Chapter 30 - Parade Ground
Chapter 30 - Parade Ground
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The reason Adel Baz came to hate male adventurers stems from a personal experience.
It was back when she was a D-rank adventurer.
She had set out on a journey with a party of five to clear out a goblin den, but as luck would have it, a total piece of trash was lumped in with them.
- Ah, my legs hurt. Can't we rest for just a little bit?
It had been barely three hours since they set out on their journey.
Of course, an ordinary person could bring up something like this.
However, an adventurer whose job was walking should never utter such words. Naturally, Adel Baz frowned and was about to say a word.
- Yes! Then let's rest for a bit.
Then, an absurd thing happened.
The four party members excluding herself unconditionally yielded to the man's words.
Flustered, she urged them to hurry up (nobody knows what kinds of curses were hurled in the process). But no one followed.
- You fucking bastard!
Adel Baz managed to stubbornly suppress her bu-geul-bu-geul boiling temper and ended up being forced to take an unwanted break.
The party finally resumed moving after thirty minutes passed, but they had changed into something completely different from before.
Unbelievably, the four party members began to revere that man as if worshiping him!
- I can't do stuff like this.
The most ridiculous part was the bullshit he suddenly blurted out when pitching the tents to sleep.
Not being able to pitch a tent? No matter how mediocre someone might be, walking, lighting a campfire, and pitching a tent are basic tasks anyone can do.
This was as fundamental as taking baby steps. Bivouacking was an adventurer's calling and daily routine.
- Is there anyone who can do this for me?
The absurd events didn't stop there.
That male adventurer cast his uniquely fucking annoying gaze directly at her and brazenly demanded that she pitch the tent.
Actually, it wasn't a demand. Well, at least verbally. Adel Baz could clearly tell what that fucking annoying gaze held within it.
Fortunately, she didn't end up pitching the tent, thanks to four out-of-their-minds female adventurers rushing over in a panic, scrambling to do it for him.
'Fuck.'
The word 'fuck' was well-suited for representing indescribable emotions.
Dragging the word 'fuck' up from the depths of her heart, she carried out the 'fucking commission'.
Having to put up with this kind of treatment just to earn a few dozen copper coins. Once upon a time, she, a sword master prospect, fell into despair.
And it didn't take long for that depression to explode into massive rage.
- You fucking bastard! How dare you touch my man?
- Fuck off, you asshole!
Just a hair's breadth away from arriving at the goblin nest.
The party abruptly fell into a state of internal strife.
The reason for this was truly absurd: on the day they pitched the tents, the male adventurer had mingled bodies with the women in the party.
- These fucking bastards are really something else.
What angered her wasn't that the party members drew swords and threatened to kill each other over it.
It was that right in front of the nest, they suddenly started screaming baek-baek at the top of their lungs and exposed their location, which caused dozens of goblins to come swarming u-reu-reu.
Adel Baz. Taking this incident as a lesson, she learned two things.
One was that she would have to spend a mountain of gold coins just to erase the scars incurred while escaping, all the while slashing down goblins rushing blindly at her.
And the other was that male creatures still cast their fucking annoying gaze even while being dragged off to a goblin den.
"...Whoa, is he actually going to pull this off?"
The reason she slapped the head of the instructor spouting such utter nonsense was also an action stemming from this exact kind of experience.
The creature known as a male, in Adel Baz's mind, was selfish and would whine at the slightest bit of hardship.
A running course where even women with great physical stamina would gasp heok-heok and nearly die after just 20 laps—a whopping 50 laps?!
And that too while wearing all sorts of gear.
Yet that man had now broken past 30 laps.
"Where the hell am I going to train today, and when should I look forward to my vacation!"
Along with bizarrely structured syllables of a song, no less.
"...What the hell kind of song is that?"
"Huh? Beats me. It doesn't seem like the kind currently trending on the streets."
Men were said to be sensitive to trends.
Then what on earth was that bizarre song? To think he was running so well while chanting incomprehensible lyrics.
Could it be a song from some newly founded religion? There might be a religion trending exclusively among men.
"Be that as it may, he's steadily heading into his 40th lap, you know."
Adel Baz raised her hand upward to slap him on the head once again.
However, she had no choice but to lower it immediately, as the man had genuinely entered his 40th lap.
"Honestly, isn't this something even our guys can't pull off?"
"...."
"I figured only you or Master could pull this off. Even if his strength looks weak, his stamina is incredible."
"...."
"Master?"
She couldn't accept this.
Originally, male adventurers were a pathetic bunch with feeble stamina.
Wretches who couldn't survive without seducing others.
That was Adel Baz's worldview.
And a crack was starting to form in that worldview.
"Hey."
"Yes?"
"Tell him to stop right there. He's going to collapse at this rate."
This was by no means out of goodwill.
It was merely a measure to prevent cracks from fracturing her worldview entirely.
If she were to witness that man actually succeeding, she might unknowingly harbor false hope for every single male adventurer out there.
Adel Baz sank into such baseless nightmare fuel for a moment.
Since there was nothing more cruel than harboring false hope, it was an unavoidable measure.
"Ah, but he looks like he'll succeed soon though..."
"Shut your trap and just drag him over!"
- Smack!
Though her personality tended to become serious in front of men, in reality, Adel Baz was a woman with a nasty disposition.
Her subordinates would often whisper behind her back, "That temperament of hers is why she hasn't managed to get married for over thirty years."
At any rate, that foul temperament was revealed without any filtration through a swift kick to the joint.
"Gkpt!"
"Just go drag him over already!"
With things coming to this, the instructor had no other choice.
Rubbing her aching leg for a moment, she grumbled and sprinted over quickly toward Dennis, who was running around the training ground.
'I suppose I can just roughly teach him how to swing a sword.'
If she taught him how to appropriately slice up people, he would presumably be satisfied and leave on his own.
Still, it was going to be a headache for a while. Just thinking about managing the noisy students chattering away after the man entered the training center... her head was already starting to hurt.
"Huh?!"
The instructor, who had gone to tell him to stop, let out a loud exclamation and approached Edel with a dumbfounded expression.
What is it? She wasn't the type of wench who wouldn't listen to orders. Frowning deeply, Adel watched her.
"What is it?"
"Ah, well... um."
"Hey! Speak clearly."
Unwilling to take another kick to the joint, the instructor was thoroughly frightened by the barked command and blurted out in a rush.
"He said to just bugger off, though?"
...Edel felt like she finally understood why the instructor had hesitated to speak in front of her.
Of course, entirely separate from that, she gave the instructor another kick to the joint as punishment for daring to swear in front of her.
It felt like my lungs were melting and sticking to every corner of my insides.
My heart was pounding kung-kwang kung-kwang so wildly. The sound was so loud it felt like my ears were going deaf.
The word 'exhaustion' no longer crossed my lips. Because too much saliva had poured out, my tongue and the roof of my mouth were parched dry, and my voice merely lingered in empty space.
Just how many laps had I run by now?
'Ah. It's 30 laps now, huh.'
It felt like I'd already been running for 30 minutes, yet it was still only 30 laps.
I'm falling way short compared to my active-duty days. Back then, I think I knocked out 20 laps in 12 minutes.
Wait, why was I running again?
'Was it because of Karl?'
There's no way she would push me this far.
I was sweating so much it reached the point of dehydration, yet that kind-hearted savage made me end up in this state? Fat chance.
"Ah..."
Dammit.
My vision was blurring.
The heart that had been pounding away since earlier was gradually coming to a stop. How should I put it—it felt like it was turning rigid.
My body was burning hot. It was hard to believe that despite being this hot, I wasn't sweating anymore.
Ah. The strength in my legs...
"Stop!"
- Teol-seok.
Along with a sharp voice, the world flipped upside down.
"You crazy bastard. You actually ran 50 laps. And you were trying to run even more, at that."
I ran 50 laps?
Ah, did I... But I can't remember. My body was so hot that my stomach felt nauseous and my chest hurt.
"Hey! You, who sent you? Do you know if businesses tank or not when someone croaks from physical conditioning at a training center?"
"How am I supposed to know that..."
"You fucking bastard! You cunning little rat. Are you trying to pull one over on me?"
What is she even talking about? This crazy bitch.
She seemed to be saying something to me, but I couldn't hear it at all. My ears kept growing dim...
"Hey! Bring the contract. I need to get this bastard's thumbprint before he passes out."
"Yes, ma'am!"
"You little bastard. Better steel yourself from now on. I'm going to work you to the bone with the full course from now on. Don't even dream of running away! It's the training you wanted, after all."
On this day, I passed out for a solid four hours.
And I found out later after waking up, that I got to take the high-end lessons I wanted for a year and a half—completely free of charge.
...Why of all numbers was it a year and a half?