Chương 38: Training With Father

"This piece of candy is five coppers. Not one less," my father said. He was right; they were pretty valuable. But that was wrong. I had to focus.

"Four," I said through gritted teeth as contradictory thoughts rampaged through my head.

"Four," he replied, and the pressure disappeared. A gasp escaped me. I reached out slowly, gave my father the coins, and then took the chocolate. I smiled as I ate it. My father didn't like sweets, since one could get the negative skill Sweet Tooth. But it was a practical training method, since there was nothing else of value to argue over. I loved sweets. They were my weakness. If I had to fight a chocolate monster in the dungeon, I would eat it rather than kill it, even if it did horrible things to my body.

Well, maybe not that much, but I loved sweets. There were other skills that were negative or not useful. The System recognized what a person focused on to determine if they got a skill.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mentally drained. Social skills are brutal," I replied.

"Well, I am not holding back or trying to be subtle. People find doing this quite rude, but it is great for helping you level." I knew that from my Eldarin Etiquette, but I hadn't realized they could be so strong. Even after the First Prince, I thought that if I was ready, I could resist.

"Why is it so tough? Can you make someone do something like kill themselves?"

"No, you can't do that. Well, not easily at least. Social skills use Mana to get past your outer defenses, your Social Resistance skill, and then all you have is your Focus Stat. A soul will normally try to preserve itself instinctively, so if there is a threat to your life, that will help a person break from the control of a social skill." It was time to buy the next piece of chocolate.

"Two coppers for the next piece."

"No. No. No." Each no was like a hammer against my mind.

"We already agreed on a price of six coppers."

"It was four coppers last time."

"So, you lied to me. How distressing. I don't need to sell them. Perhaps I will eat one myself," he said, and popped a chocolate into his mouth and began chewing.

"You can't do that! Five coppers."

"Eight now, there are fewer, and they are rarer. I also enjoy eating them." I wanted to fight back and say something else, but I just couldn't.

"Seven," I gasped out. I then regretfully pushed over seven coppers to get the next small piece of chocolate.

"What you are talking about matters. Gaining the upper hand in a conversation can sway things in your favor or against you. While you didn't lie, your mind became confused for a moment, which let me hammer home my advantage."

"Do all nobles do this?"

"To varying degrees. Using it outside of nobility makes people consider it both rude and risky. If you target the wrong person and your skills fail, the consequences can be quite lethal. I know your mother enjoys beheading anyone who tries an active social skill on her."

"Really? Isn't that extreme?"

"They see it as an attack. For nobles, it is simply a back-and-forth we are used to, but what the First Prince did when he visited was extremely improper."

"But there is nothing that can be done."

"No, he is the First Prince, and he did nothing besides asking you to think about the future. If he asked for a favor or personal knowledge, then it would be different."

"It just feels wrong to let him get away with such an action."

"You can go about seeking to settle all minor slights or focus on moving on and getting stronger. Take it as a lesson."

"My mother doesn't move on,""And she is the Supreme Warlady, not some noblewoman. When you are over level 150, you can do what you please." Okay, that was a good point. I couldn't go around killing people I disagreed with unless I was super strong. Or I could tell my mother, which I wouldn't do, but it was an option to get revenge.

"And no, you shouldn't complain to your mother."

"I won't, but why?" I asked, and he let out a sigh.

"The political situation right now is in a delicate state. Adding any further complications would only cause more trouble. Your complaint to her will kill the First Prince and future King, and this will create a crisis in this country. It is best to avoid such things, if possible." The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. That was what I liked about my father. He didn't hesitate to explain things to me, even if they were things I wouldn't have to deal with.

He didn't keep me in the dark or try to coddle me. That would have infuriated me. While he might use a bit of flowery language or his Drama skill to frame things in a certain way, that was expected. While he was my father, he was also a noble. That kind of thing came naturally to him. Like killing did for my mother. Well, that was unfair to her, maybe. I didn't understand her very well.

I knew she loved me, but she was so absent that it was hard to know what she was like beyond her martial prowess and her love for me.

"Tell me what you think about your mother." I wasn't supposed to follow his commands or answer his questions, but it seemed incredibly reasonable. Like my father, I should know the answer to this question.

"I…she is amazing, and I look up to her," I said. I was really beginning to dislike social skills. My father gave me a small smile.

"Oh, tell me something specific you like about her." I tried to fight his suggestion. I knew I didn't want to answer, but at the same time, I did. It was like I was fighting with myself.

"Brown hair," I gasped out.

"No screaming in rage to overcome social skills," my father said. I let out a gasp before he hit me with his social skills again.

"Tell me what you dislike about her."

"Nrrrrrrrrrrrr, her absence," I groaned out, and he nodded. My head collapsed onto the table. I felt completely wrung out. There was no pain or exhaustion, just an overwhelming sense of frustration that I couldn't resist even when I knew what was coming. My father had explained it was the sheer stat and level difference. His Focus was much higher than mine, and his skills laughed at my paltry Social Resistance and other skills.

Even with Soul Sense and Mana Sense, his social skills were like a tsunami striking a small house. I was the small house in the metaphor. Monsters didn't use social skills, but some used illusions, which worked the same way based on their underlying principles of how Mana hit a soul, so this training was useful even if I was going to focus on being an adventurer. My father pointed out that facing him was equivalent to facing a regular illusion monster on the 12 th layer of the dungeon.

Even if I knew I had no chance, I felt like I shouldn't let my actions be beyond my control.

"Oh, how upset are you? What would you like to say to your mother?" I wanted to claw my eyes out to stop this. Despite my hatred, I still wanted to answer his questions. I needed to answer them. Like an overwhelming need, I couldn't help myself.

"Only a slight bit. I would tell…tell…tell her I love her," I said with a gasp. I had tried to fight it, but I just couldn't.

"Do you love her more than me?" my father asked. He wasn't trying to be mean on purpose, but I needed to care about the answers to put up a fight and improve my skills. While there was no risk of death, embarrassment was still a distant second.

"I… I… looooove you the same but different," I was forced to say. No matter what I tried, I always had to answer. The one nice thing was that it was obvious if someone was going all out with their social skills, and there were other ways to break the connection. Screaming, running away, and hitting yourself, among other things, worked. However, the rules of this exercise forbade me from doing any of these things.

They only compelled my words, not my actions, but my father warned me that at a high enough level of difference, people could convince others to do outlandish things. Criminals often used social skills, so the nobility highly regulated such training. Anyone besides them using social skills drew a lot of negative attention. Very few social skill tutors existed, and authorities regularly checked their client lists to ensure they weren't teaching the wrong people. This meant people who weren't nobility.

"Now tell me. Have you ever wet yourself?" I refused to answer this. I clenched my jaw tight and forced myself to focus on my breathing through my nose.

"Oh, you don't want to answer, but I am trustworthy. You should tell me. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else." No! I refused to give in. My hands gripped the table between us tightly.

"Isn't your jaw getting tired? Just give it a small rest. I don't mind," That seemed reasonable, and it was feeling stiff. I relaxed my jaw slightly, and it opened.

"I-" That was when I slapped myself, breaking whatever hold the social skills had on me.

"We can stop if you want?"

"No. I just…I can do this. No matter what." My father gave me a look that clearly indicated he didn't believe me.

"Do you really think you can do this?" I let out a sigh.

"No. This is something I'm horrible at. I need to increase my Focus stat, so I never have to worry about this kind of mental attack ever again." I wanted to glare at my father for using his skills so naturally, but that was what someone with social skills would do. They wouldn't use them all right away. That would be like blowing a horn and yelling at someone. That's when I realized he had just used his skills subtly to get me to answer. He was smiling at me, dammit.

They would slide them into a conversation to convince me to say things I didn't want to say. Or answer more than I would have normally answered.

"Oh, how rough? Do you want me to go easier on you?"

"Nrrrrrrrrooooo," I ground out.

"Dammit!"

"Don't get frustrated. Why don't you lean back and relax? No need to be so tense," my father said. I wanted to do that. I took a deep breath and relaxed. Dammit! I just let that one slip by without fighting it.

"Now tell me, have you ever wet yourself?"

"Glob-ab-lab-lab," I tried biting on my tongue, but my mouth didn't want to cooperate. So, everything just got twisted up instead.

"Oh, how cute. Is that a new baby word glob-ab-lab-lab?"

"No, it isn't. Not a baby word at all. I am fighting back against your skills," I said to give me a moment to gather my wits again before my father's next social attack.

"Oh, a new language then. Tell me, does that mean you wet yourself?"

"No, yes, I don't know," I was confused. Thankfully, the question was unclear, allowing me to deflect the worst of it, but I knew my father would keep coming.

"Oh, the word doesn't mean that, and you wet yourself. How embarrassing. Tell me how embarrassing it was." I really wanted to gouge out my eyes and scream now. This was one of the worst things I had ever experienced.

"In…. in…. in…. the dungeon, was about to die," I finally said.

"That must have been scary. Tell me how afraid you were?" I could not tolerate it anymore. My head hit the table, and thankfully, I was clear-headed for a moment.

"That is just going to give you brain damage, not help your skills."

"This is the absolute worst."

"It is, but you wanted the training. Now tell me about the stuffed bear you had as a child. What was its name again?" I didn't want to talk about the bear. I had set it aside when my status became available. My father was relentless. People thought my mother was evil, but they must not have known about social skills.