Chapter 8: Ah, I Shouldn't Have Done That Back Then (2)
Chapter 8: Ah, I Shouldn't Have Done That Back Then (2)
Everyone has a glorious goal they strive for.
Just as a merchant dreams of amassing wealth and a scholar dreams of rising through the ranks to become a high-ranking official, a man who picks up a sword dreams of becoming strong and growing into a great hero.
That’s fine.
Dreams are free, and anyone can have them.
However, those who actually begin to put those dreams into practice soon realize one thing:
Nothing in this world is given for free.
“You pathetic lot! It hasn't even been an hour yet, you bastards!”
A ten-year-old child was shouting and barking orders at grown men with utter disrespect.
Who was it?
Need I even say? It was Petrick.
Before his eyes, two hundred soldiers were straining with expressions that looked as if they were on the verge of death.
The soldiers had their legs half-bent and their torsos held upright, arms extended forward while gripping their swords.
It was the posture known in the Martial World as the Horse Stance.
The foundation of martial arts.
The foundation of the lower body.
The absolute basic of basics.
When Petrick first demonstrated the posture and told them to try it, the soldiers' first impression was, ‘What on earth is that?’
To the soldiers who didn't understand at all, Petrick had said:
[If you can endure this for two sijeon… no, four hours, I will pass down an energy cultivation method—that is, the Aura Blessing.]
The moment they heard those words, the soldiers' eyes flipped.
Aura Blessing?
Wasn't that something they couldn't even dare to dream of?
‘Good god, Aura Blessing?’
‘He’s truly intending to make us into knights.’
‘All we have to do is hold this strange pose for four hours? This is a steal.’
And so, the moment Petrick gave the signal to start, everyone awkwardly took the position.
Petrick walked among the soldiers, correcting their forms. Once he finished the adjustments, he climbed onto a platform and began to watch over them with a stern, judgmental gaze.
And now, thirty minutes had passed…
“Urgh…”
“Aaaargh…”
The soldiers were gritting their teeth, holding on for dear life.
Their thighs felt like they were on fire, and their entire bodies wobbled and twisted, but they endured and endured again with the singular obsession of obtaining the Aura Blessing. However…
“Aaaaah!”
“Dammit!”
“Nooooo!”
Eventually, the limit arrived.
Though they were burning with determination in the face of the greatest opportunity of their lives, it was no easy feat to endure on willpower alone once the body reached its breaking point.
The mind transcending the flesh?
Hah, that’s not something just anyone can do.
Especially in an atmosphere like this, one person’s failure is contagious.
Once the first person drops out, a thought begins to form in the corner of everyone else's mind: ‘It can’t be helped.’
When that happens…
“Aaaaaargh!”
“Curse it…”
“Noooo! Dammit!”
Soldiers began to collapse here and there, hitting the ground on their backsides.
Out of the two hundred soldiers, about seventy collapsed in an instant.
Seeing this, Petrick clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at you lot. Back in my day, once I started the Horse Stance, I’d stay like that all day. I’d sleep in that position, eat in that position, and even look at spring pictures in that position! You hear me, you punks?”
‘What are spring pictures?’
‘What’s a spring picture?’
They were extremely curious for some reason, but it wasn't a situation where they could ask.
An hour passed.
“Uuuugh…”
“Grrr… Aaaargh…”
Their muscles were screaming.
Please, just give up.
It’ll be so much easier if you just give up and sit down.
Their bodies protested and raged, asking why they were doing this.
But here’s the thing.
Resisting the signals sent by the body and pushing oneself to the absolute limit—that is exactly what training is.
At this point, more than half had dropped out, leaving fewer than seventy men.
Those remaining trembled violently in the legs but tried to hold on by any means necessary.
Their will was commendable. Their will, at least.
Two hours passed.
“Now only you’re left?”
Everyone else had collapsed, and only one man remained, dripping with beads of sweat.
Petrick sat cross-legged in front of him, looking at the final challenger with a bored expression.
‘Well, I figured he’d be the one left.’
Sanson.
The natural-born martial artist Petrick had already taken note of once before.
Looking at his physique alone, Sanson’s talent was quite substantial.
If he had been born in the Central Plains, he would have made a name for himself as a man of great strength from a young age, and some old man with a white beard from an Orthodox sect would have snatched him up, saying, “Ho ho ho, you, become my disciple.”
Even as everyone else fell, Sanson endured and endured.
And then, over two hours had passed.
Two of the four hourglasses Petrick had prepared had run out, and the third had begun to flow.
Seeing this, Petrick wore a satisfied smile.
“Good. You’re doing well.”
“…….”
“Only half left. You can do it, right?”
“Kh…”
“Just endure for exactly as long as you’ve already done. You can do it. Right?”
“Ugh… Argh…”
Groans of pain began to escape Sanson’s lips.
The human heart is a fickle thing.
Halfway done. Halfway to go.
Even in the exact same situation, the emotions one feels can differ.
Sanson had been enduring despite the burning pain in his legs, but the moment he realized half the time was still left, his spirit wavered.
‘Half is still left? I have to do everything I just did all over again? This?’
His knees shook, and his entire body began to scream.
The moment he realized he had to endure this hellish time of agony all over again…
‘This… this is insane…’
“Aaaaaargh!”
In the end, Sanson collapsed as well.
Sanson, who slumped backward, stared blankly with a look of utter despair before quickly covering his eyes with both hands.
He gritted his teeth and hid his eyes, fearing that a grown man like himself might show a pathetic sight.
The other soldiers felt his pain as well.
‘Sanson, I hoped at least you would pass.’
‘Dammit, does this even make sense? Does it?’
‘It was impossible from the start. That damn Young Master was just playing with us.’
Though they didn't say it aloud, the soldiers directed gazes full of resentment toward Petrick.
Receiving those glares, Petrick clicked his tongue.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. No grit. Absolutely no grit.”
“Kh…”
“Dammit…”
The soldiers clenched their fists in frustration, their bodies trembling.
As they breathed heavily and gritted their teeth to suppress their anger, Petrick spoke.
“You want to become knights with such weak willpower? Not a chance.”
“…….”
“You’re all nothing but pathetic trash.”
“Kh…”
Even if he was the Lord’s son, being insulted like this by a ten-year-old child made a rage so hot it felt like their heads would spin.
They glared at Petrick with murderous eyes, and Petrick looked back at them and said:
“You thought this was a joke, didn't you?”
“…….”
“You thought it was nothing? You thought it was easy, so you jumped at the chance, didn't you? All giddy at the thought of learning the Aura Blessing.”
“…….”
“Am I wrong? If I am, speak up. I’ll apologize.”
“…….”
No one answered.
Because Petrick’s words had pierced their inner thoughts with pinpoint accuracy.
Instead of anger, shame and self-loathing began to fill their hearts.
It was a posture they had thought was nothing, yet not a single one of them had cleared the condition Petrick set.
What could they possibly say?
Were they going to complain now that the conditions were too harsh, after they had accepted them without a second thought?
If they had even a shred of conscience, they couldn't do that.
The soldiers hung their heads in dejection.
Seeing them like that, Petrick smiled faintly to himself.
‘They know the Way. They haven't been taught, but they can distinguish right from wrong and act upon it.’
He already knew and trusted the soldiers' loyalty.
But regardless of that, he had to verify whether they were qualified to learn martial arts.
Martial arts is power.
Those qualified to obtain that power must be individuals who have formed at least the minimum character to use that power correctly.
‘…Or so Master’s philosophy went. Huh? Then why did he teach me?’
He felt a brief contradiction in his master’s teachings, but regardless, this seemed like enough of a test for the soldiers.
Petrick spoke in a calm voice.
“We do this again tomorrow at the same time.”
The soldiers, who had been hanging their heads, all looked up at once.
One of the soldiers asked:
“We aren't disqualified as of today?”
“Of course not. I’m going to make you do it until you succeed.”
“We… we don't have to give up?”
“Give uuuup?”
A deep furrow appeared between Petrick’s brows.
In an instant, all two hundred soldiers flinched.
It was strange for hundreds of grown men to flinch just because a ten-year-old kid scowled, but look who they were dealing with.
Petrick looked at the soldier who had mentioned giving up and said:
“Give up? Go ahead. Try giving up and see what happens.”
“N-no. I didn't mean I was going to give up.”
“Oh, you didn't? I see. I must have misunderstood. Hahaha. Sorry.”
“Ha… Hahaha…”
Petrick dropped the expression that had made him look like an incarnation of a demon and laughed heartily.
The soldier laughed back awkwardly, and Petrick muttered loud enough for the soldiers to hear on purpose:
“What a shame. I need to make a proper example out of someone early on so that a second or third deserter doesn't show up.”
In that moment, the soldiers realized.
From the very beginning, the option to "give up" never existed for them.
*
One week later.
“Hey! You insect-like bastard!”
“Aaaargh!”
Petrick dashed over to a soldier who had collapsed while enduring the Horse Stance and kicked him squarely.
The soldier flew several meters and crashed into a corner of the training grounds. Petrick approached him and…
“What did I say? Huh? Did I or did I not say you’re dead if you collapse sooner than yesterday?”
“Ugh… Aaaargh… You did. You… Aaaargh!”
“Then why did you collapse? Are you ignoring me? Are you? And you still expect to live?”
“No, sir. No… Aaaargh!”
It was a scene of brutal violence, hard to watch with open eyes.
The other soldiers who were watching gritted their teeth and endured.
‘He’s crazy…’
‘No. I have to endure.’
‘Uuuugh… Nooooo!’
If anyone were here to say, ‘How much could it hurt to be trampled by a ten-year-old?’ they would have to clear away another corpse.
The soldiers knew.
They knew exactly how much cruel and horrific pain Petrick’s violence entailed.
After the first day of training, Petrick had assigned them quotas.
“You must endure at least thirty minutes longer than your past self from yesterday. Got it?”
“Th-thirty minutes?”
“Yeah. Isn't that obvious? A person should be better than they were yesterday. That’s what progress is, isn't it?”
“…….”
“You’re training, so you should progress. Training that doesn't achieve the result of progress is just a waste of time. To that end, the goal is thirty minutes. How about it? Good, right?”
“…….”
His words were correct.
Regrettably, they were absolutely correct.
Then, one soldier said with a tearful face:
“But Young Master, thirty minutes is too…”
“Hmm? Is it too short?”
Petrick cut him off before he could finish. Then, with a bright smile, he continued:
“Then shall we make it an hour?”
“N-no, that’s not what I meant…”
“Hmm, I see I’ve underestimated your enthusiasm. I offer my sincere apologies to everyone. Please, curse my incompetence for not recognizing your drive and desire for self-improvement.”
“…….”
For a split second, the thought ‘Can I actually curse him?’ flashed through the soldiers' minds.
To those soldiers, Petrick said with the face of a devil:
“Alright then, as you all wished(?), it’s one hour. You just have to do exactly one hour more than your past self from yesterday. Wow, we’ll succeed at the four-hour mark in no time! Right?”
“…….”
In an instant, the soldiers' faces turned pale.
Petrick clapped his hands and shouted:
“Alright, begin!”
And so, the training resumed.
And the beatings began in earnest.
It was the moment hell descended upon the training grounds of the Schneider estate.