If You Can
Meanwhile, at the academy.
“So there are some idiots who lost an eight-on-one fight to a little kid?”
At the mocking voice that drifted from somewhere, the seven cadets who had taken part in the training simulation against Haydam squeezed their eyes shut as if the words themselves hurt.
Ever since Haydam had thoroughly dismantled them in the simulation, the eight cadets who had participated had been subjected to daily ridicule from the rest of the student body.
Because Major General Meursault had ordered them to keep silent about the details of the exercise, not one of them would explain how they had lost—and that silence only made the scorn worse.
“That’s supposed to be our future valedictorian? Must’ve been riding daddy’s coattails the whole time.”
Platon took his share of the abuse as well, yet he went about his days exactly as before, clear-eyed and faintly manic.
“There’s no way Senior Platon would lose. The other seven must have dragged him down!”
Because the cadets who idolized Platon shifted all the blame onto the remaining seven, only those seven suffered even more.
Even if they tried to claim that Haydam had won by underhanded means, they feared everyone would simply call it the excuses of people who had lost to a child.
Conversely, those cadets who had recognized Haydam’s true ability kept quiet for much the same reason: any praise would be dismissed as a loser trying to inflate the winner’s reputation.
Simply for having lost to a little kid, they were mocked by the entire school. It was impossible not to feel miserable.
And then the next piece of news landed on them like a death sentence.
“…And so, until Lord Haydam joins the subjugation campaign, he will be training here at the academy with the rest of you for the time being.”
As the principal finished explaining, Haydam—standing on the dais beside him—spotted the seven and offered them a faint smile.
The seven cadets screamed inwardly.
No…!
The other students were already heaping plenty of blame on them. If they now had to train alongside that same Haydam for any length of time?
Outwardly Haydam looked every bit the small, angelic child. Once the rest of the cadets saw him in the flesh, the scorn directed at the seven would only intensify.
And it’s not as if Lord Haydam is going to shield us…
Haydam had no interest in them whatsoever. After the simulation he had taken everything he needed and walked away without a second glance.
The sole consolation was that Haydam’s ability was genuine; before long every cadet in the academy would stop treating defeat at his hands as a mark of shame.
…Whether it was truly a consolation that the academy’s cadets were inferior to a mere ten-year-old was another question entirely.
The principal continued.
“Technically this is more of a transfer than a formal admission… but given that he secured a complete victory in the recent training simulation, I believe his qualifications are more than sufficient. I trust none of you have any objections?”
At that, one of the cadets raised a hand.
The seven watched the smile at the corner of Haydam’s mouth twist slightly and silently offered the volunteer their condolences.
“You object to Lord Haydam’s transfer?”
The cadet who had raised his hand shook his head at the principal’s question, then spoke carefully.
“No, sir. I believe Lord Haydam’s qualifications are more than adequate.”
“Then?”
“There is something I would like to say to Lord Haydam here and now.”
He turned his gaze to Haydam, who looked mildly intrigued.
“To me?”
“Yes. There is one misunderstanding I hope you will not make.”
“A misunderstanding? What sort of misunderstanding?”
“Lord Haydam. The eight cadets who lost to you—they may well be idiots. But please understand this much: not every cadet at this academy is an idiot like them.”
“…….”
The other cadets stared straight at Haydam as if in full agreement. In front of the entire assembly, and right under Haydam’s nose, the seven who had just been branded idiots hung their heads in shame.
Public humiliation or not, it was still a fact that eight graduating cadets of the military academy had lost to a single ten-year-old.
Haydam’s reaction, however, was unexpected.
After studying the speaker for a long moment, he asked in a soft voice,
“Then let me ask you one thing… do all of you believe that, if it were you, you could defeat me?”
“Pardon?”
The unexpected question seemed to catch the cadet off guard, but he quickly recovered and answered with confident conviction.
“Of course.”
“Of course?”
“I do not say this out of disrespect for Lord Haydam. Any cadet who assumes defeat without even trying has no place in this academy.”
“Hmm.”
Haydam appeared to consider something for a moment, then looked out over the assembly.
“My father acknowledged me after only a single exercise… but it seems all of you require one more test. Someone who thinks I won by luck would never make a reliable comrade… so I intend to settle the matter cleanly here and now.”
“Settle what, exactly?”
“I will run another training simulation—not against cadets I choose, but against eight representatives chosen by all of you.”
“……!”
A murmur ran through the ranks.
The idea had already been circulating quietly among the cadets ever since the first simulation: select a new set of representatives and demand a rematch for the sake of their honor.
Even so, suggesting that a ten-year-old child fight a second round against full-grown cadets had felt a little too awkward to propose first. Now that Haydam himself had offered, they were almost grateful.
“One moment.”
Another cadet raised a hand.
“We appreciate the proposal itself. Making such a decision cannot have been easy, and we respect your resolve, Lord Haydam. But surely… you aren’t planning another one-versus-eight?”
Haydam gave a short laugh.
“So one-versus-eight is unacceptable this time?”
“Naturally! Facing you would be an honor, but winning eight-on-one would do nothing for our dignity. Lord Haydam plus the eight who already lost—nine in total—against eight representatives of the rest of us. Only then would it be a fair contest.”
“Your side is eight, and mine is nine?”
“Lord Haydam has not yet formally enrolled as a cadet of this academy.”
“…….”
The look of mild goodwill that had been in Haydam’s eyes a moment earlier cooled instantly. He still kept his manners, but his voice had turned distinctly colder.
“Let’s keep it a clean eight-versus-eight. Otherwise I’m certain you’ll claim afterward that I failed to pull my own weight.”
The sudden turn left the original seven cadets reeling.
What? We never agreed to this…
Another training simulation?
And we’re supposed to be on the same team as Lord Haydam?
All seven thought the exact same thing at once.
If we win this time, the mockery ends…!
Their faces brightened at the thought that their status as public sinners might soon be over—yet a few still looked bleak.
Because…
If we lose again…
They had already lost to Haydam once. A quiet suspicion had begun to grow that the defeat might truly have been their own lack of ability—so much so that some of them were starting to wonder whether they really had dragged Platon down. Their self-esteem was scraping rock bottom.
Then Haydam spoke again.
“Eight versus eight. But I’ll add one condition.”
At the mention of an extra condition, the ordinary cadets’ expressions said I knew it.
There must be a reason Lord Haydam insisted on one-versus-eight. Those fools probably got careless because they thought numbers gave them the edge—that’s why they lost. With equal numbers it’s a different story. We won’t let our guard down for a second. The fact that he’s adding a condition now proves it.
In person Haydam projected a composure that made it hard to believe he was only ten. Still, a child was a child. None of them could imagine actually losing to the cute boy standing before them, so they were fully prepared to accept whatever extra condition he set.
What came out of Haydam’s mouth, however, neatly kicked their expectations aside.
“The victory condition for my team will be that not a single person dies.”
“……Excuse me?”
The cadets blinked stupidly at the added stipulation.
“So… you’re saying you’ll count it as our victory only if none of us die?”
“The opposite, actually.”
Haydam tilted his head.
“The moment even one member of my team dies, you win. Whether you have only one person left standing or you plant the flag first—either way, you win.”
The original seven nearly choked.
We never agreed to that condition, Lord Haydam?!
The remaining cadets looked equally baffled.
The extra condition he just set… is a condition that disadvantages his own side?
They could not help asking.
“Are you looking down on us? Or are you deliberately setting an unreasonable condition so you’ll have an excuse when you lose?”
“Neither. Why do you assume I’m already planning for defeat…?”
Haydam regarded the cadet who had first spoken to him and said quietly,
“I’m not looking down on any of you. It’s simply that… any cadet who assumes defeat without even trying has no place in this academy. Isn’t that right, Cadet Lucas?”
“……!”
Lucas was startled that Haydam knew his name—but even more startled by the sheer presence radiating from the small child. It was not the presence of a boy who had not even enlisted yet.
Like a company commander out to drill some discipline into the ranks…
While Lucas was still dazed, another cadet stepped forward with a reply that was both acceptance and challenge.
“Very well. We intend to wipe out Lord Haydam’s team completely anyway.”
The others nodded in agreement. Haydam smiled brightly and answered in a brief, silken tone.
“If you can.”
“Lord Haydam is going to run another training simulation!”
The moment Meursault heard from the academy principal that Haydam intended to hold an eight-versus-eight exercise against the cadets, he raced straight to the Commander to report.
It was an urgent matter—yet the Commander only answered with the indifference of a man who had already expected it.
“You’re making a fuss.”
“A fuss? You have to stop him!”
Meursault pressed on urgently.
“Lord Haydam took a gunshot wound only a few days ago! Even if the injury was minor… a training simulation is not something you can simply run twice in a row as if it were light exercise.”
“We can hardly go around advertising that Haydam was shot outside the Zone, Meursault.”
A gag order had been placed on the gunshot incident. News that a warlord’s heir had been wounded beyond the Safe Zone could easily spiral into something far larger. The academy cadets had accepted Haydam’s proposal without knowing any of that.
The Commander spoke with his usual calm expression.
“Since we can’t mention the injury… forbidding the simulation at this point would only look suspicious.”
“That may be true, but—!”
“If Haydam accepted, that’s the end of it.”
“The ones who lost to him are going to be on his team! Some of them still hold a grudge—what if they deliberately throw the match?”
“It doesn’t matter. I think I understand what Haydam is thinking.”
“You understand that labyrinth of a mind?”
“Yes.”
The Commander gazed out the window in the direction of the academy.
“He knows how to stand above other people…”