Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Drill Training
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And three days later, I took in a total of eight rookies: one woman including Lucia, and seven men.
As expected, the ones assigned to me—who was lowest in seniority—were all half trash except for Lucia, but that was fine.
Just like in Korea, where even the worst trash could be straightened out with training and beatings, it would be plenty possible here too.
"From now on, I'm your Squad Leader. So before we head out under Count Zaltzheim's command to fight in a real war, I'll spend the next month fixing your rotten attitudes and your pathetic combat skills."
In my previous life, after coming out of special forces, I'd spent over five years in a PMC using that experience, turning countless pieces of trash worse than these from all over the world into people who could pull their weight.
"If you've got complaints, pack your shit and go home right now. Or fuck off!"
The eight rookies in front of me answered in unison.
"None, sir!"
"Good. Now I'll tell you what kind of training you're in for. Until I ask otherwise, you only answer 'yes' or 'no' during this training. Anyone who breaks that rule gets drilled into the ground until they wish they were dead."
"Yes, sir!"
"Very good. Your training with me for the next month will be drill training and physical conditioning. You probably don't know what drill is, so I'll explain simply: it's learning to move your arms and legs in sync with the idiot next to you. Looks easy as hell, right?"
In the Korean military, drill training was seen as obsolete these days—after spinning you around at boot camp, they hardly ever did it again.
But in this game world where cold weapons like swords, spears, and bows ruled, it was like a magic spell that could turn spear-fumbling idiots into decent humans in just one month.
No point teaching them like other mercenary groups, spending a month on spear thrusts or advanced spear or sword techniques—it wouldn't help them survive much.
After all, to flashy use martial arts designed for one-on-one fights on the battlefield, you needed at least ten years of training or equivalent real combat experience.
Fuck, what good is learning that in just one month?
Lucia shot me a doubtful look, as if wondering if this training was really necessary for mages like her, tilting her head.
"Lucia, you might think as a mage you don't need this. But what if an enemy attacks while you're chanting a spell? You gonna stand there like an idiot waiting for help and just get stabbed?"
"Th-that's... no, sir."
"That's why top mages—no, first-rate ones in the mercenary world—train in swordsmanship and such to prepare for attacks mid-cast. So no complaints, just follow along."
"Yes, sir... Squad Leader."
After convincing her, I handed out 2.5kg bracelets and sandbags to the mercenaries.
"To survive long as a mercenary, you need stamina. Without stamina and grit, even if you luckily dodge all arrows and spells, you'll die in close combat. So you idiot fuckwits strap these bracelets on both arms and tie sandbags to your legs with bandages for training to build stamina. Lucia, as a mage, you're exempt."
At that, the rookies made faces like it was unbelievable and grumbled.
"Fuck, other squad leaders said this guy's the lowest in seniority, and I didn't wanna serve under this bastard."
"Isn't he just plain crazy?"
"Shut your fucking mouths, you shits. If we wanna do more than haul shit or grunt work, we shut up and do what we're told."
I geared up in full armor just like them, even putting on the bracelets and sandbags to lead by example.
"I'll do the same training as you. So shut your traps and follow. You're all cannon fodder who'd drop like premature ejacs on the battlefield right now. I'll remake you into proper humans. That way you can come back alive. Now, drill training begins. Watch me closely and copy."
Drawing from my experience drilling soldiers in Korea, I demonstrated the basic drill movements.
Moving left foot and right arm forward simultaneously at precise angles, then right foot and left arm the same way, shifting front, back, left, right.
"Today, we're just learning to walk like babies. If all eight of you sync up perfectly, training ends. Then rest. I don't think you can't handle something even a one-year-old can do!"
Drill walking isn't hard alone.
A few tries to iron out kinks, and you can handle direction changes and marching distances.
So our chirping chicks' eyes sparkled at the promise of early end.
"For real, sir?"
"A man's word is bond. If you eight sync for ten minutes straight, we're done. Finish before noon, and I'll rent out the inn for all-you-can-drink booze and meat till your guts burst."
"You promise to keep that?"
"Martin Meyer doesn't go back on his word."
Lucia was among the excited ones.
Her silver tail swishing with a smile—she was probably dreaming of peach pie from me after training...
Would it really end by noon? I figured it'd take days at least.
I grabbed the booze-and-meat dazzled mercenaries, sometimes singly, sometimes in groups, patiently showing arm and leg angles.
"You moron fuckwit! Deaf or what? Arm up to exactly here, leg higher! Fuck, makes me wonder how you waddled as toddlers. Can't walk so you rolled everywhere?"
"Whether you swung blades or pickpocketed for thief guilds before this, doesn't fucking matter! So shut up and swing those limbs big! Scared? Fuck, did thief guild teach you to move like noble ladies? Forget it. Don't pussyfoot around, you fucks!"
"Mages can't slack on this! Unless you're some archmage who can sling high-level spells from way back. Low-level mages gotta sync breaths behind spearmen and chain fireballs! Start with limb sync. Swing bigger if you don't wanna die on the field!"
Like some foul-mouthed Marine sergeant screaming in their ears, their absorption of drill knowledge shot up.
Not sponge-like instant, but after an hour's hard teaching, there was progress.
"Baker, forward twenty steps. Left face! Let's see if that thick skull got it."
Baker managed angles on arms/legs, twenty steps, precise left turn.
"Good. All eight, line up! Follow me for ten minutes of drill march. Nail it without mistakes by noon, booze and meat as promised. You won't disappoint me like three-year-olds toddling, right?"
They eyed me with anticipation.
"Limbs in sync—forward march!"
Lucia and the rest stepped out.
"Left face! Left!"
Sudden turn scattered their neat line.
"Wha, fuck? Hey Baker! Get your head in the game, you retard fuck!"
"Bullshit."
"H-hey... just do it again. Don't be so harsh."
"Why the fuck can't you turn left? Goddamn."
They started cursing each other, but through training hell, they'd conclude I'm the ultimate evil.
Bonds would form, unity grow.
"All freeze! Copy me: hands on ground, down!"
"That position: one, push-up; two, extend! Your thick heads need it—one!"
They bent arms, chests hovering over dirt.
"Move and redo! One: focus! Two: concentrate!"
Lucia's weak stamina had her trembling under a minute.
Her grounded chest shook.
"One!"
"Focus!"
"Two!"
"Concentrate!"
My commands had them yelling focus/concentrate, bending/extending in agony.
Without Lucia, I'd push thirty reps, but can't overdo the mage.
"All up! Start over! Left foot, right arm—march! Till you get it, even all night! Man up or stay fodder! Spear thrusts and swings later, you tiny-dicked shits!"
Squad Leader authority crushed them; Lucia and others reset and marched.
Better than first, but left turn then right at spot messed sync again.
"Down! One again!"
"Focus!"
Push-ups restarted; fragile academy-wand-swinging Lucia trembled anew.
"Lucia, tough?"
"Yes..."
"Quit if you want. But give up here, no grand mage dreams. Can't do it?"
Prone and shaking violently, tears welling, she looked up.
"I can... for the priest who raised me..."
"Good. Go till you can't. You can do it, I guarantee."
"Yes..."
Encouraged, I yelled at them.
"All up! Fail this, ten minutes full sprint!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Forward! Left face!"
"One-two, one-two!"
As expected, I drilled drill into them from morning till sunset, mixing in conditioning screams.
No beatings, but road runs, jumping jacks, exercises pushed stamina limits safely.
End of day, they collapsed as predicted.
A month later, we finished the hell training and joined Count Zaltzheim's army for a new battlefield.
Before war, Dalton gathered all Squad Leaders and above.