My Perfect Isekai: Pragmatic Protagonist, Progression Fantasy and Strategy

The morning chill settled over the pines growing behind the manor in a thick, silvery dew. Fog drifted lazily just above the forest clearing, carrying a sharp, invigorating scent of resin, damp pine needles, and fresh mountain air from Crossgard.

Dave walked out onto the small, stone-paved yard holding a steaming clay mug in both hands. He wore simple, loose training pants and a plain black sleeveless shirt that allowed complete freedom of movement. He stood at the edge of the grass, taking a slow, calm sip of Mina’s herbal tea, surveying the clearing.

There, amid the morning sunbeams filtering through the treetops, Shnee and Karys were already warming up.

Shnee performed slow, precise vacuum thrusts, checking her joint mobility after the night. Karys, meanwhile, stretched on a fallen oak log with the flexibility of a wild predator — her gray wolf ears twitched at every whisper of the wind, her fluffy tail gently swaying to balance her body.

On the covered porch of the manor, the rest of the crew sat watching. Mina and Ria had spread out a basket of freshly baked rolls on a wooden bench, Elena happily sipped a hot infusion, Luthia reviewed account ledgers, and Kaede yawned stretchingly, leaning against the doorframe with an apple in her hand.

”Gather round, girls,” Dave spoke up, placing his flat mug on a clean, cut stump at the edge of the clearing. ”After a year in the dungeon and on my training grounds, we need to check how your habits have settled. Today we’re doing a full, all-day form review.”

Shnee instantly straightened her posture. A focused, professional spark flared in her gray eyes. Karys turned toward him, a excited smile spreading across her face.

”No magic and no KAI from my end to start with,” Dave added with a smile, flexing his fingers. ”Pure physicality and body mechanics. Shnee, we start with you.”

Shnee didn’t hesitate for a single second. Her right hand reached for the sheath at her waist, and with a soft, metallic hiss, she drew her transparent rapier of Celestial Silver. The blade seemed almost invisible in the morning light, and around its edges, frosty air instantly condensed, depositing microscopic frost onto the grass.

Dave assumed a light, asymmetrical stance — the traditional, pragmatic posture of street brawling. No flashy gestures, knees slightly bent, center of gravity kept low, open hands at chest level.

Shnee moved.

Her first step was noiseless. The rapier flashed through the air like a beam of light, aiming straight for Dave’s collarbone. The thrust was technically perfect, economical, and lightning-fast.

Dave didn’t step back an inch. He shifted his right foot a hand’s width sideways, executing a hard torso slip. His forearm collided with the flat of the rapier with a dull, meaty thud.

The pure, biological density of his muscles absorbed the momentum. Before Shnee could retract her weapon, Dave closed the distance, entering deep into her space and resting his left elbow against her shoulder.

”Too wide a step on the thrust, Shnee,” he said calmly, though their faces were mere inches apart. ”When aligning your torso, you expose your radius and lose support in your left heel. If I wanted to, I’d step into your balance and break the joint.”

Shnee didn’t even blink. Instead of retreating, she used the pressure of his elbow, spun on her heel, and smoothly delivered an upward slash, forcing him to lean his head back.

For the next twenty minutes, the forest clearing turned into a display of pure, engineering swordsmanship. Shnee attacked with incredible precision, unleashing cascades of thrusts, while Dave parried hard with forearms, elbows, and palms, standing almost stationary like a basalt block.

Every exchange ended with a brief, constructive correction. Shnee adjusted her movements live — tightening her thrusting angle, pulling her hip in, stabilizing her breath. From the side, it looked like a precisely choreographed dance between two veterans who understood each other without words.

”Enough,” Dave finally called out, catching the flat of the rapier with two fingers and stopping it dead in its tracks. ”Great frame control. It’s clear that clearing the 79th floor without my backing gave you a solid habit of conserving energy.”

Shnee stepped off the battleground, sheathed her weapon, and bowed her head with a subtle, satisfied smile.

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”My turn!” Karys stepped out to the center of the clearing step by step.

The Heretic wore no armor or sword. Her style was something entirely different — wild, animalistic, and predatory, resembling the relentless rush of a wild beast. She dropped her knees low, resting one hand on the grass. Her gray eyes narrowed into vertical slits, and her fluffy tail stood on end with excitement.

Dave smiled faintly and assumed his favorite analysis pose — hands crossed over his chest, standing completely relaxed.

Karys launched off the ground like a projectile. The earth beneath her feet exploded in tufts of grass.

She slammed into him with terrifying fury and insane speed, unleashing a cascade of lightning-fast strikes with her palms and elbows from unpredictable, broken angles.

And Dave... simply danced.

Ninety percent of the fight relied on dance-like, millimeter-precise dodges. Dave delivered no humiliating blows — no kicks to the backside or crude shoves. His footwork was pure motion engineering. With a light touch of his boot tip against the side of her thigh, he corrected her center of gravity, forcing her to regain balance.

Seeing that ordinary strikes weren’t landing, Karys deployed her Abyss Claws. Black, shimmering talons sprouted from her fingers, and her movements became even more aggressive.

Dave merely raised his left eyebrow.

When Karys’s fist zipped a millimeter from his nose, casting a shadow on his cheek, Dave tilted his head a fraction of a degree. Karys delivered a triple claw slash from above — Dave pulled his chest back by the thickness of a sheet of paper, letting the black blades slice through nothing but morning fog.

Karys caught a temporary mental lag. She looked utterly fascinated — there wasn’t a shred of anger or frustration on her face, only pure, child-like wonder at this chasm of power.

”Incredible speed, Karys,” Dave remarked, evading her next leap with a smooth heel pivot. ”But when twisting your torso, you lose support in your left knee. You’re trusting momentum too much.”

At one point, Karys delivered a heavy, finishing thrust with both clawed hands straight at his chest.

Dave didn’t back away. He executed an incredibly fluid, acrobatic bend in a bow-and-bridge motion. Karys hurtled right over his arched chest, her hands pushing off his back, before she did a bizarre, uncontrollable mid-air flip and landed with a loud thud on her back in the soft grass.

A sterile silence fell over the clearing. Karys lay on her back, staring up at the sky with wide eyes, panting heavily.

”Dave...” she panted at last, wiping her face with her forearm. ”You are fucking ridiculously good...”

Dave straightened up smoothly, stretching his spine, and chuckled softly:

”Thanks for... what I assume is a compliment, hehe.”

From the porch came the soft, light laughter of Shnee and Elena.

By noon, the sun had risen high, warming the clearing and dispersing the last remnants of morning fog.

”Alright, time for the final test,” Dave said, raising his arms and stretching thoroughly. ”Shnee, Karys — you go together. Two on one.”

Karys instantly scrambled off the grass, and Shnee drew her rapier, taking position on her left. Both girls exchanged a single, brief glance. They knew full well that individually they stood no chance of breaking his defense.

”To make things interesting... let’s add some acrobatic flexes,” Dave muttered with a smile.

He focused for a fraction of a second. He touched no magic weaves, nor did he push energy through his body. Instead, he pinched his Soul Source, activating Sapphire Yomi I.

A deep, sapphire glow flared in his eyes. Around his figure, delicate, trail-like afterimages of pure sapphire appeared — the soul-sonar began rendering the girls’ attack trajectories a fraction of a second before their muscles even initiated movement.

”Let’s go!” Shnee called out.

The synchronized attack of both girls was formidable. Shnee imposed a frosty, sterile pace from a distance, executing cascades of precise rapier thrusts, while Karys circled from the side, attacking low with her claws.

Dave entered full acrobatic dance mode.

With sapphire Yomi I running at full capacity, he saw every step ahead of time. He combined dance-like evading with soft flips, head tilts by millimeters, and hops over Shnee’s blade. The rapier and claws sliced through the air right against his shirt without even scratching the fabric.

It looked completely unreal — as if Dave were moving in a different time dimension, dancing amid a storm of steel and talons with absolute ease and enthusiasm.

Finally, Karys, slightly annoyed in a purely competitive, ambitious way at this complete invulnerability, rushed at him in a wild, desperate surge with both hands.

Dave smoothly ducked sideways with a smile. Seeing that Karys’s momentum was carrying her straight into Shnee, and her extended Abyss Claws could accidentally injure her partner, he released a microscopic, invisible wave of telekinesis from his left hand.

The impulse gently adjusted the trajectory of Karys’s forearms by a few centimeters in mid-air.

The effect was instantaneous and comical. Karys’s claws missed Shnee harmlessly, but the sheer momentum caused both girls to collide chest-to-chest and, with a loud squeak and a tumble, slam down together onto the soft grass, landing in a hilarious pile of arms, legs, and fluffy tail.

Dave stood over the duo lying on the grass, dusting off his hands, and smiled broadly.

”Now! That’s what I call a proper, good warmup!” he declared with enthusiasm. ”During this year in the dungeon, you’ve made massive progress. Synchronization still stumbles during drastic tempo shifts, but we’ll work on that.”

Shnee untangled herself from Karys’s tail, adjusting her ruffled hair, and bowed her head with a subtle, formatted smile. Karys, meanwhile, lay on her stomach like a rug, lazily waving her tail.

The sun slowly reddened over the treetops, signaling evening. Everyone returned to the manor, where a hot bath and a hearty, roast-scented dinner prepared by Mina awaited them.

As they sat at the oak table in the warm candlelight, sharing jokes and enjoying their meal, Dave set down his tea mug and looked around at everyone.

”Alright, team,” he began with an amused smile. ”Get a good rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, we gather and head to the center of Crossgard, straight to the Guild. Time to handle the paperwork and register in this city for the first time.”