Unity (1)
Once the meeting with Daniel was over, Leon and the others stepped outside.
Since they were already out, Leon decided to skip the morning classes entirely and start from the afternoon session. The theoretical lectures held in the morning had looked thoroughly dull anyway, and he had no desire to sit through them.
"Sounds like a solid plan."
"Agreed."
Carotin and Celia nodded without hesitation.
"I… think I'll go. If I miss even one class, catching up later gets rough… Being a mage and all…"
As a mage, Liana needed the theory lessons far more than the martial students did, so she peeled off. Even if she hadn't been the model student type, attending class was the normal thing to do.
"Nobody's stopping you. Go on."
"Okay…"
Looking strangely deflated, Liana hurried off toward the classroom. She was still stewing over the previous day — over how she had failed to cut off the enemy's escape route and let the branch burn.
Tsk. Do I really have to spell something like that out?
Leon had no idea, but Liana had heard every word of his muttered remark back then. It was still lodged deep in her chest. She had never known that disappointing someone could feel this awful.
Next time… I won't fail.
Liana quietly steeled herself and kept walking.
"…"
Once she was gone, the remaining three locked eyes at the same moment. Without a word, they drifted around behind the building, killed time smoking, grabbed lunch together, and headed off to afternoon class.
That afternoon, at Elprime Academy's First Training Ground.
Every cadet of Class A had gathered after lunch, along with Instructor Cheren. Freshly changed into training gear, the students' eyes shone with eager light. All of them were looking forward to their first lesson under the Ice Crystal Sword.
"…"
Cheren possessed striking beauty, but her sharp eyes and severe expression cast a distinctly cold image. As she swept the cadets with that frigid gaze, they instinctively shrank back.
She looked them over once with no particular intent, then opened her mouth.
"Cadets. What do you believe is the foundation of a martial artist?"
One student answered in a voice thick with fighting spirit.
"Stamina, ma'am!"
Cheren gave a single nod, as if she had been waiting for exactly that.
"Correct. Starting now, with Leon and Carotin at the front, form two lines and run the training ground. Begin."
She went straight for it?
The cadets tilted their heads and filed into place behind Leon and Carotin.
Ah, shit.
One look at Cheren's face and Leon cursed inwardly. He had a strong feeling that today was going to be nothing but stamina drills from start to finish. Breaking people in on day one was standard procedure, after all.
"Carotin. Keep your head on straight."
"…Your gut's acting up again, I take it. Understood."
Leon's bad premonition proved dead on.
One hour later.
"Faster!"
Fuck!
At Cheren's bark from behind, Leon pushed his pace even higher.
"Hah…! Hah…!"
Ragged breathing rasped beside him. Carotin's face had gone the color of a rabid dog.
"Hup, hup! Hoo, hoo!"
Leon had the kind of stamina that could throw Esabel into a panic with a flurry of consecutive strikes. Even he was barely holding a two-two breathing rhythm, clinging to a consciousness that kept threatening to slip away.
If those two were struggling, the cadets trailing behind them needed no description.
"Hah, hah — Mother…!"
"Hic! Guh! Guh!"
"Bleeaaargh!"
Students cried out for their parents and their gods, eyes rolling back as they choked for air, retching by the dozen. Cheren kept steadily raising the pace without mercy. Leon was certain they had already circled the training ground more than a hundred times.
Do I need to summon a stamina demon or something?
Cheren's training was vicious enough to inspire thoughts like that.
"Kiana! Don't move your mana!"
The moment anyone so much as stirred their mana, she caught it with uncanny precision.
"Teron! Good work. Step out!"
She read every cadet's limit exactly, wringing them dry to the last drop before pulling them off.
"Uuuuugh…"
Those who dropped out collapsed like corpses right beside the track, lacking even the strength to go drink water. They couldn't so much as twitch a finger.
Only about five remained on the track now, including Leon and Carotin.
"Faster!"
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Leon kicked into something close to a full sprint. It went without saying — even without using mana, an Expert-rank martial artist's run was embarrassingly faster than any ordinary person's. At this pace, he could probably crack a six-second hundred meters without breaking a sweat.
Thud-da-da-dak!
His legs spun hard enough to leave afterimages, his body stretching out in long, driving strides.
"Hah… Leon…!"
"Slow down…!"
The top-ranked Class A cadets who had been barely hanging on behind him started falling away. Cheren drew her sword and jabbed them in the back.
"You can still run! Don't you dare quit!"
And how the hell would you know that?!
"Ack!"
"Ugh, ugh!"
The cadets, boiling with complaints, yelped at the sharp sting in their backs and scrambled to pick up their feet. If they stopped, she looked ready to actually run them through. If they didn't want holes in their backs, they had to keep running.
Ten minutes later.
"Carotin! Out!"
Even Carotin, who had stuck to Leon's side to the bitter end, finally dropped. Now Leon was the only one left on the track.
"Hup, hup! Instructor! Hoo, hoo! I think I've hit — hup, hup! — my limit too! Hoo, hoo!"
"You've still got breath to talk. You're nowhere near done. Run."
Goddamn it!
Leon shuddered at Cheren's flat refusal. His heart was hammering so hard his entire chest felt ready to split open. His thighs and calves burned as if set on fire. Feeling had long since left his feet, and the sweat pouring into his eyes made it hard even to keep them open.
Had anyone ever driven him this hard before? Even Leon, who had trained eight hours a day, felt as though he were meeting his own limits all over again.
I used to be proud of my stamina…
His vision blurred. Strength drained from his body, and his balance started to give. The temptation to just collapse and rest kept whispering at him.
Then Cheren's razor-edged words cut through his eardrums.
"Pathetic. Giving up?"
"And you still call yourself a martial artist?"
"Are your legs broken? Have your lungs burst? Have your muscles torn?"
"If not — then why the hell are you quitting?"
Why… quit?
Why did those words cut sharper than the tip of the sword pressing against his back?
Something boiled up inside him. Instead of the urge to stop, a new emotion shoved its way in. Every ache in his body suddenly felt cheap and small.
Fine… Let's see who breaks first!
If I'm going to be the protagonist, I've got to handle at least this much, right?
A crimson light flashed in Leon's eyes.
Some teachers guide their students with encouragement and care. Others drive them with the whip. Cheren Asonia belonged firmly to the latter camp.
And when the whip comes down, some people flinch and shrink. Others catch fire with rage and push back. The original Leon Crusif had been the former — a boy who needed a single warm word of support, not a stinging rebuke.
The Leon standing here now was the latter. The more you pressed him, the harder he shoved back. A man who only grew more stimulated no matter what condemnation or pain you threw at him.
"Stop."
Thud!
The instant the word left Cheren's mouth, Leon's body crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. He gasped for air as if half-dead — but his eyes burned fiercely alive.
"…"
Cheren looked down at him in silence for a moment, then spoke again.
"Everyone up."
The collapsed cadets lifted their heads with what little strength they had left.
"Draw your swords. From this moment — one hundred downward strikes. Begin."
The cadets doubted their own ears. Had they misheard? They could barely stand on two legs, and she wanted them to lift swords and cut?
"Whaaat?!"
"Instructor, come on…"
"How are we supposed to do that…!"
Complaints erupted from every direction. The voices of the gently raised nobles rang loudest of all.
"Stamina matters, sure, but isn't this excessive?"
"Is a crude method like this even going to help?"
Then the remarks started crossing the line.
"I'm filing a complaint with the Acad—"
Every barking voice cut off at once.
"…"
"…"
"…"
A silence fell over the grounds as if ice water had been dumped across them — a silence that raised goosebumps. All because of one man quietly pushing himself upright.
Leon. The one who had run the longest. The one who hadn't rested a second longer than the cadets who had dropped out ages ago.
"…"
Without a word, he forced his violently trembling body to its feet. His legs shook so hard they looked ready to snuff out like a candle in the wind.
"Hoo…"
A thin breath escaped him. His eyes gleamed. With a soft rasp of steel, he drew his sword on arms that still convulsed.
Everyone forgot even to breathe as they watched him. Someone swallowed hard — the dry click rang out like thunder.
"That guy…"
Cheren raised a hand and firmly sealed the mouth of a cadet about to start babbling.
"…"
Leon slowly closed his eyes.
Sensation had been gone for a long time. He couldn't even feel how his muscles moved. The only thing driving his body now was sheer will. A physique driven to its absolute limit had pushed his spirit to a matching extreme.
Draw the sword. Take the stance.
Slowly, Leon's body reshaped itself to his will. He stirred the mana sleeping in his dantian.
Wooooong!
The mana answered its master's call with joyous turbulence. With his body numb, the mana felt clearer than it ever had before.
Goooooh!
Leon slowly spread the mana through every circuit in his body. The pulsing energy stood ready to transform at his command.
Downward strike.
The most basic motion a sword could make. The foundation of foundations — something any swordsman had performed thousands, tens of thousands of times.
Down… ward strike.
To come down, you first had to go up.
Slowly — his blade rose. The motion was agonizingly deliberate, yet every gaze stayed locked on the tip of the sword as if entranced. A focus bordering on killing intent. The presence radiating from Leon, sunk deep into a state of no-self, dominated the entire field.
Then his sword reached its peak.
I cut… down.
At his will, mana and body moved as one.
Like falling dew — pure and clear. Like a setting sun — smooth and gentle. Simple, and beautiful because of it. A single line connecting heaven and earth. The blade carved a graceful arc through space.
A shiver ran through every cadet who witnessed that downward strike. A thrilling current raced up their spines.
"…"
The corner of Cheren's mouth lifted, just barely.
"Haa…"
When Leon opened his eyes, a vast sense of elevation washed through him. His field of vision felt wider. The world looked sharper. The vessel of his dantian had expanded, and he could feel every single strand of mana flowing through his circuits.
For years, Leon had stagnated at the lower-middle ranks of Expert. With the enlightenment of that single strike, he finally broke through — ascending to the middle rank of Expert.