Ch.5Buh (1)

“Hup… hup…!”

The Valsalva breathing technique.

It involved taking a deep breath through the nose to fill the abdomen with air, then holding it to exert maximum strength.

The key to this technique was to endure until your ears felt blocked.

This created a kind of airbag throughout the body, allowing it to withstand the resistance from heavy weights.

A breathing method commonly seen at gyms.

Anyone who had ever heard middle-aged men making sounds like a rice cooker finishing its cycle would understand immediately.

Anyway, I was making these sounds while continuing my exercise… no, my training for survival.

“One more… just one more…!”

My legs trembled.

I gritted my teeth and squeezed every ounce of strength from my thighs to push against the floor.

“Haaaaaap!”

With that shout, my back straightened.

I smiled with satisfaction as I tipped the barbell backward.

Thud.

“Five.”

I had been training primarily with the three major lifts.

The magnificent and majestic number that revealed the fruits of my labor made me proud of myself.

Squat: 180 kg.

With this, I could match my pre-discharge personal record of 450 kg for the three major lifts.

The three major lifts.

Anyone interested in fitness would immediately recognize these three famous exercises.

Squat, deadlift, and bench press.

With the squat at 180 kg, deadlift at 180 kg, and bench press at 90 kg, I had achieved a total of 450 kg.

The bench press weight was significantly lower compared to the squat and deadlift.

This was because there was no proper bench here, so I had to lie on the ground to do the press, which limited how much weight I could lift.

“When spring comes, I should find some good wood and make a proper bench.”

The nomads who roamed the Mongolian steppes in search of grass to feed their livestock.

Even these nomads didn’t move during winter because of the bitter cold.

If they moved then, even animals with higher body temperatures than humans would freeze.

That’s how cold the Mongolian winter was.

Only when the frigid winds from Lake Baikal calmed down could they finally move.

While I was lost in these thoughts, I sensed someone approaching and looked in that direction.

“Father!”

A cute little child running across the snow.

As soon as I saw the child, I bent down and spread my arms.

“Oof!”

I lifted the child up while holding them.

The little one beamed with joy.

I placed the child on my shoulders.

“Piggyback! I love piggybacks!”

“Is a piggyback ride that good, Khachiun?”

“Hehe. Father’s piggyback rides are the best in the world.”

Khachiun stomped his feet with delight.

Temujin, who had followed his younger brother, sighed and scolded Khachiun.

“What rudeness is this to Father! Khachiun!”

“Heeeng…”

“It’s fine. I’m happy that Alchidai is enjoying himself so much.”

Khachiun Elchi, the youngest son born to Yesugei and Ho’elun.

In the original history, the youngest was Temuge, but perhaps my entering Yesugei’s body had twisted the original timeline, as the fourth child Temuge was never born, making the third child Khachiun the youngest.

The youngest Khachiun’s nickname was Alchidai.

It meant “peace” in Mongolian.

“I worry that because Father dotes on Khachiun so much, he’s becoming spoiled.”

Temujin’s concerned remark.

Yet his expression suggested he was slightly envious.

Though physically grown, Temujin was only 13 years old.

I could fully understand why he might feel jealous that I seemed to favor only Khachiun.

“Up we go.”

When I lowered my body, Khachiun immediately got down.

Though he looked disappointed, he realized his eldest brother Temujin was displeased and had no choice but to get down.

“Temujin.”

“Yes, Father?”

“Would you like a ride too?”

“Wh-what?”

Temujin was taken aback.

I smiled at my bewildered son.

“Isn’t it unfair that only Khachiun gets a piggyback ride? So I’ll give you one too.”

“It’s… it’s fine, Father. Besides, I’m of marriageable age and—oof!”

As my son hesitated, I quickly grabbed him and placed him on my shoulders.

“Whoa!”

Unlike the young Khachiun, Temujin’s weight was definitely noticeable.

He must have weighed well over 60 kg. It would have been quite burdensome normally, but thanks to my recent training, it wasn’t too heavy.

“Haha! My son Temujin has grown so big!”

“F-Father…! I’m… I’m heavy. P-please put me down!”

Though he said this, he was clearly enjoying it, stomping his feet with pleasure.

Temujin, at an age equivalent to a sixth-grader in modern terms, was genuinely delighted by this simple play, as befitting his age.

Seeing my son happy made me happy as a parent.

So I pulled out my secret weapon that I often used when playing with my nephews during New Year’s.

“Wh-whaaaa!”

I started spinning around while giving him a piggyback ride.

Temujin cried out in surprise and delight.

“Hahaha! How is it? Fun, isn’t it?”

“F-Father! S-stop…! Stop…!”

“I won’t stop until you say it’s fun.”

“Wh-whaa! Whaaaa! It’s… it’s fun…! It’s fun!”

“I can’t hear you!”

“It’s fun! It’s fun! So please… please stop, Father!”

Temujin finally showed his true self.

In high spirits, I spun a few more times before putting Temujin down.

“Haha… ha… haaa…”

I felt a bit dizzy from spinning too much.

But seeing Temujin so happy made me glad I had given him the piggyback ride.

“So, was it fun?”

“It… it was fun.”

“If you don’t say it like before…”

“It was fun…”

The young Temujin’s simple words.

I approached my son and patted his head.

“Well done, my son.”

At my words, Temujin silently looked at me for a moment.

He fidgeted with his fingers before gathering courage to look at me.

“…Thank you, Father.”

Temujin’s heartfelt words.

I responded with a smile.

* * *

Having completed all preparations, I was about to mount my horse to participate in the Bokh. Suddenly, the horse began to shy away.

“What’s this?”

My personal “car,” Eger.

Usually an obedient animal, but since I hadn’t seen him for a while due to my focus on training, he seemed to find me unfamiliar.

“Haha! It seems Eger is intimidated by your size, brother.”

Munglig’s playful remark.

I could only click my tongue in response.

“I did bulk up… I mean, I did gain a lot of weight…”

I had focused on the three major lifts to prepare for the Bokh.

Additionally, filling my stomach with meat and milk for three meals a day had caused my body to nearly double in size.

Without exaggeration, my entire body was covered in muscle as if I had taken anabolic steroids.

“One might believe that Daichi Tengri himself has entered your body, brother.”

Munglig didn’t hold back his praise for my physique.

Though I felt embarrassed, I was secretly pleased.

My body had indeed grown unrecognizably large.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say this was entirely due to the Mongolian lifestyle.

Mongolians typically don’t hunt in winter.

They spend most of their time in gers, surviving on meat and jerky accumulated during spring, summer, and autumn.

This is because the sun sets early.

Being close to Siberia, the Mongolian steppe sees early sunsets in winter.

When the sun disappears, nothing can be done on the Mongolian steppe.

With horse dung barely sufficient for keeping warm in winter, they couldn’t afford to light fires for illumination, so all they could do was sleep.

In a way, it was the perfect environment for building muscle.

During the day, I spent time riding horses, which served as cardio exercise.

At noon, I focused on strength training to build power.

In the evening, I continued hypertrophy training by enjoying a ball game with the children while riding horses, something similar to polo.

And with over 9 hours of sleep, my body recovered quickly, allowing Yesugei’s body to grow even larger than before.

Anyway, I needed to ride a horse to reach distant Burkhan Khaldun.

So I grabbed the horse’s reins and pulled firmly.

“Stop being difficult and listen, Eger.”

When I pulled, Eger collapsed.

I stared at the horse with a blank expression.

“…”

“…”

Munglig was just as surprised.

Even with exceptional human strength, it was nearly impossible for a human to knock down a horse, one of the strongest land animals.

Moreover, Mongolian horses were famous for their strength despite their gentle temperament.

Bringing down such a horse with one hand, not even both, was virtually impossible.

Yet it happened right before our eyes…

Both Munglig and I couldn’t help but be shocked.

“Brother…”

“Enough. I know I’ve grown stronger, but anyone can see this is just because the horse hasn’t eaten enough fodder and lacks strength.”

“Even so…”

“Stop talking nonsense and finish preparing to leave.”

Munglig nodded at my words.

I sighed looking at the fallen Eger, then mounted the horse.

Eger immediately stood up as I mounted.

Then he began behaving like a gentle lamb.

“What’s wrong with him?”

I felt like something was off.

It was strange that the horse was changing direction on its own without me pulling the reins.

As I pondered this, two women approached me.

Ho’elun and Sochigel came to see me off.

“Travel safely.”

“I will pray to Tengri and wait for my husband’s return.”

“I will return safely.”

The children approached between my farewell to my wives.

Temujin, Khasar, Khachiun, Bekhter, and Belgutei waved their hands to see me off.

“Travel safely, Father!”

“I pray for your victory in the Bokh, Father!”

“Don’t worry. Your father will return wearing a red cape on his shoulders.”

The red cape given to the victor of the Bokh.

Following the tradition of Daichi Tengri, the red war god, the winner of the Bokh was awarded a red cape.

The red cape.

It not only signified having strength comparable to Daichi Tengri, almost godlike, but also carried another meaning.

It meant being the ruler of the Khamag Mongol.

I intended to defeat the other khans, earn the red cape, and stand tall as the khan of the Khamag Mongol.