Chapter 186
Chapter 186
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.43 – The Knight Starts Anew (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Swordsmanship Department had been on hiatus lately.
Because the instructor had taken leave shortly after the ball ended.
- I'm just going to kill someone... no, handle some business. So you'll have to do self-training for a bit.
- Pardon?
- I've set up a training schedule for you. Just follow that. And you don't need to come to the academy while I'm gone. I'll mark you all present.
- ??
- Alright, see you in eight days.
...They felt like they'd heard something ominous, but they pretended not to notice.
They figured prying would just lead to nightmares.
And so, the Swordsmanship Department unexpectedly found itself with some time off...
Whoosh!
Whoooosh!
...Yet strangely, every single cadet in the department was gathered there.
The instructor was absent, but the cadets showed up on their own during class time and trained diligently in the department's training grounds.
If you asked why they bothered coming to the academy without an instructor, they'd probably say it was because of the "results" that came with the training.
Just completing the assignments the instructor had given each of them led to real growth, a profound sense of fulfillment, and an exhilarating thrill. How could they slack off?
It was a time of rapid growth.
They were proving the instructor wasn't just envious when he said, "You're young, so you're growing like weeds."
First off, the noble young ladies—nicknamed the chick squad—had now mastered basic joint locks and strikes.
They sparred among themselves, and knight candidate cadets who were far stronger than them helped out.
They'd also learned simple martial techniques like throwing arts and single-stick fighting. The instructor had praised them, saying that if mastered properly, they'd be able to subdue an average adult man single-handedly. Emboldened by that, the young ladies didn't hesitate to sweat today either.
No one among the nobility would normally cheer for noble ladies to sweat, but after half a year of watching their bodies grow healthier, even they no longer hesitated to break a sweat.
"I asked our family knights to spar, and they were shocked. Said I had impressive skills."
"Hehe, same here. But Mother nearly had a fit."
"Of course she did. But I can't stop now."
"I know exactly what you mean."
Of course, it wasn't just health. Seeing tangible results from their efforts was the real driving force pushing the girls to keep going.
They weren't ready to hunt monsters yet, but someday, they'd set their sights on taking down even one.
In contrast to the girls focusing on techniques, the bear cubs had bulked up dramatically from their physical conditioning. Their forearms had thickened, their shoulders broadened, and their thighs grew as sturdy as a horse's.
The instructor had ordered them all to master "Indestructible" before graduation.
He'd said that alone would keep them from dying anywhere, making it an essential task.
Of course...
"I-is this... right...?"
"No choice."
"Instructor said it's the fastest way, so bear with it."
"D-damn it!"
The training methods were brutal.
Every day, they beat their own bodies with clubs or heavy wet towels, or begged others to pummel them mercilessly. It hurt, but they swallowed their tears knowing these crude methods yielded incredible efficiency.
If there were no results, it might be different, but their bodies changed daily. Pain or no pain, they had no choice but to continue.
Steady, unwavering effort day after day inevitably brought results.
These former weaklings and weeds were undoubtedly growing stronger, and they couldn't stop.
No one turns down the drug of growth.
And in stark contrast were the young masters.
Born different, and through Fighting Techniques, on a whole other level from the rest. Their assignments from the instructor were just basic strength and endurance training, posture correction, and more sparring.
...Plus serving as his punching bags occasionally. Their training was utterly ordinary.
Yet the results from that mundane routine were anything but.
"I... I beat a family knight in a spar..."
"Unbelievable, but I—Modred—got an enlistment offer from the knights..."
"Wh-what?"
Did the instructor say it at the start?
That their foundations were lacking?
Fill those gaps, and they'd grow several times stronger.
It was true...
After more than half a year of the instructor's schedule, they'd suddenly become several times stronger.
Strong enough for offers from prestigious knight orders.
A dream come true for them.
Over sixty percent of the young masters had received enlistment offers from various knight orders. For those whose goal was knighthood from the start, they could drop out of the academy and join right now.
They'd entered the academy to join elite orders in the first place. Mission accomplished—no need to keep attending.
...Or so it should have been.
"But why turn down enlistment? Seems a waste."
"You're one to talk, No. 12..."
"Y-you call me that even when it's just us...?"
Surprisingly, none who got offers quit the academy.
It'd be a lie to say they weren't thrilled at first, dying to join immediately.
But as time passed and cooler heads prevailed, they realized jumping in now was a bad move.
"We're still seriously lacking."
They knew.
Enlistment didn't mean full knight status—it'd be as probationary squires.
And training wouldn't be as free; it'd be dictated by the order.
'They want our future selves, not who we are now.'
'Training won't be as flexible.'
'...We might even regress.'
Joining now might feel good short-term, but they'd be stuck at the bottom, training controlled for ages.
Not what they wanted during their growth spurt. Better to join with skills solid enough to claim a spot instantly.
For example...
"We need at least Top Three level."
"...A distant goal."
The department's Top Three.
Only then could they stand tall in any knight order.
So instead of celebrating luck now, they needed to train steadfastly under the instructor.
It might take time, but rewards were certain.
The conviction that tomorrow's self would be better than today's.
And so, the cadets filming their "youth academy drama" sweated pearls for a better today than yesterday.
...And on the flip side.
"Huh? Why is everyone here?"
"Assistant Instructor Damian?"
"...You're all so diligent. Rare break, and you're not even resting."
There was one boy filming a "bleak tragedy" solo.
Damian Pollet.
His hollow eyes and weary face stared at them with utter exasperation, same as always.
If he had eight days off, he'd absolutely...
"I'd sleep five hours a day..."
"N-not eight?"
"...Eight hours? ...Can people even sleep that much?"
"......"
"...Two hours a day would make me happy. ...Well, I used to sleep eight back in the day. Good times..."
"......"
...Sometimes, he seemed the most pitiful.
He'd started off seeming arrogant and clueless, but now he handled everything in the instructor's stead.
The instructor could take eight days off precisely because he'd "loaned" Damian to the other instructors and professors. How cruel was that?
"...Don't look at me like that. You get used to it, and it's manageable."
"Doesn't look manageable at all..."
"......"
"I-if you're sad, wag your carrot or something. I'll help however I can..."
"...You bastard!"
Pity stung Damian, twisting his face.
He wasn't someone to be pitied!
This was all...!
"Because of that damn beast..."
"...May I ask who that beast is?"
"Who else but that guy?!"
"W-watch your mouth, Assistant Instructor Damian. If someone hears, it could be bad."
"I trust you won't snitch to that beast. You're not that rotten, selling out a peer."
"True enough."
"That's why I'm saying this. Just thinking of what that beast—no, that monster—did to me boils my blood...!"
Damian looked ready to vent his grievances properly.
People badmouth royalty when they're not around, too.
Pendragon was no exception, and Damian went all in...!
Chomp!
"......Huh?"
For a moment, Damian couldn't process it.
Something brutish had suddenly grabbed his ankle.
One more squeeze, and it'd burst like a water balloon. His face froze.
But,
"-Assistant Instructor punk. Talking behind my back? Must be bored lately?"
"!!!?"
As if proving worst could get worse, color drained from his face.
...A familiar voice.
No, an infernal whisper that haunted his nightmares.
Damian wanted to deny reality.
Sploooosh!
But the next instant forced it on him.
He felt his ankle like a fish tail, vision flipping as his head slammed the ground. Dangling helplessly, he saw it.
The grinning beast's face...
"I-instructor...! Why are you coming out of the ground?!"
"Dug a tunnel from home."
"...Why?"
"Body was stiff, so I loosened up."
"...I know your place is dozens of kilometers from the academy."
"So?"
"...You're insane."
Dialogue was pointless.
Blood rushing to his head, Damian was too dumbfounded for words. The instructor, back after eight days, clearly had plenty to say to him.
Especially.
"More importantly, Assistant Instructor. Got something to say to me?"
"...Pardon?"
"What happened to you while I was gone? You look bloated. Bold as hell badmouthing me—"
"Ah......"
The surreal situation made Damian forget his folly momentarily, falling silent.
His mind raced through scenarios.
Of this beastly instructor ever forgiving him.
But...
"...No mercy even if I beg, right?"
"Nope."
"...Knew it."
No matter how he racked his brain, only grim fate awaited. Damian, knowing the instructor well, went serene as an enlightened monk.
—Not a bad life.
He flashed a hearty, carefree grin.
...
"This guy's always play-dead at the drop of a hat."
As if he were a pocket mouse or something.
Lee Han dropped the grinning, fainted guy casually.
No sense holding him and causing misunderstandings.
"H-he's not dead, right?"
"...He's fine."
See? Misunderstandings already.
"Instructor, when did you... No, how did you come from underground..."
Thankfully, Damian's presence faded fast.
Nothing registers when the instructor bursts from the earth like that.
And at his disciples' reactions.
"Wanna go in?"
"...Pardon?"
"It's pretty spacious inside."
"......"
...Was "Sweet, want me to bury you?" just their imagination?