Zombie Girls Revival System-Chapter 162: Oshan’s Request – “Let Me Guard What She Cherishes”.
Sid chuckled, savoring the unexpected difficulty skip.
"Maybe some zombie girls are different... or maybe," he added, his tone darkening slightly, "it’s because Evelise didn’t want to live at first."
Oshan, holding the precarious stack of dishes, froze completely. Her head slowly lifted, her oceanic eyes now filled with a deep, private sadness. She had always known her Lady carried a death wish, but seeing her now— engaged, focused, living... was a profound confirmation of Sid’s miracle. He had given her Lady a reason to want to survive.
Her dedication solidified into a focused, physical demand. She felt the need to prove the worth of the life she’d been given and to test the strength of the man who gifted it.
She faced Sid, holding the entire stack of utensils to her chest, her posture becoming that of a warrior delivering an ultimatum.
"Sir Sid."
Oshan declared, her voice firm and ringing with the conviction of a knight. "
You gave us our lives and our Lady’s will to live. I must ensure I am fit to protect her and you. Therefore," she paused, her eyes challenging him, "I request a spar!"
Sid stared at her, utterly taken aback.
"You want to... what?
A new side mission popped up in blinding white letters.
[SIDE MISSION ACQUIRED!]
[Oshan’s Request – "Let Me Guard What She Cherishes"] 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
[SYSTEM MESSAGE!]
[New Task Acquired!]
[Task 1: Spar With Me.]
[Objective: Spar with Oshan to help her regain her confidence as Evelise’s personal guard and protector.]
Sid stared at the floating text. "Oh damn... even the secondary characters are issuing demands now?" He let out a frustrated grunt. "I save the world, I navigate psycho sexual memory loops, and now I have mandatory gym time with the giant knight."
He looked at Oshan, who was still holding the dishes like a declaration of war. He tried the easy out.
Look, Oshan, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but my knee is still busted. You know that. I’m practically half crippled right now."
Oshan’s expression did not waver. Her eyes, those serious, beautiful oceanic hues, burned with a fierce, professional resolve.
"Sir Sid, I request this to sharpen my effectiveness," she said firmly, standing tall. "I must measure my current skill against the highest standard. You became my lady’s protector when I died... but now that I have returned, I must face that standard myself."
Her blue eyes steadied on him with unwavering resolve.
"And you, Sir Sid— are indeed the highest standard."
Sid sighed, recognizing that look. It was the face of duty, the same unwavering focus he had just seen in little Evelise’s training. There was no shaking her.
"Alright, alright, fine," Sid conceded, stepping back from the table. "I accept. But for the record, I’ve already beaten you once. Remember? Back when you were trying to kill me?"
Oshan’s massive shoulders remained straight. "That was death, Sir Sid. That was merely residual muscle memory and instinct devoid of conscious thought. That was not a spar. That was a chase."
"Right. And I won that chase, which means my consciousness beats your muscle memory," Sid quipped.
"A technical victory, yes," Oshan replied simply. "But now I have consciousness. I have resolve. It will be different."
"I know it will be."
Sid muttered under his breath, knowing the system would penalize him for ignoring a Side Mission.
"Can’t ignore the damn system mandate."
Oshan efficiently stacked the last plate. "Excellent. I will wash these quickly so we can spar without having house chores on our minds. Furthermore, the noise of a proper spar should keep us away from disturbing my Lady’s synthesis."
"Oh, now that is thinking."
Sid said, watching her head toward the sink. He couldn’t help but observe her movements. She moved the dishes quickly, but she was using far too much soap and the water was already running over the sink’s edge.
"She’s useful, but only barely," Sid concluded. "She knows how to do chores, but she’s not good at them. She’s literally perfectly fitted to be a Guard, and nothing else."
A new, opportunistic thought popped into his head. "Maybe... maybe I should go back to the Mayor’s mansion and revive a maid. Someone who knows how to handle a sink and a dust rag... and maybe who can cook."
Oshan finished the dishes in a flurry of soap and splashing, oblivious to Sid’s thoughts. She dried her hands on her trousers and gave a sharp, ready nod.
"The dishes are complete, Sir Sid. Let us proceed."
They moved outside to a small, open area behind the cabin where some scavenged laundry, Evelise’s mostly— was swaying gently on a makeshift line, enjoying the breeze. The space was firm, level ground, perfect for a confrontation. Sid stretched his arms, adopting his usual casual stance.
"Just so we’re clear, this is training, Oshan. I’m not here to hurt the big, sweet guard who makes terrible food. I’m here to show you how to guard."
Oshan shed her jacket, revealing the simple, practical clothing beneath. Her stance instantly shifted, becoming rigid and formidable— the stance of a trained, living weapon.
"Do not mistake my gratitude for weakness, Sir Sid," Oshan replied, her voice low and serious. "My pride as Lady Evelise’s personal guard is absolute. I was the one who failed her once, allowing her to be bitten. I will not fail her again. I need to know the extent of my own limitations, and the only person strong enough to show me that is the one who revived us."
She dropped into a low fighting crouch, her hands held open but ready. Sid felt the shift in atmosphere. She wasn’t playing. He dropped his humorous veneer, a matching seriousness creeping into his eyes.
"Alright, Oshan. Resolve confirmed. But don’t expect me to hold back," Sid warned, a competitive grin spreading across his face. "I’ve got a lot of pent up aggression from being violated in a memory, and you’re the only target around."
He cracked his knuckles. "Come on, Oshan. Show me why you’re worth more than ten armed zombies."
The tension between them was palpable, thicker than the basement smoke. Oshan stood in a perfect, stable fighting stance, a monument of focused power. Sid, despite his casual air, had already activated his inner combat awareness.
Instantly, his vision flickered with the ghostly overlay of the Combat Vision skill— glowing lines tracing Oshan’s pressure points, predicting her vector of attack, and highlighting the optimal path for a devastating counter strike.
Sid consciously suppressed the display, letting the lines fade.
"No, not this time. This one’s going to be on instinct."
He had witnessed the pain and dedication in her heart. Using the system’s absolute cheat code against her resolve felt cheap.
"This would be decided by raw instinct, the haphazard fitness I gained from my home workouts and my veteran gaming sense for distance and timing."
This spar wasn’t just about training; it was about Oshan proving that she, the loyal knight, was the proper protector— not some random man who had fallen into their lives.
"You’re awfully quiet, Oshan."
Sid taunted, circling slowly, keeping his weight slightly off his still tender knee.
"No grand speech about defending the honor of the rabbit lineage? Planning a surprise nap attack?"
Oshan’s eyes narrowed, following his every movement.
"A true guard allows her actions to speak, Sir Sid. Idle chatter is a distraction."
With a sudden burst of speed that shocked Sid, Oshan launched the first attack. She didn’t use the clumsy, armored swings of the zombie; she closed the distance in a lightning fast rush, throwing a straight jab aimed at his chest.
"She’s fast! Faster than I expected without the armor!"
Sid dipped back instantly, the air displaced by her fist grazing his nose. He saw the shift— her muscle memory was still there, brutally efficient, but now it was guided by a cold, calculating intelligence. She was predicting his movement, not just reacting to her programming... he thought.
"Nice try, River!" Sid yelled, already moving into a defensive side step. "But you’re too linear! Where’s the footwork? Are those expensive armored boots just for show?"
She ignored the taunt, immediately following the jab with a sweeping kick aimed low at Sid’s busted knee. Sid gasped and jerked his leg back, the pain shooting through the joint even from the sudden movement.
"She’s going straight for the weakness! No honor in the apocalypse!"
He pivoted off his good leg, momentarily exposing his back, then spun quickly, throwing a wild, looping roundhouse kick that was more desperate than accurate. Oshan didn’t bother blocking; she simply leaned back, ducking under the kick with effortless grace.
"You rely too much on acrobatics," Oshan observed, her voice flat. "Your core is exposed."
She immediately drove forward, attempting to pin Sid against the laundry line. Sid was forced to parry a flurry of rapid, powerful strikes, the sheer force rocking his arms.
Sid realized he couldn’t keep this pace. Her stamina was inexhaustible, and his knee was protesting every evasive maneuver.
