TRPG Player Aims For The Strongest Build In Another World ~Mr. Henderson Preach the Gospel~

I’ve heard that the initial velocity of an arrow is around 45 m/s, give or take. The moment your ear catches the sound of the bowstring releasing, the arrow has likely already traveled at least 40 meters.

However, even that speed is no match for lightning. Compared to the speed of electrical signals in the brain, it’s slow enough to make you yawn.

My reflexes, heightened to their limit by [Lightning Reflexes], had already set me in motion the instant I heard the bowstring release. I bent low, turned toward the source of the sound, and with the help of [Multiple Thinking], I rewrote the formula for the [Invisible Hand] spell already active, altering its trajectory.

Before the arrow released from the distant woods could reach me, it struck the [Invisible Hand].

Yes, the hand isn’t intangible—it’s a force field created by magic. Its mere presence is enough to push through the air and block incoming objects, making it a fully functional shield.

But… What on earth was that!? Did I really just do that!? And wasn’t that move pretty impressive just now?

While celebrating my reaction to the arrow’s speed—though, truthfully, I was rather confused—I looked toward the woods, about 80 meters away, and saw shadows moving.

There wasn’t just one shadow. Realizing their ambush had failed, several figures rose from the bushes, clearly advancing toward me.

Bandits!

Their dirty clothing, grimy skin, unkempt hair, and mismatched weapons were a textbook example of bandits. With appearances like that, it was hard to imagine they could be mistaken for anything else.

The number… uh, there were many. Six in total. The one who shot the arrow stayed behind in the woods while the other five sprinted toward me with all their might. They intended to overwhelm me by sheer numbers.

Ah, why do these guys show up here!? We’re off the main road, and there’s nothing valuable around!?

Or, rather, were they overlooked because it’s such a remote area? Ah! Damn it, patrol squads, do your job!!

Various thoughts raced through my mind, but the truth was, I was completely disoriented. After all, I had immediately chosen to stand my ground without hesitation.

Later, when I calmed down, I realized something: with an opponent like this, I, the apprentice, didn’t need to risk my life… Master, the undeniably strong character, could have handled it with just a snap of his fingers.

But it happened, and I couldn’t undo it. In my first real battle, my head was boiling.

The first to charge wasn’t a human—it was a two-meter-tall ogre with blue skin. Was it a male? Comparing it to Lauren, the guard I met before, its appearance was pathetically meager. Despite its massive size and some muscle mass, it was dressed in rags. It wielded what looked like an axe or a mace made by crudely tying a stone to a handle and charged toward me, eyes blood-red, drooling uncontrollably. It didn’t resemble a warrior at all.

Even with no practical experience beyond training, the ogre’s clumsiness was painfully obvious—from its footing to its entire posture.

The clash was brief. By stepping diagonally forward, I evaded its attack, simultaneously raising [Sending Wolf] with a compact motion and swinging it sideways to slice through the air.

The sensation was heavy, like cleaving through something incredibly hard. Though its metallic skin and alloy skeleton were too tough, my skill and the sharpness of the [Sending Wolf] won out.

A quick glance behind revealed the ogre writhing in agony, groaning as it spun around, its side and half of its shoulder severed, spraying a blue blood containing copper instead of iron.

“GURUAAAAAA!!”

Was it not speaking any human language?

But I had no time to dwell on the strange ogre. Five more enemies remained.

Next to approach were four goblins. Among the magical species classified as demons, they are smaller but possess the strength of adult men despite their childlike stature. Their light weight and agility make them renowned explorers of ruins and ancient structures. Known for their prolific breeding, goblins thrive across the continent, second only to humans in population.

Having lived in a manor with a few goblin families and having played with them as a child, I recognized them at a glance.

But they seemed very different. Armed with crude wooden spears, they came rushing madly, showing no signs of rationality or intelligence.

Were they really bandits?

I gently deflected the spear’s sharp tip aimed at me using the edge of my blade, causing it to bend. By strongly deflecting it, the weapon might rotate quickly, endangering me further. So, I deflected it softly, creating an opening to close the distance.

“GYUAAAAA!?”

With a small upper cut from above, I shattered both the crude spear and the hand gripping it. The attacker fell to a crouch clutching his hand, clearly unable to continue fighting.

Four left.

So far, they had attacked individually, which equated to two one-on-one battles. But the next attackers, avoiding the incapacitated spearman, rushed toward me almost simultaneously. One wielded a rusty dagger, another held a rock which, when wielded with adult strength, could easily kill me.

The last one, unarmed, jumped on the back of the crouched ally, clearly without a coordinated plan, yet presenting an impressive three-pronged assault. Did I mention how unlucky I’m feeling right now? Really, who rolled the dice for this scenario?

There’s no way I could defend against all three simultaneously. I could manage two directions—defanging one and evading the other with my current skill—but an attack from above was too much. Normally, I’d step back a few paces to reset the engagement.

A week ago, that’s exactly what I would’ve done.

Without hesitation, I struck the dagger-wielding foe, the most immediate threat. The counter itself was simple. Their foolish attempt at thrusting the dagger with the reverse grip had no reach compared to mine. A stab to the shoulder ended it.

Now what? Without hesitation, I initiated a spell I’ve grown more accustomed to.

“GUA!?”

An unexpected sensation surfaced.

It was a tactile feedback from the [Invisible Hand]’s force field, crafted by magic.

Indeed, this wasn’t merely a spell meant for retrieving dropped spoons. When properly “customized,” it could become a formidable combat spell.

The goblin grabbed by the [Invisible Hand] was forcibly slammed into its comrade, who was swinging a rock toward my waist. The impact was substantial. Despite their small size, goblins weigh around 30 kg at most, but with the help of the “hand’s” power amplified by the force of gravity, it became an effective bludgeoning weapon. Imagine three bags of rice falling from above. That alone would likely kill a person.

The deafening sound of flesh colliding echoed, and the two shadows tumbled away with remaining momentum, a surreal scene.

Had no arrow come flying through the space they vacated, I might have been able to watch the moment with amusement.

Of course, accurately predicting an arrow’s trajectory is easy as long as you’ve precisely tracked the moment of release. Lambert, for instance, would simply catch and throw them back.

I preferred a more elegant approach.

Magic has “expandability.” Magic works through formulas, called “spells,” which are akin to codes in a system, designed to deceive or manipulate reality.

Thus, theoretically, you can modify them into forms more suitable for you just as software can be customized by requesting additional features or interface changes from developers.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered, after mastering the spells, that each individual spell could be enhanced with addons.

I added three upgrades to my [Invisible Hand] spell.

The first was [Unyielding Brachium], allowing the “hand” to extend its reach beyond normal limits by channeling additional magic. This added to its power, which previously was limited by my physical strength.

The second was [Giant’s Palm], expanding the size of the “hand.” If pushed to its limit—ignoring efficiency—it could extend to the size of a tatami mat, with a range as far as the eye can see in RPG terms.

The final upgrade, [Third Hand], was a bit pricier but still modest, considering it was a feature addition to a simple spell. This gave the “hand” the sensation of touch, allowing fine control that wasn’t normally possible.

Without sensation, the “hand” is like an invisible UFO catcher arm—awkward to manipulate precisely. With [Third Hand], however, I achieved tactile control, even at extended distances.

This upgrade was perfect for implementing a long-range attack option.

“GUO…!?”

The “hand,” faster than sound, reached out and grabbed the ogre, who was preparing his next arrow. Inspired by the warriors from some distant galaxy I read about as a child—those dark knights—they fit the style. As a child, I admired dark knights…

However, I didn’t intend to hang and strangle him like those dark knights. I merely extended my hand, holding his neck firmly, applying pressure accurately to compress his blood vessels. Within seconds, the ogre collapsed due to oxygen deprivation.

By constricting the carotid artery, I interrupted the oxygen supply to the brain, an uncounterable move against any rational thinker.

And thus, my inaugural battle and chaos concluded in less than twenty seconds.

Ah, role-playing games consider a round to consist of five or ten seconds, but isn’t that too short? Forgive me for doubting that before. A second is far more concentrated than I ever imagined. Even amid the chaos of multiple adventurers and enemies trading blows, it feels eternal.

My hands trembled. The tension of having just exchanged life and death hadn’t hit me until now. That the trembling was absent during the fight thanks to Baroness Lambert’s intensive training was indeed a blessing.

Good… I’m truly glad I survived. And I managed without killing anyone.

“What are you doing?”

An inquisitive voice came from above. Looking up, I found Lady Agrippina sitting comfortably on a distortion in the moonlit space.

And it hit me—normally, I could’ve just left this to the strong character waiting behind me.

You knew, didn’t you? Why didn’t you help me then!

“Fooling around with monsters…”

……What did she just say?

【Tips】 Magical species (魔種) and monsters (魔物) are distinct but share the same essence.

Baroness Agrippina du Stal is an excellent mage.

Thus, she has a deep understanding of various methods of “elimination” and never lets her guard down. Even when engaging in relaxed behavior and scolding her apprentice mid-lunch, the minimal precautions remain ever-present.

When the detecting spell placed within her carriage signaled a living entity approaching—not unusual despite the road’s remoteness—she didn’t dismiss it since it came from within the woods.

Though trivial in scale, this wasn’t something to ignore. Four goblins and two ogres, fully armed, including one archer, made up six enemies. Spec-wise, they outmatched humans, but to her, they were merely nuisances easily disposed of with a snap of her fingers—or left to the inexpert adventurers if desired.

Even ogres possess tough hides that can resist weak transformations or manifestations of magic, purely by physical durability.

Goblins, with strength rivaling adult men and superior agility, appear even faster due to their smaller size.

On the other hand, there was the apprentice, an inexperienced child of barely twelve, with an incomplete physique. Armed with only a sword and some rudimentary, non-combat spells. Unarmored and clad only in travel attire offering no slash resistance.

Any gambler witnessing this matchup would shake their heads at the futility and quickly revise their odds to bet on how swiftly the child would perish.

“Eliza, don’t slurp your soup.”

“Umm…”

“Don’t chew on your spoon.”

“Eeek…”

“And no drinking it all at once either.”

“Uh-oh…?”

Despite the apprentice tilting her head in confusion, a segment of the mage’s multitasking mind detected an anomaly. The detection spell indicated that something biological approached.

A bandit’s surprise attack would have likely struck the boy before he realized it.

But it never happened.

“Hmm…?”

Just as she mused about erecting a barrier with a mere whisper, the arrow halted far earlier than anticipated. Her magically-enhanced eyes, capable of detecting invisible phenomena, revealed what should’ve been an inconsequential spell—meant for nothing more than retrieving small objects—somehow intercepting the arrow mid-flight.

“Heh…”

“What’s the matter, dear?”

She couldn’t help but show some interest. True, magic is all about application. Even a mundane spell like [Purification] could, through modification, strip an enemy’s skin layer by layer—an admittedly brutal adaptation. There were combat mages in her acquaintance who specialized in such grotesque tactics.

“It’s nothing.”

If one is determined, any tool—even a butter knife—can take a life. Magic, with its broad adaptability, proves even more versatile. Evidently, her apprentice had a battle-ready mindset surpassing expectations.

Perhaps, one day, this apprentice might even serve as a trusted retainer rather than merely an apprentice…

Thus, the mage decided to observe the upcoming battle. Initially, she considered intervening, but the apprentice seemed so eager that it would’ve been a shame to stop the lesson.

Somewhere, it was written that one should not interfere with a child’s motivation. Crushing curiosity could stifle future development, so it was best to follow the advice.

And so, the apprentice executed flawlessly—alone overcoming a force that could have wiped out an entire adventuring party.

One question lingered. Why hadn’t the apprentice killed the beasts outright?

It made sense for mere bandits—if only for profit, letting them live could pay more, dragging them along for small fees.

But beasts? Keeping them alive serves no real purpose.

Unsettled by the mystery, she finished her soup and paused.

“Eliza, stay still for a moment.”

“Huh?”

And then the mage tore through space itself…

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