Ch.31EP.10 – The Knight Work Hard at Their Side Jobs Too (2)

When the students first heard they had to do jump rope, they looked dumbfounded, thinking, “What is this?”

It seemed like a childish game, and they wondered why they needed to do such a thing. The knight aspirants, in particular, were quite rebellious.

But the moment they saw the jump ropes with red markings.

“W-what is this!?”

This is a jump rope?

…Not an iron bar?

A metal rope made of intertwined steel.

Was this meant to be held?

With suspicion that perhaps only the appearance was like this, the students picked up the metal ropes, but.

Thud!

It was heavy.

So heavy that they almost sprained their wrists from being careless.

That’s how weighty it was.

From the handles to the rope itself.

…They were supposed to jump rope with this?

It seemed impossible. However—

Whoosh! Whoosh!

“This is fun!”

Kunta started jumping rope like a child who had found an amusing toy, and seeing this, the other students began turning their ropes with a glimmer of hope. They thought they might as well try rather than being intimidated beforehand.

But as expected.

“I-I can’t lift it!”

“How are we supposed to turn this thing!”

How could they possibly turn something that was already difficult just to hold!

“Nggghhhh!”

Thankfully, they had learned martial energy techniques, and by channeling their internal energy to full capacity, the rope finally started turning.

At first, they had dismissed the jump rope as a joke, but now they were putting their lives on the line to turn it. One wrong move and they risked dislocating their wrists or elbows.

Whoosh! Whooosh!

But gradually, they gained confidence.

With martial energy—no, with “themselves”—they became convinced they could turn the rope.

They thought they might even be able to reach the required number of jumps—

WHACK!

Thud…

“…”

It seemed likely that someone would get hurt trying to reach the required count.

A student who had been turning the “steel rope” was struck by it and immediately passed out.

Thud, thud…

Once one fell, it triggered a chain reaction, with students getting hit by their ropes and fainting one after another.

The students felt chills, and they couldn’t help but stop turning their steel ropes.

One wrong move and a hit to the head could be truly disastrous.

“Weaklings. You pass out after getting hit by just that? Tsk tsk, so weak, so very weak.”

-…

The students felt this wasn’t about weakness but rather a matter of life and death, yet they dared not argue with him.

After all.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!

“Why are you making such a difficult task out of something so simple, hmm?”

…The instructor was rotating the steel jump rope with such ease that it looked truly simple.

Then suddenly.

WHACK!

The steel rope struck his head hard.

…It definitely hit him hard.

“Ah, a mistake.”

But there wasn’t a single wound on his head; he looked perfectly fine.

He was just embarrassed about making a mistake while showing off.

Is he even human?

“Doesn’t that hurt, sir?”

“It does hurt. But I endure it with willpower. A knight should be capable of this much.”

“I don’t think that’s it…”

Isn’t that something only you can do?

-The students collectively held back these thoughts.

* * *

Ihan hadn’t mindlessly given them heavy steel ropes based solely on his own standards.

He had common sense and was aware that his physique was special.

But precisely because of that, he knew.

They were “perfectly capable” of handling this level.

“Some of you may have already noticed, but the weight of the ropes differs by color. Yellow is an average lightweight jump rope, green is 3kg. Red is 10kg.”

-T-ten kilos!?

A wave of murmurs spread.

Especially those with yellow and green ropes looked at those with (blood-stained) red ropes in shock.

Had they been turning that all this time?

But ignoring the murmurs, Ihan continued his explanation.

“This instructor remembers the duels from the first day. With a few exceptions, most of you were quickly subdued by me. Ah, if anyone doesn’t remember, speak up, and I’ll help you recall.”

…Though it hurt their pride, no one objected.

It was the truth, after all.

However, Ihan wasn’t bringing up yesterday’s events to humiliate or embarrass them.

“From what I observed yesterday, the swordsmanship department students have extremely poor fundamentals. Especially the knight aspirants. You claim to aspire to be knights, yet you have no basic skills whatsoever. So I ask you—do you truly, seriously want to become knights with such meager skills?”

-!!!?

It was a sufficiently insulting statement.

Although they had been thoroughly defeated, they were still the children of knightly families.

And now he was questioning their sincerity…!

This was a great insult.

But Ihan scoffed at their indignant looks.

“Those of you who feel my words are insulting, listen carefully: you are fools. You don’t even know what you lack, and you’ve probably only heard flattering words all your lives. Surrounded by sycophants, that’s why your fundamentals are so pathetic. If you were to go to a battlefield, you’d either be the first to die or live a long time—why live long? Because you’d be injured before even reaching the battlefield, whimpering in some nice villa with good water and air. The military isn’t foolish enough to deploy such pitiful wretches who can’t even take care of themselves, you miserable idiots.”

“…”

An uncomfortable silence fell.

The students wondered if failing at jump rope—or rather, feeling pain when hit by that ridiculous steel rope—was really such a terrible thing.

And about lacking fundamentals?

Some couldn’t accept this, and Ihan snorted, saying he had expected as much.

Indeed, no matter how much he explained, there were those who wouldn’t understand.

So there was no point in wasting his breath.

“Even if the instructor says this, there will be those who can’t accept it—that’s why you’re fools. I didn’t expect much from you anyway. So let me show you an example that’s easy to understand. Kunta, Arno, Garand—step forward.”

Thump.

“Kunta is here!”

“I can roughly guess what we need to do.”

“Hmm, you act exactly like our old man. Are you perhaps his hidden son?”

The three stepped forward eagerly, and Ihan was satisfied.

Yes, that’s the right attitude for learning.

“You should be ashamed. The most skilled among you perform without a single complaint, while those below average in skill have nothing but complaints.”

Ihan gave them a nod.

Though there was no explanation, they understood perfectly and silently carried out their task.

Whoosh, whoooosh-!

The steel ropes moved with a heavy sound cutting through the air.

Kunta handled the steel rope freely, like a fun toy, while Arno demonstrated a textbook-perfect, stable posture as he jumped. Garand seemed casual but was just as stable as Arno.

Without a hint of faltering, the ropes went over and over, and though there were differences in speed and they were sweating profusely, they showed no signs of fatigue as they continued jumping.

Ten jumps became twenty, then thirty.

Slowly but steadily, they accumulated jumps.

It was hard to believe that this could be done so stably.

It was completely different from those who couldn’t even manage three jumps without getting injured.

Just as some of the complaining students were losing their words and blushing, Ihan—

Tap!

Suddenly tapped Kunta’s rope, breaking his rhythm and causing the rope to strike his back.

Slap!

The sound was followed by a loud crack! so intense it sounded like being hit simultaneously with a whip and a hammer.

That kind of impact would make one worry about broken bones, possibly requiring three months of treatment.

But.

“Mmm, in-instructor bad. Kunta hurts…”

“Stop exaggerating. You can handle this much.”

“Pain is still pain.”

“Stop grumbling… Fine, I’ll buy you something tasty later.”

“Instructor is a good person!”

He seemed perfectly fine.

Of course, he wasn’t completely unaffected.

His skin had reddened, showing he had felt the impact.

Still, it was hard to believe he could withstand such a blow.

Perhaps—

“If any student is thinking something as pathetic as ‘Perhaps it’s a barbarian ability?’, gouge out your eyes immediately. Especially those who have learned martial energy techniques—what use are eyes that cannot see even when they’re there?”

…Another wave of shame washed over them, distinct from the earlier embarrassment.

It meant quite a few had indeed wondered if it was a barbarian ability.

Snorting at such students, Ihan continued his explanation.

“Though I haven’t studied martial energy techniques in detail, I know some basic facts. Martial energy is a technique that momentarily unlocks the body’s potential, and that potential can be developed through effort and training. —Am I correct?”

“Precisely.”

“Thank you for the sincere answer. You really are different from the others, showing promise. Would you consider becoming an assistant instructor?”

“…I’ll have to decline.”

“That’s a shame.”

It was Arno who answered, and he still didn’t look tired despite having done over 100 jumps with the steel rope.

“Arno is currently using martial energy on his knees, ankles, wrists, elbows, and shoulders. He’s only protecting the parts that might be injured during intense exercise. And he’s not wasting any unnecessary energy. He’s jumping rope with minimal movements. And he’s not using martial energy anywhere else. Do you understand what this means?”

“Ah…”

Finally, signs of understanding began to appear.

It felt like teaching kindergarteners rather than academy students—their comprehension was disgustingly slow. Ihan, with a look of contempt, stated the answer they should have figured out by now.

“It means that Arno is using martial energy only where absolutely necessary and is turning the rope using his natural strength and stamina alone.”

“In-instructor, you said you don’t know much about martial energy techniques, so how can you see through all this?”

“I can tell by looking.”

“I-is that so?”

“Anyway, the important thing is this: Arno, Garand, and Kunta have all thoroughly built up their basic strength and stamina. They’re not slackers like you who use martial energy for every activity to make training easier.”

While martial energy might seem like an almighty power, what’s more important is the person using it.

Even with the finest sword, if the wielder is third-rate, they can’t even properly cut wood.

In that sense, these students were wrong.

‘It’s like only training internal energy in martial arts without any external training.’

They were like glass cups that couldn’t even hold water.

No, that was giving them too much credit.

‘Not even glass cups—paper cups would be more accurate.’

When would these people ever become proper knights?

“Therefore, what you need now isn’t sword training or martial energy practice. You need to build up your stamina, strength, endurance, and durability first—that’s the proper order, you incompetent lot.”

“…That’s a long-winded way of saying we need to start all over again with basic training.”

Garand’s piercing comment came just as he completed 200 jumps, coinciding with the end of Ihan’s speech. The students’ expressions darkened.

Basic training? At this point…?

“By the way, the section where most people fail the knight order entrance exam is the physical fitness test. Strangely, people fail at the easiest part. Ah, right. Since you’ll just join your family’s knight order anyway, perhaps the physical test doesn’t matter? You’ll be automatically admitted without a test. Heh, how nice to have good bloodlines, right? Haha!”

“…”

Being told to join a family knight order was tantamount to being called a “parachute appointment,” and for nobles who valued honor above all else, it was like telling them to bite their tongues and die.

With that, their resistance disappeared, and Ihan was satisfied that the noise had finally ceased.

He liked seeing them recognize their place.

“Well, don’t worry. I don’t plan to keep doing this boring stuff forever either.”

Perhaps I’ll use the entire first semester?

“I guarantee you this: if you follow along well this semester, every student here will see their physical abilities improve beyond comparison to what they are now. Of course…”

He trailed off, scanning the faces of all the students.

His gaze seemed to say:

“That’s only if you can keep up.”

A mocking look that questioned if any of them could follow through.

Feeling his contemptuous gaze, the students thought:

They wished for nothing more than to land just one punch on him.

…But that was still a distant, far-off dream.