruan and Meila shifted awkwardly behind her, clearly feeling like they had walked into a family argument that wasn't theirs.

Usario studied her. His usual grumpy expression softened ever so slightly. "...Is that why you're so desperate? Fear?"

Yes.

She didn't want to be a hero. She didn't want to save the world. She didn't even care about people in general.

She was selfish.

She only wanted to preserve herself.

And "herself" also meant her family.

"Fine... Do you even have a class?"

"Blademancer."

"Well, I'm not really well-versed in it, but I do know the basics. I am a scholar, afterall."

Behind his house, a simple field with patches of dirt and grass, a few battered training dummies, and a single wooden rack lined with well-worn blades. Birds chirped in the trees, blissfully unaware of the absolute hell that was about to unfold for her.

"Alright, child. You wanna learn Blademancing? Fine. But I will not start by teaching you fancy fire strikes or ice-infused slashes. You're not ready for that. First, we have to make sure you can actually swing a sword without embarrassing yourself."

"I can swing a sword."

"Oh? Prove it."

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He tossed her a wooden practice sword. She caught it, barely. The weight threw her off, her grip was unsteady, and the moment she tried to lift it into position, she nearly smacked herself in the face.

Ruan and Meila were sitting off to the side, pretending not to watch, but Lyrasia felt their silent judgment.

"Give me a real sword, and I'll show you!"

"A real sword would snap your twig arms in half," He snatched the practice sword from her and positioned her hands correctly on the grip. "You hold it like this. Firm, but not stiff. You don't strangle the sword—you guide it." He moved her arms slightly, adjusting her stance. "Your legs—wider. No, wider than that. If you stand too narrow, you'll get knocked over in an instant."

Lyrasia followed his instructions, shifting her footing. She felt ridiculous, but somehow... more stable.

"Good. Now, swing."

She obeyed, slashing downward.

Fwip.

It was weak. Pathetic, even.

"Did you just tickle the air?"

Lyrasia gritted her teeth and swung harder.

Whoosh!

Better. Still bad, but better.

"Hah! That almost looked like an actual sword swing!" Usario barked a laugh. "Keep going! Until I say stop!"

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[STRENGTH GAINED: +1 for every swinging of the sword]

[You Have Gained +2 Strength]

'Oh?'

And so she did. Over and over. Her muscles screamed in protest, sweat dripped down her back, and her arms burned as she swung again and again. Time blurred into exhaustion, and her breath came in short gasps.

[You Have Gained +10 Strength]

'Only ten? That felt like a chore already...'