Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.3 – Crown Princess Isis, Not the Heroine
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Whoosh! Whoooosh!
The sharp sound of slicing through the air.
With about a 50kg iron ball fixed to the end of an iron rod, swinging it like a sword produced a heavy, deadly noise.
Getting hit by that would probably kill even a wild boar in one strike.
However, this seemingly impressive training method had a massive drawback.
Crack, craaack!
It wrecked your wrists, elbows, shoulders, waist—basically every part of your body.
Normal swords weigh 1-1.5kg.
Heavy ones can exceed 5kg, but generally, no one uses swords that are too heavy.
The reason is simple.
Swing it wrong, and your whole body gets destroyed.
You could end up crippled mid-swing.
Even swinging slowly, there's over a 90% chance of becoming disabled if you're not careful.
This was one of the extreme training methods Lee Han had named Indestructible Training.
"Huuuuh!"
The first time he tried it, he'd nearly become half-crippled for real.
He was shocked by the weight and realized how insane it was to swing it.
But Lee Han didn't give up. He started with 5kg, gradually increased the weight, and slowly adapted to both the load and the training.
Now, he could handle a combined 60kg from the rod and ball.
It was a true victory for humanity.
...Well.
Snap.
"Ah, broke again."
Sometimes his elbow or wrist would snap like this.
Full-Body Destruction Exercise.
That was the other ridiculous name Lee Han had given this training.
After immediately chugging down massive amounts of nutrients and resting, his body finally recovered to some extent.
Bones and muscles healed quickly, but tendons and joints took over two hours even with troll regeneration.
The only person who'd seen this training was his sole acquaintance in the knights' order, Jake, and Jake had reacted like this:
'Are you trying to kill yourself? What kind of insane training is this...?'
—with gestures and horror that could hurt one's feelings.
Was it that bad?
'...Yeah, probably.'
Even he thought this training method was a bit much at times.
With only troll regeneration to rely on, it was risky enough to cripple him.
But he did it anyway because the results were visible: dramatically strengthened muscles and skeleton.
Take that guy Yord from yesterday as an example.
To counter someone who freely wielded flashy, quick sword auras, Lee Han would've needed the skill to deflect or parry attacks with his sword—but he didn't have that finesse.
He just blocked them head-on like a brute.
Yet he took frontal attacks without a scratch, and his hands didn't even tremble.
What was the reason?
'This training helped.'
No matter how heavy the blow, his muscles and bones had become elastic and tough enough to absorb and redirect the shock entirely.
A body that might as well be bulletproof.
Recently in spars with Baltar, he could now withstand twenty strikes—up from barely ten before.
A breakthrough achievement...
"Achievement my ass... I still get my butt kicked."
Stretching his recovered body, Lee Han scowled fiercely.
Thinking of Baltar, who still overwhelmingly outclassed him, just pissed him off.
What had the old man said?
—Hoh, you've become a bit more resilient of a sandbag. Good boy. Is this your way of letting me enjoy the feel of my fists? Heh heh.
If that wasn't mockery, what was?
That yokai-like geezer...!
"Time to up the weight?"
Increase the rod's weight, or extend time on other training methods?
He pondered deeply.
No path to victory against that old man came to mind.
But if he could surpass him in even one area, there was a chance for a big hit.
Toughness.
If his already sturdy durability got even stronger, and he could keep charging without his body going limp from hits, then maybe a counterstrike...!
"Ow!"
Thud.
"......"
"Eek, sorry. I didn't mean to bother you—I tripped."
"...Are you okay, miss? Your knees—no, your face?"
"Hehe, yeah, I'm fine, sir knight. Luckily, my body's tough. I even took an iron mace to the gut once and came out unscathed, hehe."
"...I see."
...Where to even start critiquing that?
Should he worry about the spot that got hit, or ask for survival tips?
Lee Han gave an awkward look to the unexpected guest he'd unintentionally taken in.
The day before, Crown Princess Isis had said:
She had a favor to ask—though it was basically an order.
But Lee Han replied:
"I refuse. I've been working so hard to avoid getting tangled with nobles like you all. Why drag me into your sister's mess?"
"...How heartless. There are hordes who'd gladly lay down their lives for my 'request.'"
"Then ask those guys. I'm not sacrificing my life."
His attitude was heartless to the point of arrogance.
But Lee Han was firm, unusually tough and cold.
"You've used me once already. Who do you think I am, some real hunting dog?"
This was a warning.
Even if she was the heir to the throne, surrounded by powerhouses, don't underestimate him.
Why was Lee Han getting stronger?
To avoid bending, to not live like in his previous life.
"Sister—no, Your Highness Crown Princess. If you're seeing me not as a sworn brother but as a dog to use, you've come to the wrong place. Right now, I'd quit being a knight or whatever in a heartbeat. I follow you now because your power scares me and we have a connection. But cross that 'line,' and power or connections mean nothing. I'll smash it all, so keep that in mind."
"......"
It was sincere, a declaration of willingness to fight with his life on the line.
Feeling that, Isis's delicate brow twitched irritably.
"Insolent brat. Nothing you won't say to your sister."
"Sisters should act like sisters."
"...Think you'll win an argument with a lady?"
"I hate sexism. Gender equality's great, right?"
"......You hopeless punk."
In the end, Isis was the first to back down.
Born with extraordinary talent, she'd lived 40 years ruling from above.
Few would act so shamelessly before her.
...Still.
"Fine, a man needs that kind of spirit."
"...?"
For some reason, she seemed to admire Lee Han.
"A true knight doesn't bend to power. He fights the rulers to walk the righteous path. A fine stance befitting my sworn brother, hoho."
"...Was this some kind of test?"
"Of course."
"......"
"Don't look at me like that. In my position, I must test everyone—sworn brother, blood kin, or limb alike."
"...You live a tough life, really."
"The fate of a monarch."
Right now, Isis had been testing Lee Han.
Had he accepted her request—or order—blindly, she would've been disappointed.
Seen him as a lowly sycophant fawning over power.
Of course, even branded lowly, she wouldn't have discarded him.
As he'd said, she'd have used him well as a hunting dog.
Only to discard him later like a used-up hound.
'What a vicious woman.'
"Enough of that glare. My ears are itching."
"I said 'mi-nyeon.' Means a beautiful woman. A compliment."
"Hmm, to me it feels like there's a 'bitch' in the middle."
"Misunderstanding. Total misunderstanding."
"Shameless."
He'd openly insulted royalty, but Isis didn't rebuke him.
A would-be monarch must brush off criticism and contempt like breathing.
Still.
Smack.
"A knight shouldn't insult a lady, you fool."
"Nice wrist snap."
This much of a flick to a sworn brother was fine.
Isis's face was stern, but somehow the softest expression she'd shown today.
"—Then let me say it again. This isn't an order, just a genuine [proposal], and I really want you to hear me out."
"...Fine, I'll listen."
The request continued.
This time, knowing it wasn't an order, Lee Han obliged.
Her bending her pride was like making an Italian admit pineapple pizza is the best—huge.
Best to humor her a bit.
"I said two favors, but in a way, both requests I have are similar."
Thwack.
"...Why's tomorrow's paper here?"
"Power."
"Tch, you power-hungry types."
Flutter.
Lee Han unfolded the newspaper she handed him.
Opening and reading without questions pleased Isis.
She hated the clueless more than the dull.
He was sharp and not dull in these matters.
Soon, Lee Han paused at a certain page.
News that should've dominated the front page was buried on the tenth.
Clearly the royals' influence. He pointed at it.
"...Is the favor you mentioned related to this lady or that cocky-looking young master?"
"Why think that?"
"They're the only ones in positions you can't touch easily."
"Spot on. But to correct you, if I wanted, I could take their heads anytime. It'd just be a hassle."
"Sure, sure, you're amazing."
Smack!
The fan scorched his crown like flying embers, but Lee Han stayed nonchalant.
It wouldn't hurt him even from an Aura User—let alone a fan.
Instead, he read the paper aloud.
"Irene Windler, Roan Dimitri de Lionel."
Irene Windler was a blooming 19-year-old mage from the lower class, recently admitted as top of the academy's magic department, and reportedly up for adoption by Duke Galahad.
The other, Roan or whatever, was the youngest son of the Lionel Grand Duke's family—called the King of the North—but a bastard, so low succession odds, and top admittee to the swordsmanship department.
Pendragon affiliates, yet Duke Galahad and Grand Duke Lionel maintained bitterly hostile relations with the royals.
Now their foster daughter and bastard son entered the capital—Pendragon's heart—and the academy.
Earth-shaking big news for the capital.
Not front-page meant the royals wanted to downplay them.
And sure enough.
"If I could, I'd kill them."
"...Word is, both Galahad and Lionel have royal blood mixed in, no?"
"My cousins or second cousins, perhaps."
"You want to kill your own family?"
"Would you do it if I asked?"
"......No."
"Hmph, too bad."
...Vicious woman.
Smack.
He grumbled again, and the fan struck his crown once more.