Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: First Training in the Combat Division (1)
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Darren Smith, the holy priest and instructor of the Combat Division, stepped into Roya Hall.
Roya Hall, named directly after the God of Battle, Roya. True to its name, it was a place shared by the Combat Division's professors, instructors, and cadets.
However, Darren's head ached today because of an unwelcome intruder who was here.
'What on earth are the Chancellor and the Division Council thinking?'
This Monday morning, Darren had received bad news from Milius, the High Priest of the Combat Division.
"It's been decided that Julian von Reinhardt can participate in all divisions' lectures and training. So, even if he suddenly shows up in your training, don't be too surprised."
"What do you mean all of a sudden? Julian von Reinhardt?!"
Even in front of the High Priest, Darren shouted loudly.
He was a holy priest with enough experience and skill to be a senior instructor. But he had stayed by the cadets' side because he loved the training grounds.
Moreover, Darren was a holy priest and excellent warrior who had served in the great war against the demon race.
He had no interest in power or fame. He moved only by his convictions, so even the division's High Priests couldn't handle him carelessly.
That's why the High Priest Milius, his superior over senior instructors, had called him in person to talk like this.
'Come to think of it, I was probably the only one in the Combat Division who chewed him out back in his first year.'
The crucial training with a great magic beast for the first-year preparatory squad. In that training, Julian von Reinhardt had appeared in bizarre attire.
'It looked like clown clothes.'
Compared to the other cadets who had properly equipped themselves with armor and such for training, it stood out terribly. Even the sword in his hand was a shoddy thing adorned with jewels that could hardly be called a weapon.
Even so, if he had just stayed quietly in the rear in that getup, Darren would have endured it to the end.
But it was a training against an actual magic beast, even if it was only Rank 5. In that training, the count had charged in recklessly alone.
'I am a noble body bearing the blood of Reinhardt! A puny Rank 5 magic beast will kneel before my intense killing intent!'
Fortunately, he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his face, preventing disaster. But with the count's pathetic combat skills, his head would have been cleanly severed by the Rank 5 magic beast's attack.
After that, Darren never went easy on him, no matter how noble his status.
If the count died alone, that was fine. But his reckless actions could wither away and injure precious cadets. Darren's upright personality could never tolerate that.
Every time Julian did something crazy, Darren berated him mercilessly. Surprisingly, the wastrel Count Julian got scared at that.
'He couldn't even meet my eyes properly when I glared at him.'
Naturally, Julian von Reinhardt's mid-training evaluation score was the lowest. It was only natural for a half-baked cadet who hadn't even awakened mana.
In the end, worn down by Darren and his own incompetence, the count quickly lost interest. Before long, he stopped showing up to the Combat Division lectures.
Rumors said he had holed up in Hesoas Hall of the Arts Division. Anyway, it was a relief for Darren.
But now, the High Priest in front of him dropped a bombshell.
"You know what kind of guy—no, what kind of cadet—Julian von Reinhardt is, don't you, High Priest?!"
However, Milius, as if he had anticipated his reaction, spoke calmly without flinching.
"It's the decision of the Division Council. Julian von Reinhardt has fully qualified. Treat him not as an auditor, but as a proper trainee and priest."
"A formal trainee? Are you perhaps mistaking him for a first-year?"
Pantheon's first-year cadets could freely cross-attend lectures from any division.
Moreover, for cadets also in preparatory squads, first-year Combat Division lectures were mandatory, so cadets from other divisions frequented Roya Hall.
However, the High Priest denied that too.
"No. Julian von Reinhardt is a second-year. I know that well."
"Then, are you making him retake first-year lectures? Since his grades in our division were abysmal, as supplementary? If so, you should have called the first-year cadet instructor, not me, who's in charge of second-years..."
"That's not it either. The lectures the count will attend are the second-year advanced courses. That's why I called you, knowing you're the second-year instructor. Other second-year instructors might let it slide, but you would definitely object, just like now."
So, he was telling him in advance. Darren, who had been about to protest more, stopped himself.
"Understood. I'm just an instructor. I, who am not even a senior one, can't disobey the High Priest."
"Hrm. I know your personality. I'm not trying to torment you on purpose. I know this is special treatment too. But trust me. The count will be different from before. He has the qualifications, as I said."
Qualifications. If being the sole heir of Border Count Wilhelm and Saintess Agnes was the qualification, Darren couldn't accept it.
But Darren had no intention of pressing further. Pantheon's grade evaluations were fairer than anywhere else.
"In exchange, I'll evaluate the count myself. You're not telling me to rig it for him too, are you?"
"Of course not. Pantheon's grade evaluations must be perfectly fair, on the honor of the Six Gods, without a single inch of falsehood. Touching that inviolable realm is absolutely forbidden."
"Understood. Since you say so, I'll treat the count the same as the other second-year cadets for now."
With that, he left the High Priest's office. His head was complicated.
Saintess Agnes and Essenmont's Border Count Wilhelm von Reinhardt. Those two were still heroes of history that Darren deeply respected.
'But... for their one and only heir to be such a mess.'
Darren was one of the few who had seen those two directly on the battlefield. So, when he heard Julian von Reinhardt was enrolling in Pantheon, no one was more expectant than him.
And no one was more disappointed than Darren. Utterly irredeemable wastrel. He had zero faith in the "qualifications" the High Priest mentioned.
But Darren regained his composure. He was an instructor. Once training began, all cadets were equal.
If they aspired to be warriors, he would forge them into warriors. That was all Darren had to do—nothing more, nothing less.
I was now in Roya Hall.
The Combat Division's main building. And a place of great importance in relation to the preparatory squad. As I walked the corridors, the resounding cheers of cadets echoed nonstop.
And I entered a small training ground next to Hesoas Hall, where today's training would take place.
The Combat Division cadets were already assembled there. The moment they recognized me, their expressions turned strange.
Like, why are you here? Not an odd reaction at all.
'Considering what the wastrel Julian did in his first year. That's to be expected.'
They said Julian, who didn't even know the basics of swordsmanship, showed up to training and caused nothing but trouble. Eventually, even he felt ashamed and stopped attending Combat Division lectures on his own...
In truth, these cadets must feel conflicted seeing me. Saintess Agnes and Border Count Wilhelm—both were heroes utterly revered by the Combat Division.
Moreover, my escort knight Uriel was like a goddess to these cadets.
The continent's strongest, the White Night Knights. Just becoming a knight there at an age only a couple years older than them showed talent beyond comparison.
'Many cadets here graduate and use their recommendation qualifications to apply to the White Night Knights.'
For priests of Roya who pursued pure martial prowess, the White Night Knights were more popular than even the Imperial Capital Guard.
Having a precious White Night Knight like Uriel wait on a wastrel young master must not sit well with them. No wonder their impression of me was poor.
Still, a few who had gotten familiar with my face at Chloe's banquet last night came over to greet me.
"Did you get home well last night?!"
"Indeed. Good to see you again. Did you rest well?"
"Y-Yes... thanks to you, I rested well! Thank you for your concern, Count Julian."
However, I didn't remember their names at all, so I just gave generic greetings. As I felt the awkwardness of this unfamiliar place for a moment.
The instructor for my swordsmanship subgroup, Darren Smith, entered the small training ground. He looked exactly as I knew from Demon King's Son: strict, dignified, serious.
As he entered, the cadets' eyes sharpened all at once.
And they formed ranks in perfect order. As expected of second-years, their alignment was flawless and adept. I stood at ease at the back of their line.
Darren swept his piercing gaze over us.
"As expected of second-years, no slackers..."
At that moment, Darren's and my eyes met. After glancing at me, he said,
"I see. Then we'll begin the first training."
The Combat Division's holy priests were of the warrior class. Some cadets used unique weapons, but most wielded swords. This subgroup in particular focused solely on swordsmanship.
"Warm up with Imperial Swordsmanship Chapter 1, Forms 1 through 5. Front row, step forward and repeat each 10 times."
He was having them demonstrate the swordsmanship in front of their peers and rivals.
I watched the first cadets' swordplay intently.
With the trait active, even a swordsmanship novice could gauge those cadets' skills. No. Actually, thanks to Military Parade prep, I had learned the basics, so I wasn't a complete novice.
'Still amateurish. Even for second-years.'
Though it was the Ordinary Mana Knight trait, performance doubled thanks to Reinhardt blood. I had received personal instruction from top-tier knight Uriel with this trait.
Plus, though just one exchange, I dodged Captain Michael's strike and landed a counter. Thanks to the proficiency gained, my trait had leveled up to "Evolved Ordinary Mana Knight."
In truth, there wasn't much difference in eye for swordsmanship from the previous stage. The real test was in actual combat.
"Last row! Step forward."
It was my turn to demonstrate. As I stepped to the front of my row, everyone focused on me.
I even felt Instructor Darren's gaze, pretending not to look but stealing glances.
Uncharacteristically for these orderly cadets, murmurs arose. They whispered carefully so I wouldn't hear, but my post-mana-awakening sharpened senses caught their voices.
"Count Julian, not in that weird outfit? That's standard cadet armor."
"Sword's a plain Imperial Sword too. What's with the whim?"
"Noble brats usually show up with fancier gear. Is this some new performance art?"
"Heh. Maybe. No way the count's serious anyway. Why's he even here?"
"Yeah. More importantly, does the count even know Imperial Swordsmanship? I saw him fail Form 1 with that jeweled sword before."
"His hands were shaking with that crappy sword."
Somehow, though I hadn't worn the clown outfit Julian bragged about, I felt like a clown. As the cadets said, my current attire was sensible.
Standard armor over training uniform. Imperial Sword. It was heavy fully equipped, but Rosario's all-stats boost kept it from being uncomfortable.
'And no need to flaunt gear right now.'
Border Count Wilhelm had tried to load me up with precious swords and gear as I left for school. But I refused.
'A fine knight never blames his equipment.'
'Oho. Julian. You can say such wise things? Right you are. As folk of Essenmont, that's only natural.'
Indeed, Essenmont—especially the White Night Knights—had that maxim. Knights who blame gear lose their heads on their first battlefield.
Essenmont bordered the continent's worst, the eternal permafrost gates. With so many high-rank magic beasts, even top gear was negligible.
'Thus, in Essenmont, the warrior himself had to become the ultimate weapon.'
Of course, that was just Essenmont tradition. Gear mattered greatly.
But for me, unless system-verified like Agnes's Rosario, I didn't need it yet.
"Quiet down, everyone! The sword demonstration isn't over yet."
Instructor Darren quelled the brief commotion. Then he shouted,
"Imperial Swordsmanship Chapter 1. Forms 1 through 5. Begin!"
I drew the Imperial Sword from its sheath. And naturally executed Pantheon's standard swordsmanship, as the system described: Imperial Swordsmanship.
In that instant, everything but the sword and myself vanished. The continent's premier swordsmanship house, Reinhardt.
As expected, post-mana-awakening, something inside me had changed.
The lion's blood induced natural immersion even in this bustle. Though just a plain Imperial Sword, it felt like wielding a holy sword treasured in the imperial palace.
The 10 fluid repetitions ended in a flash.
And as the surroundings reentered my vision, the cadets' astonished voices stirred a small commotion in the training ground.