Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: What Is This? It's Scary. (1)
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Humans often refer to food, clothing, and shelter as the basic necessities of life.
And if I had to pick the most important among them, I'd say it's food.
If you don't have a home, you can sleep rough. If you don't have clothes, you can just cover up somehow. But if you don't have food, you die.
—From the memoirs of a certain hero—
I stared blankly at the training grounds.
"Die!"
"This time for sure!"
"Defeat suits you."
Was Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods, like this?
-These damn brats!
"Ice Buster!"
-Kraaaagh!
No, seeing the fire giant who capped off that myth getting pummeled, it might actually be possible.
Rewind to a few months ago, when it all started.
"From today on, before every meal, we're starting simple physical training."
Just three rookies, but if I threw them into the mercenary world right now, they'd hold their own.
Even if they're short on experience for A-rank, they could at least handle B-rank, maybe even B-minus.
Otherwise, they wouldn't be standing here.
And teaching kids like that is exhausting.
The realm of geniuses. In that realm, teach one thing, and they pick up at least one more.
Put differently, if done right, they learn ten or twenty things—those are geniuses.
And the moment I empty my bag of tricks on them, I become a worthless instructor. An instructor without respect or fear turns into prime prey from that point on.
The previous class actually started rebelling once they adapted a bit to the control measures.
We moved on to the next phase after that. But we have to assume the next phase could stall anytime too.
Honestly, it doesn't seem like it will.
That's why, with no more tricks up my sleeve, it's time to use a big, bold method.
"The training is simple. Just run 5km and come back."
Light running. But add one condition, and it's different.
"Any means necessary. Just don't kill each other. However, the last one in misses the meal."
No. 1000's dazed eyes lit up.
She was always weirdly obsessed with food, staking her life on it.
Honestly, even I was taken aback watching her crunch through scorpion tails—the ones infamous in the desert for being poisonous.
And the sight of her beaming like treasure when she spotted a desert fox that even kids or older folks would find cute? It haunts my dreams sometimes.
For a girl like that, denying her food is the worst punishment.
But No. 1 and No. 17 still didn't grasp the gravity of it.
#1 Their Situation: The Hunger of the Future Hero
The sky looks white.
I'm hungry...
I want to eat something tasty...
"Delicious!"
"Yeah."
The instructor is a demon.
Sure, inedible stuff aside, having to attend every meal!
Watching No. 1000 devour hers like it was the best thing ever, and No. 17 picking at hers with some satisfaction, I realized I was trapped in this vicious cycle.
Honestly, as a direct descendant of a grand ducal house, I had my pride.
Just for food?
I still had enough pride left not to cling to something like that!
I realized I had to throw that pride to the dogs on the third day.
Sure, as a man with some pride, I thought I couldn't starve a girl over a meal, but by day three, I was hitting my limit.
Direct descendant of a grand ducal house.
Flip that around: as one, starving was unthinkable.
Sometimes, retainers would protest Father's policies with hunger strikes, saying "that's not right." Thinking back now, they were truly admirable.
How did they last a week, a month?
With that in mind, I was sincerely about to sprint for lunch when a dagger flew right at him.
"Hey, hold up!"
I swiftly drew my sword and swatted the dagger away. I nearly died spacing out. Dying here would just make my damn brothers happy.
No. 1000, who threw it—maybe not trusting the distance—started running for dear life.
No. 17 picked up her pace a bit in response.
"Ah, one meal wouldn't hurt!"
I'm starving!
Screaming it inwardly, I pushed harder—then suddenly, the sky filled my view.
Stumbling up, I saw ice underfoot.
The heat was easing a little, but it wasn't even autumn yet.
Ice?
"You little..."
Gritting my teeth, I poured everything into running.
No matter what, this is too much. My comrades starving like this!
Even if the instructor said any means necessary, trying to actually kill?
I swung my sword, cast spells, and ran hard.
Barely catching up, getting attacked, falling behind again. That's when I realized.
'I'm too hungry to have any strength left!'
A healthy body houses a healthy spirit, they say.
Paraphrasing: a hungry body breeds a hungry spirit, sapping all strength.
I should have noticed sooner. They were at full strength.
Me? Just a golem running low on mana.
A golem out of mana is nothing but a stone statue.
But I caught on too late!
Days turned into one, two—before I knew it, a whole week without food!
The sky really looked white; pebbles seemed like fruit.
Now, only the last resort remained.
Evening: another pre-meal light run.
But with no energy left, I collapsed at the start.
Ah, even on the brink of death, the instructor wouldn't give me a bite. No, he was watching to make sure I didn't sneak any.
Starve like this?
Even my brothers who sent me to hell wouldn't have predicted this!
"...Hey, you okay?"
Ah, here she comes. No. 17. I hadn't even hoped for No. 1000.
No. 1000 lacks any human conscience.
Whatever she is, she's no human. Confirmed it in mountains, seas, deserts.
Drop her in an icy wasteland with nothing but ice, and she'd grind it up to eat.
Fortunately, No. 17 still had some humanity left.
"...Wa... ter..."
"Huh? What're you saying?"
She used comrades as bait during training to test enemy fire, but she pitied collapsing from hunger.
Drooling as I stared, she even asked the instructor if one bite was okay—proof of some conscience.
"Uh... wa..."
"Sigh, speak slowly, clearly."
My cracked voice from being down— she sighed softly, leaning her ear to my mouth.
Ah, sorry. But that's on you for not noticing.
Instructor banned food, not water.
Filling up on water daily, my voice wouldn't crack.
A slight prick of conscience, but hunger first.
Whispering into her close ear:
"Mana Seal, Mana Chains."
"Huh? What?"
Confused eyes turned to me.
Sorry, but I'm hungry.
The pre-drawn magic circle was hidden under my body.
To bind the best magic user among us with magic? Only one way.
Ambush with a prepped spell.
Same speed, she'd outpace me every time.
Even bound first, she'd escape with time. So.
Clank. Clank.
"Ah, wait! What's this? Let me go!"
Slapped pre-prepped handcuffs on her slender white wrists and ankles.
Training gear room had them, instructor said use freely.
He gave me a knowing smile taking them, but whatever now.
"Sorry."
"You bastard!"
Curses flew from behind, but I'd added sealing and soundproof circles nearby.
Just in case, cuffed her with all remaining pairs.
Wanted the prisoner mana cuffs from the desert, but warehouse lacked them.
These sufficed to hold No. 17.
And that day, I ate second place.
So good.
***
The training results exceeded even my expectations.
Honestly, I hadn't anticipated this level.
The group I took over second— the closest-knit—rationed meals by turns, fair and square.
Previous class eyed each other warily but didn't go all-out life-or-death.
"Get out of my way!"
But this class? Insane.
Over food.
"Die!"
Earth flipped, daggers flew. No. 1 tossed his cherished sword at an unavoidable strike—screw the "dropping your sword is a swordsman's shame."
Magic incoming clashed midair with the sword, exploding.
Pushing through the shattering blade's space, he charged.
"Get. Lost."
A blue sword aura flashed before No. 1.
Sword aura at that age.
Even famed sword houses rarely see heirs wield it so young.
They get toy wooden swords at three, real ones at seven—such geniuses are rare.
Yet a trainee from the Evil Organization, barely years into sword training, wielding sword aura? Madness.
And how it happened was even crazier.
Exactly once. No. 1000 came last.
Careless? Ganged up? Not sure.
I didn't watch every run.
But I'd assumed she'd always rank high, like every other day. That day, upset.
Watching No. 1 and No. 17 eat, she shed crocodile tears.
That scene sticks in my mind.
After meals ended, swinging her sword in fury—sword aura formed.
What the hell kind of case is this.
Starve her a month, she'll hit swordmaster.
Or she'll stab my gut first.
Blazing training. Self-awakening brats.
So I added fuel.
"First place gets special rations."
Kids who'd settled for not-last now fought fiercer for first.
Wasn't my original plan. Meant to trial two-three months, but denying one meal auto-boosted skills—no way to quit.
After that, No. 1000 dominated.
Sword aura gap was huge. Slicing magic, swords alike.
To counter, match with sword aura or amp up magic.
No. 1 awakened his too. Dodging, blocking strikes aimed at his whole body.
Like creatures evolving to survive—under No. 1000's onslaught, No. 1 awakened sword aura!
As the two-power struggle raged, No. 17 came to me.
"I want to get stronger. Stronger than anyone."
With fierce anger and resolve.