My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

"Goddamnit it, fuck!" 

Frustration was starting to set it now. There was a wall of non-progress impeding now. At least before I could say I was making steady headway… even if it was only by mere inches or just a few seconds more of resistance. 

I couldn't say that now… now I wasn't able to do anything. 

How long has it been 'now' anyway? An hour? Two hours? The pain, the process blurred the minutes and the hours into one long stretch of stagnant time. Every time I'd fall, fail, the sun would wound up finding its way into my sights, and it was the only way I knew that any time had passed at all. 

When I started this, it hung so high in the sky, so hot, so bright… what was it doing falling so low now? 

I was running out of time. Right now, I needed to be faster, more tenacious, stubborn, if I was ever going to break this loop of failure, it's going to take all that and more. Except, as much as my determination was as firm as ever, physically, my body was too battered, too worn to ever see that determination through.

Even with Ash continuing to provide her best support, there was nothing to show for it. She was just as tired I'm sure… this roundabout with no exit, this unending tune of my shouts and my stumbles… but even so, I would still feel her hands always lift my head from the dirt, hear her voice, brimming and resounding with hope, those words…

"Try again, Master."

  It was almost muscle memory at this point, an instinct that didn't need thinking. I'd stand, raise my arms, and in a manner of seconds, I was back jumping into the fray, pushing, trying… hoping. 

At one point, after noticing the sky had gone slightly dim, and the hue of the clouds turning a dark gray, I had a visitor briefly drop by, one with a rake in hand, gripped tightly in weathered farming gloves, covered in muck and grime. There, with me gasping to the heavens above, a familiar set of ocean-blue eyes met mine. 

Dad…

"You're too impatient," He pointed out to me, bending low and obscuring the sun. "I know what you're doing, what you're trying. It's faster, true… but it's double the effort than if you would have just done it properly."

As if I didn't know that already. Like, I'm choosing to repeatedly lose all control of my body, experience a plethora of indescribable agony all out of a mere whim, seriously?

I'm not listening to this.

"Horses?" I asked, resting my eyes under my arm, recouping my breath. "They here yet?"

I heard an audible grunt, a shuffle of movement, and when he next spoke, his voice sounded slightly further back.

"Not today. He called. He'll bring them tomorrow. Something came up, apparently."

As a response, I grunted back, still lying there in the dirt, dreading removing my arm, and seeing just how far the sun had sunk down already. But as if sensing my own reluctance, Dad sighed, and checked it for me in my stead. 

"It's already four o'clock. You've been at this since ten. I know. Because when I'm working out in the fields, I can sense each and every one of your attempts. You were making progress before… you aren't making progress now." 

"I'm working on it," I snapped, the throbbing pain making everything else feel ten times more aggravating. "I'll do it, okay? I'll do it. I'll break this, I'll save him, and we'll all be happy. Just watch." 

"No, you won't." 

I lowered my arm, jutted my head forward, my gaze immediately finding his. "What did you say?" 

"Not like this," He continued, not batting an eye. "You won't succeed like this." 

Is he trying to provoke me? Anger me? Because let me tell you, it's kinda working. Still, somehow, I manage to restrain myself, control the emotions in my voice enough to quietly ask, "What are you talking about?"

He didn't answer right away, he just stood there quietly, letting my hard breaths fill in the voice of silence as he assessed me with those stoic, somber eyes of his. 

Bluntness was his forte. I knew more than anyone that he's never said anything out of any spite, out of malice. Being provocative just wasn't him. Especially with his family, with us… indelicate as he may be, every word from out his lips was solely and always out of love, out of kindness…

"You're not doing enough." 

Right there, right then, I was having the toughest time trying to find any faint shred of love or kindness in that. Suffice it to say, as much as I tried to, or even wanted to, I just simply couldn't. 

Ash quietly provided me with the usual dose of magic, allowing me to stand, before quickly excusing herself with a step back. I get the sense that she knew this was something she shouldn't get herself involved in. 

On wobbling knees, in a hunched posture, I was still wrapping my head over what the hell he just said. 

He was still staring at me, that stare so callous, cold. Does he not see me struggling to even stand upright? Was he just ignoring how pale and gray my skin had turned? My breathing, the raspiness in my voice, was it seriously falling on deaf ears here? 

I didn't understand.

"This isn't enough?" I asked, confronting him, disbelief in my unblinking eyes. "I'm doing everything I can. I'm giving everything I have. How is that not enough? How can you say that I'm not doing enough?!" 

"Because it's true." 

"No, you can explain that!" I demanded, holding up a trembling finger. "If I'm not doing enough, then what does that make you?! Why don't you care? Why aren't you helping? Why aren't you doing enough?!" 

He blinked, responded, still ever as calm, composed, "I told you, didn't I? I disagree with you. Heavily. I think it is better this man dies than your mother or I risk saving him. You know what could happen if we do, don't you?" 

"You don't know that it will," I immediately sniped back. "It might not happen." 

"All the same, son… you are alone here." 

"So that's the wisdom you're imparting here?! Your advice?" I heaved out a trembling breath. "I'll always be alone?!" 

"I don't mean to upset you…"

"Too bad!" 

"But just because you are, doesn't mean that I don't believe that you won't succeed. I know you will, okay?"

Just what the hell is going on? What's this backtracking? This contradiction? Does he believe me or he doesn't? I don't get him, I don't understand him. 

"That so?" I asked, too baffled to say anything else.

"It is," He affirmed, turning away from me, before leaving, departing for the inside of the house.. "You just need to try hard enough, is all."