Chapter 40
Chapter 40
Today, just like every other day, the disciples lined up across the grasslands.
"Good morning, everyone!"
And just like every other day, Boong-Boong's booming voice announced the arrival of another energetic morning.
"Haaaah... Have you all still not come to your senses?!"
If you're curious about just how loud he was, ask the local militia.
One of the guards who heard him yesterday came running over with a pale face, convinced something terrible had happened.
"The sun is already high in the sky..."
Bentley.
What exactly do you mean by that?
It's six in the morning.
Let the kids sleep.
"The fact that you're all dozing off proves you're not taking this seriously!"
Seriously, it was six in the morning.
"Honestly, kids these days..."
There he went again.
That constant "honestly, honestly."
And of course, he never missed a chance to imitate Master.
Still, Bentley was technically the oldest among us.
I should probably let it slide.
"Anyway, everyone. The vice-captain's morning address is not delivered without purpose!"
'...Hm?'
Since when was he the vice-captain?
Acting leader while Master recovered was one thing.
But an official title?
Surely that required approval from the captain himself.
"The future of the Kingdom of Bellark rests in our hands. Therefore, training the mind is just as important as training the body!"
Apparently another person besides the old man had started calling this peanut-sized territory a kingdom.
"As members of His Majesty's Royal Guard, we must be even more diligent in our mental discipline!"
And now someone else was calling Baron Eden "His Majesty."
'...'
Come to think of it, maybe some of the people in this territory should never leave.
Calling someone other than the Emperor "Your Majesty" in imperial territory sounded like a great way to get arrested.
Then again, both Master and Bentley were stubborn enough that they'd probably never stop.
...Thank goodness Bellark was in the middle of nowhere.
"But this vice-captain is not a cruel man. I hereby permit you all to sit comfortably while listening!"
Training hadn't even started yet and I was already exhausted.
I genuinely never knew Boong-Boong was this talkative.
His endless mental education sessions.
His subtle self-praise.
His lectures about chivalry that he'd picked up from who-knows-where.
Two hours of this every morning.
It was hell.
Honestly, the principal's speeches from my previous life were a hundred times better.
Those were boring, sure.
But they ended eventually.
This guy had no limits.
"Since enemies can appear from anywhere, one must always maintain vigilance..."
The enemy was already here.
It was called overwhelming sleepiness.
"...Tsk."
What even was this?
The others could at least use the time to refine their aura while half-listening.
I was a pure strength build.
For me, this was nothing but wasted time.
Master's lectures had always been brief, practical, and genuinely useful.
Listening to Bentley made me realize for the thousandth time that teaching was its own talent.
Which left me with only one option.
'...Patience.'
I passed the time by remembering pleasant things.
Good memories.
Happy moments.
How amazing yesterday's soup had tasted.
Anything to survive.
"Now then! Pick up your weapons and take your positions!"
The moment the lecture ended, his enthusiasm reignited.
Honestly, it was impressive at this point.
"...Yawn."
Unfortunately, actual training wasn't much more exciting.
Everything Bentley taught us had originally come from Master.
And we'd all attended those lessons together.
So this wasn't really learning.
It was repetition.
'This is painfully boring.'
At first I'd decided to play along for the sake of Bentley's pride.
But...
"Every sword style begins with mastering the fundamentals. Do not rely on unnecessary techniques. Simply copy my strikes exactly!"
Maybe it was because the curriculum had been designed by a fourteen-year-old.
Forget fun.
The efficiency was terrible.
This was basically:
Bentley's Personal Swordsmanship Seminar.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
At this point I wasn't just swinging my sword.
I was swinging away my sanity.
Maybe the thing I was really training was patience.
'Master won't be back for at least another month...'
Would my patience survive that long?
Maybe this was how an uncle felt while humoring a role-playing nephew.
"Hyaah! Hyaah!"
In situations like this, insanity was survival.
Or maybe I'd already gone insane.
"Hutcha-cha! Boong-Boong is a fool~"
Before boredom suffocated me completely, I entertained myself with meaningless battle cries.
Time dragged on endlessly.
I swung my sword hundreds of times while mindlessly following Bentley's instructions.
It was practically torture.
Yet despite all that...
"Good work today."
That single sentence immediately snapped me awake.
Freedom had finally arrived.
"Dismissed!"
As dusk settled across the training grounds, Bentley announced the end of training.
Patapatapat!
Every child bolted away twice as fast as when Master ended class.
And leading the charge...
Was me.
Help!
"Huff... huff..."
Today had genuinely been dangerous.
One more hour and I'd almost have thrown consideration out the window and started a fight.
But I couldn't relax yet.
The real battle started now.
I still had to drag my exhausted body all the way back to my room.
"...Good grief."
Was Bentley secretly a dark mage?
It felt like he'd cast some kind of debuff on me.
Why were my legs so heavy?
We'd done less than half of our usual training volume.
Yet my arms and legs felt like jelly.
'Maybe I'll rest for a bit.'
Unable to endure the aftereffects of that torture, my body slowly tilted toward the grass.
I sprawled beneath the sunset like a dried squid.
I had confidence in my stamina.
Mental exhaustion, however, was another matter entirely.
At this rate, I might actually fall asleep.
Just as I was considering an afternoon nap in the corner of the training grounds—
"Retreat! Retreat! Tactical retreat!"
Our youngest member, Ezekiel, came running toward me.
And he was crying.
"Hic! Ugh!"
Tears streamed down his face.
"K-Knights do not cry!"
What are you talking about?
You're literally crying right now.
Or was this some kind of self-own where he admitted he wasn't a knight?
More importantly, why did Ezekiel always run to me?
Maybe it started when I began playing along with his fantasies a couple of years ago.
Lately he always seemed to come find me after training.
'Well... I suppose it can't be helped.'
Honestly, I understood him a little.
"I shall never forget this humiliation!"
Reckless imagination.
Wild fantasies.
The sudden, unpredictable bursts of nonsense unique to Ezekiel.
"Why are you crying this time?"
I was probably the only person willing to entertain those things.
Master was too old to understand.
Eden was drowning beneath mountains of paperwork.
The other disciples mostly wondered what was wrong with the kid.
"Hic! I am not crying! And there has been slander! Evil forces have questioned my true identity! Over there! Over there!"
His trembling finger pointed toward the hill.
Standing there were Anna and Bentley, both wearing exasperated expressions.
They had probably told him to get a grip.
Apparently Ezekiel interpreted that as a conspiracy.
...I knew this would happen eventually.
Even for the youngest disciple, spending every day lost in delusions was bound to earn criticism.
"Evil forces? They're your sister and brother. They only want what's best for you."
"...Do they wish to become my subordinates?"
How did he arrive at that conclusion?
Was it childhood logic?
An early case of chuunibyou?
Who knew.
"I think they're more like friends and companions."
"Hmph. There is only one person worthy of guarding my back. Sir Sera!"
Sir Sera.
At some point, that had become Ezekiel's nickname for me.
An honorable title earned through countless occasions of responding to his random declarations of "They're coming!"
"Not only did they insult me, they insulted Leviathan, the enemy of my parents! And my fiancée, the princess of the neighboring kingdom, Bombravidongdongdongtang Horvatero Odyukgaejong!"
Hey.
Insulting your fiancée is one thing.
But why would you care if someone insulted your mortal enemy?
Was Ezekiel the type to get emotionally attached to his enemies?
Then again, his enemies changed every month.
First it was the Black Dragon.
Then the Gold Dragon.
And his fiancée's name seemed to change constantly too.
'Maybe I shouldn't indulge him quite so much.'
The problem was that it wasn't easy.
Someone might ask why I bothered playing along.
But honestly?
He was kind of pitiful.
And kind of cute.
A little kid constantly following me around wasn't exactly unpleasant.
'...'
Wait a second.
Hadn't my thinking become a little strange lately?
I wasn't originally this soft-hearted.
Compared to before, I seemed much more patient.
Much more empathetic.
Much more sensitive about maintaining relationships.
Even when I showed consideration or tolerance, it felt different.
Less masculine somehow.
Less bold.
Why was that?
Ding!
Huh?
What was that?
Today was my thirteenth birthday?
Come to think of it, Eden and Anna had told me to look forward to something.
< Trait Selection >
"Kyel, hold on a second?"
Well, whatever was happening with my personality could wait.
Picking a trait was clearly more important.
...
What the heck is this?