Ch.39EP.12 – The Knight Wore a Black Octagonal Hat (2)

The commoner cadets of the Swordsmanship Department.

Unlike the noble cadets who had been full of defiance from the beginning and were now called “sprouts” or “sprout team,” these commoners hadn’t shown much resistance to Ihan from their first meeting.

This was partly because he came from an even lower social standing than themselves, but also because they were captivated by his “strength.”

The image of him overwhelmingly defeating the vice-captain of a renowned dueling family who had insulted him was particularly etched in their minds.

He was strong.

It was astonishing that someone from a lower background than theirs could become so powerful.

And after getting to know him properly later, they learned that he had never been taught “martial techniques.”

In a way, this made sense.

After all, it was said that starting to learn martial techniques at age five was already considered late.

Well, naturally, the lower classes couldn’t learn such things.

When first learning martial techniques, to develop what was called life force or martial energy, one needed both a master to guide the martial energy and expensive priests to prevent damage to the young practitioner’s body.

Even if they wanted to train, it was something the lower classes absolutely couldn’t afford.

…Some say martial techniques can be stably trained in adulthood, but how could that possibly be true?

Perhaps for a once-in-a-generation genius or someone born with a heroic destiny, but unfortunately, most people are neither geniuses nor heroes.

They’re just struggling day by day to survive.

So they respected their instructor.

He hadn’t learned martial techniques and was born in an even worse environment than theirs, yet he became a knight.

And he was strong.

Strength—who wouldn’t admire someone who had built up such a coveted treasure through effort alone!

So they were determined to carry out the instructor’s orders to the best of their ability and had firmly resolved to endure any harsh schedule.

“—Trainee number 2, fall out.”

…That had been their resolve.

“F-fall out!!”

“Your voice is too quiet! Do the other trainees need to suffer more for you to wake up?”

“N-no, sir!!”

“I told you to answer only with ‘Ack.’ Do you find the instructor’s words amusing?”

“A-ack!!”

“Why aren’t you answering? Do you find the instructor’s words amusing?”

“…Ack!”

“You answered two beats late. Trainees will perform PT exercise 8, 30 repetitions!”

-3, 30 reps!!

“Your voices are too quiet! PT exercise 8, 100 repetitions!”

-100 reps!!!

“Good, now 50 full-body twists.”

The instructor, no, the devil, blew his whistle as he ordered them.

If they couldn’t match their movements to the rhythm of that whistle, they would be picked on again.

“Aaaaargh!!”

“Nnnnngh-!”

“M-mother…!”

Screams filled the air.

Though the movements were certainly painful, it was strange that cadets who hadn’t neglected their physical training were suffering so much.

But they weren’t in their usual condition.

After all…

“We’ve only done ‘7 hours’ so far! Everyone, keep it up!”

-A-aaack!!

…Seven hours. They felt like they were going insane after doing this for seven hours already.

*

*

*

Two days earlier, before dawn.

The training ground was shrouded in darkness before the morning sun had risen, yet the swordsmanship cadets had gathered there.

Not all of them, though.

Ihan had only summoned the sprout cadets the day before.

…Those who came without even being told were…

“Kunta, this looks like it’ll be fun.”

“…I really don’t think so.”

“Yet you came anyway, which shows how greedy you are, young master. You too.”

“You rascal! How dare you disrespect my lord…!”

“Call him Roen, not ‘your lord.'”

“!!?”

The four people Ihan considered to be in a different class, plus one guy more suited to be an assassin than a knight.

And also…

“W-why am I…”

The teaching assistant, who had been enjoying sweet sleep after finishing paperwork, wore a tearful expression, feeling deeply wronged at being forcibly dragged here.

“Everyone’s here.”

Finally, the man who had gathered them all appeared.

“Hmm, it seems no one ran away. Oh? You guys came too?”

Roen and the others.

He had told the young masters and chicks they didn’t need to come, so why were they here?

The answer came from Garand.

“You said you’d properly teach us [Aura] during this ‘special intensive training,’ so of course we had to come.”

“…You could have learned it later, you know?”

His expression questioned why they would go through this when, with their talent, they could learn it anytime.

But they were serious.

“We could learn it later, yes. But we have no desire whatsoever to receive special treatment.”

They weren’t the type to slack off just because they had talent.

If that were the case, they would have returned to their hometowns where they had families or masters.

They were quite determined, and Ihan scratched his head.

“…Well, I did need extra hands, so that’s fortunate.”

He was secretly pleased with the unexpected help when…

“W-wait! We came too!”

“…H-hello, Instructor.”

“…Why are you two here?”

Why were people he told not to come showing up?

Irene Windler and Chick No. 1—no, Levi Pollet—joined the cadets wearing light workout clothes. Ihan blinked.

“Hmm, let me ask Chick No. 2 first, why did you come?”

“…Since this happened because of me, I felt I should take some responsibility.”

“Hmm, that’s admirable.”

Irene Windler’s statement was reasonable.

Though unintentional, it was true that she was the cause of this situation.

As expected of someone who had possessed a romance fantasy character.

She was indeed a person of interest who attracted incidents even when doing nothing.

However, she did have a sense of responsibility, which was why she had come despite Ihan’s ominous warning that “those who want to come can, but you might need a year to recover if things go wrong, so it’s better not to come.”

Irene Windler, with a determined face…!

“So, what’s your real reason?”

“I don’t want to end up like that magic professor who claims to be 28. I thought I should exercise, but I lack motivation when doing it alone… hehe.”

“…I appreciate your honesty.”

So she wasn’t entirely admirable after all.

[Arin, I’m not even embarrassed by your consistency anymore.]

‘…I’m starting to scare myself with my own shamelessness.’

Shifting his gaze from Irene’s ambiguous expression, Ihan turned to Levi Pollet, the girl whose wavy hair suited her well.

“Why is Chick No. 1 here? Were you dragged along by Chick No. 2?”

Honestly, Irene Windler’s presence wasn’t surprising, but why had this girl come?

“W-well, I can’t deny Lady Irene’s suggestion played a part… but I’m also interested myself…”

“…Hmm.”

Thinking about it now, Levi Pollet seemed to have more passion than the other noble ladies.

Passion for growth, that is.

‘So there are cases like this too.’

Ihan wondered if Levi Pollet might have some connection to Irene Windler.

If this world were truly like a romance fantasy or regression novel, there would be supporting characters besides the protagonist.

And such supporting characters invariably had their own distinct personalities, circumstances, and goals.

Could she perhaps be one of those…?

‘…That’s nonsense.’

Ihan shook his head.

It was a pointless thought, a misunderstanding.

There was a cadet—no, a disciple—who wanted to learn.

And it was a master’s duty to teach a willing disciple.

Whether she was a supporting character or not was irrelevant.

Right now, she was simply a disciple who wanted to learn from him.

Whatever others might be, at least for him, this world was “reality,” and there were no supporting characters.

So…

“This instructor always welcomes those who seek growth, Chick No. 1—no, Levi Pollet.”

“Ah!”

“However, I can’t give you special treatment. So prepare yourself thoroughly.”

“Y-yes!”

Levi Pollet nodded vigorously with a happy face, and Ihan, feeling pleased…

“-Pack your bags.”

“…Pardon?”

“We need to march first. A light 30km to start.”

“……”

“With full gear, of course. Your pack should weigh at least 10kg. But since you’re still lacking in stamina, I’ll let you get away with 8kg.”

“……”

…It took Levi Pollet less than a minute to realize something was very wrong.

* * *

Marching.

Simply put, it’s the act of soldiers moving in groups, but the military definition is somewhat different.

‘Moving while maintaining combat readiness’

-This would be a more accurate description.

That’s why soldiers carry heavy loads during marches.

Food, weapons, clothing, and other supplies.

Soldiers must move flexibly while carrying everything they need.

So…

“Everyone’s moving too slowly. From now on, we’re not walking briskly—we’re speed walking! Understand! Stop crawling like slugs and move faster!”

…It was more like a cursed jog.

“Huff, huuuff! Huff…”

All the cadets were panting.

They were moving while carrying heavy iron swords and wearing armor.

Add to that additional weapons, food, sleeping bags, and more—it was absolute torture.

It was fortunate that cadet armor was lightweight; otherwise, they would have lost consciousness long ago.

It had been pitch dark when they started walking, but now the sun was rising, gradually increasing the heat.

They were in agony, feeling the full misery of walking 30km while carrying dozens of kilograms of equipment.

“If tired, should Kunta, carry for you?”

“N-no! I’m fine, Kunta!”

“You look very exhausted?”

“…That’s certainly true. B-but are you okay, Kunta? You’re carrying even more than us.”

“Still light for me. But I do sweat a little.”

“…Haha.”

Despite carrying an even heavier load than the others, Kunta was still fine.

Two large boxes were stacked on top of Kunta’s backpack, and thinking about the massive amount of food inside those boxes made their legs tremble.

The mysterious Barbarian race.

Their [Mystery] was said to be indomitable physical and mental strength.

Seeing it firsthand left them astonished.

It even inspired respect.

‘I-I too…!’

Yet despite possessing such mysterious power, Kunta had never shown laziness.

The sprout cadet tried to muster strength and…

Thud! Thud!!

“Cadet, are you alright? You’re not controlling your breathing well.”

“……”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“…Instructor, what are you pulling right now?”

“Hmm? Sacks of cornmeal and potatoes, why?”

“W-why are you…”

“The cadets need food for a month, don’t they? What Cadet Kunta is carrying is nowhere near enough.”

“……”

…That’s not what I’m asking about?

The cadet was dumbfounded.

It wasn’t just the dozens of kilograms in their backpacks—seeing the instructor single-handedly pulling a cart loaded with dozens of sacks of cornmeal and potatoes was staggering.

What is that?

…Scary.

“…Instructor, I know this is sudden, but are you really human?”

“Haha, I understand what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. I’m a perfectly ordinary human. And after this survival—I mean, special intensive training—you’ll be able to become like me.”

“……”

…That doesn’t seem likely.

The cadet swallowed these thoughts.

Just then…

“Ah, I can finally see it.”

“Pardon?”

“Once we climb up there, we’ll reach the training ground.”

“Where are you referring to…?”

“There. See that mountain peak where some snow hasn’t melted yet? We need to climb that.”

“…Pardon?”

“Haha, think of it as a bit of light mountain climbing.”

“……”

The instructor pointed to a mountain with an elevation of 1,384 meters, and they fell silent.

…With serious consideration about whether dropping out now might be the right choice.