Chapter 23
Chapter 23
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: They're Mistaken
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The preliminary training camp was surrounded on all sides by territory outside the domain, serving also as a sort of forward outpost.
Outside the domain, in the eerie forest of twisted trees—uuu—the particularly large tree jutted sharply against the blue sky.
Junior Baron Harun Basio took in the sky and trees visible through the window and asked,
“How do you think it’ll go? Kang Geohan.”
Behind him, Kaltz and Rapal stood at ease.
Rapal answered first.
“I’m certain most of the instructors will get dismal scores. Some instructors are already planning to boot them out for failing the minimum score.”
The evaluation of Kang Geohan was running at rock bottom.
Just half a month. An insignificant time in society, but in the training camp where every move was scrutinized, half a month felt like a lifetime.
Even though his early exploits had been impressive, half a month of indolence was more than enough to flush that good impression down the toilet.
“So, what’s your take?”
“Pardon?”
“Not what others say—your own thoughts.”
Rapal fell silent for a moment before speaking.
“I… can’t really imagine that guy losing to anyone.”
“Is that so? Even though this test is heavily stacked against serf-born candidates?”
“…It’s just a gut feeling. Not really rational judgment.”
“Keuk. Because he beat you twice?”
“Ah, no, sir.”
Rapal’s face flushed red.
Baron Basio chuckled at the sight. But his expression soon hardened. He muttered,
“Honestly… I don’t like him.”
The training camp’s program had been refined through countless trials and errors.
Whatever Kang Geohan was thinking, his actions were tantamount to mocking the entire time-honored training regimen.
‘At first, when I heard he’d passed out… I thought it could happen.’
No matter how brilliant the talent, he was serf-born. Tossed into a sudden new environment, putting on that show and drawing undue expectations—he could faint once or twice.
But as it dragged on for half a month, everything became clear.
‘Skipping training on purpose… with that talent, that fine Giant, and such rotten grit.’
As someone bearing the title of training camp director, Junior Baron Basio was a stickler for principles and rules.
He had never once broken them, and that’s precisely why a freedman like him had risen to the rank of junior baron.
For him, Kang Geohan was intolerable.
“I agree with the others. Even if he pulls off some trick to overcome his background and snag a top spot… I plan to expel him.”
Rapal White gasped.
He glanced sideways at Kaltz. Everyone at the camp knew Kaltz was closely tied to Kang Geohan.
But Kaltz showed no reaction, lost in thought.
“We look at growth potential too. A guy battling for first or second dropping to the top fifteen is regression, plain and simple. That’s how I’ll handle it on my authority. What do you think? Kaltz?”
Junior Baron Basio fixed a piercing gaze on Kaltz. There was a hint of resentment in his eyes. He’d been a promising talent. The kid who’d finally sparked Kaltz’s interest after years of apathy.
But why… had Kaltz let that kid slack off like this?
Kaltz, who had been silent, finally spoke.
“Do as you see fit.”
“What’s that mean? That I can expel him as I please? Or that Kang Geohan will pull something off even now?”
Kaltz closed his eyes briefly, then opened them to reply.
“I don’t think he’s slacking out of laziness.”
“Then?”
“…Just do as you see fit. If he can’t surprise the director… that’s that.”
“Ha, what could surprise me at this point?”
Harun Basio laughed coldly.
* * *
Blue sky.
Rumble.
Hiss—!
And the Giants rising with momentum enough to lift that sky.
All seventy-eight trainees gathered in the mobility training field.
Rapal White stood on a Giant’s palm and explained the evaluation format.
“In the first prelim, a free-for-all, we’ll drop fourteen. That leaves exactly sixty-four, paired into thirty-two matches for a durability tournament.”
The free-for-all pitted all seventy-eight against each other at once.
“The rules are simple. Ganging up is fine. A Giant’s back hits the ground, it’s out. But taking out one in a one-on-one gives bonus points. Scores accumulate by surviving longer through the prelims and tournament stages.”
Simple rules, but full of loopholes.
“Of course, this setup disadvantages loners or those with bad matchups. So we’ve got absolute evaluations too. If you’re unhappy with your score, challenge an instructor for a durability duel. We score based on how long you last against them. Open to prelim dropouts and tournament losers alike. But make no mistake—scoring off an instructor won’t be easy. Fall below standard, and you’ll lose points.”
Durability duel.
Like most camp drills, it was brutally straightforward.
Trading blows to the cockpit until one staggers back two steps or collapses.
Against an instructor? Fainting was guaranteed.
-Gulp.
The comms crackled with nervous swallows.
Rapal White scanned the tense trainees. His gaze lingered briefly on Kang Geohan’s Giant, Pectoralis, then moved on.
“Alright! Form up!”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The instructors’ Giants, led by Rapal White, spread out.
In the vast mobility field, seventy-eight training Giants formed a circle, facing off.
Gerot Yellow’s mocking voice blared over the public channel to all trainee Giants.
-Hmph. Kang Geohan, was it? Rotten-grit serf scum. Won’t even pass the first prelim.
Gerot still looked down on serfs. But this time, no one bit back.
Even serf-born trainees who hated Gerot nodded quietly. Public sentiment against Kang Geohan had hit bottom.
In the free-for-all, he’d be the first target. Gerot’s taunt baited that.
But Kang Geohan didn’t flinch. He took in all seventy-seven other Giants, steadying his breath and sharpening focus.
[Kang Geohan]
Height: 176cm
Weight: 55kg
Willpower: 81/81
Strength: 31/31
Mana: 30/30
Fat Mass: 5.07kg
Muscle Mass (Skeletal): 20.11kg
Magical Essence: 287 pindem
Condition: Peak.
Abilities built enduring blatant scorn, widespread doubt, and disappointment.
When everyone despised and turned against him, this was all he could trust. No averting eyes—face it head-on.
In the end, only he could prove himself right.
Then, a private comm pinged in.
-Kang Geohan! You… were trying to make up lost conduct and endurance scores with other metrics, right? Figured your own training was better. That’s why you only ate monster meat instead of mess hall slop.
Loen Yellow. Quick on the uptake, and the trainee who’d spent the most time with him.
Even when everyone shunned him, she’d chatter away after drills.
-But enemies are everywhere now. You’ll drop in round one before showing your stuff. So… stick behind me when it starts! We’ll fight together.
Kang Geohan thought: What a nosy, loyal friend.
He smiled and replied.
-No need. Don’t want you getting hurt.
-Aw, c’mon. It’s me, Loen. Top-of-the-camp contender! Helping you won’t risk me.
And still brimming with sky-high confidence.
Then another voice joined the private channel.
-Kang Geohan. It’s Harkrux… Hate that everyone’s gunning for you. Whatever you’ve been up to, your skills are legit. I’ll back you in the prelim. Survive, and show us what you got. You were awesome back then, right?
This was unexpected. Harkrux, barely spoken to. Never figured he’d step up.
He’d approached wanting friendship before… guess half a month hadn’t changed that.
Not a bad feeling, honestly.
Kang Geohan grinned back at them.
-I’m fine. Worry about yourselves.
-What? Dude, solo you’ll…!
-But…!
Loen and Harkrux started to protest Kang Geohan’s response, but Rapal White gave trainees no such leeway.
“Alright! Let’s begin!”
The instant Rapal’s voice cut through, drowning theirs—
Thud! Thud-thud-thud!
Six Giants flanking Kang Geohan whirled and charged him at once.
The massive Giants barreling in filled his view like an avalanche, suffocating.
-Take that punk first!
-Guy who skips drills!
-Know how brutally we trained while you goofed?!
-Your moves’ll be all off!
Kang Geohan bared his teeth in a grin at the sight.
‘You’re all mistaken.’
Mobility training. Crucial, sure. The harsher the drills, the more a Giant feels like your own body—straight to combat power.
But,
‘Far more important is magical essence.’
Reason humans transcend limits. Far greater than muscle!
Ultimately, a Giant Rider begins and ends with magical essence.
No essence, no moving the Giant, no drawing its full output.
And ‘properly’ wielding essence equates to properly handling the Giant.
‘Besides, I did the bare minimum mobility training just like you lot.’
Huuuuup!
Kang Geohan inhaled deep, maxing abdominal pressure.
Mana poured in freely, swelling essence thickly around his waist.
What he’d focused on: abs, waist, core essence.
Origin point of athleticism!
Output surged, heavy pressure bearing down—but solid core held firm.
Not just that.
Hiss—!
Pectoralis vented steam.
Cockpit gears churned to the pulse of essence.
Clack-clack!
Core essence bulged, realigning armor plates around the waist, anchoring the center of mass solidly.
‘The Giant syncs with my body’s essence. Stronger core, stronger Giant core.’
Punch power from the legs, relayed lossless to fist by core, waist strength.
Like a tree rooted deep, heavy solid force loaded into Pectoralis’s fist.
Like an arrow nocked on a rigid bow, Pectoralis’s fist pierced the target.
KABOOM—!
The cannon-like impact echoed across the empty blue sky.
The lead charging Giant flew back from one iron fist, crashing.
Thud!
Ground shook.
“Bonus point one.”
Kang Geohan muttered softly, stepping forward.
Solid core shifts center of mass swift and easy—enabling explosive close-quarters steps.
Whoosh!
Pectoralis skimmed the ground like floating, slamming the second foe’s chest.
CLANG!
Sparks flew. Knees buckled, Giant toppled like a ragdoll.
“That’s all ’cause your core’s weak.”
Kang Geohan dropped low, grabbing the third charging Giant’s waist and flipping it over.
KABOOM!
Ground heaved, and the once-clogged view burst open to clear blue sky.
-Uh, uhh….
-That guy….
Trainees who’d charged Kang Geohan braked hard, at a loss. Situation flipped.
Kang Geohan still solo, but none dared approach easily.
The instant they did, dread of first-round elimination crushed their shoulders. Before such fear, numbers meant nothing.
Kang Geohan grinned at them.
“Magical essence is king.”
Beyond battle sense, pure physical gap.
287 pindem essence.
Meager next to Gerot’s 600+ or Helena’s 800+, but most trainees lingered at 120-150 pindem.
Exclude rich freedmen drilled as prodigies from youth—no trainee matched Kang Geohan in essence.
Mana handling? Never his equal from the start.
Kang Geohan had exploded ahead here most of all.
‘My training was right. Otherwise… catching freedmen who started miles ahead would be impossible.’
Despite skipping drills… no, because of it, Kang Geohan eyed beyond the top ranks.