Chapter 232
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Custom Training for Late Bloomers
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Cadet Romi - Excellent instantaneous acceleration.
Solid fundamentals suggest considerable effort invested. Capable of unleashing explosive power through a sturdy build, but the growth approach is misguided.
Cadet Rudia – Magic casting speed is exceptionally fast.
However, innately insufficient mana reserves. Suspected issues with mana storage in her circles. Also frequently relies on intuition for spell calculations. In such cases, limitations become glaringly apparent with even slight increases in complexity.
Cadet Basel…
He paused the pen he'd been scribbling with and narrowed his eyes.
Quite some time had passed since the sparring began.
Some cadets lay groaning on the ground, unable to rise, while others panted heavily but still struggled to their feet.
Their bodies were covered in wounds, their cadet uniforms shredded into rags by the rough floor—yet Luna, their opponent, stood pristine in her spotless white attire, not a speck of dust on her.
An overwhelming gap. A one-sided difference in power.
It was only natural from the start.
How futile was it for these non-Experts to challenge Luna, whom even Melissa couldn't lay a finger on?
The Imperial Academy typically had cadets of varied ages.
Being older didn't automatically make one a senior, nor did being younger make one a junior.
There were no age restrictions for enrollment in this world, so even classmates could have significant age gaps.
Cadets entered the academy according to their circumstances or forged their own paths independently.
The boys before him were all in their late teens or equivalent—no one over twenty.
In truth, they were hopelessly late compared to those who'd managed their mana pathways from childhood.
But as the saying goes, realizing you're late is when you're earliest.
Coldly speaking, that's only half right—the other half is wrong.
When it doesn't work, it just doesn't. The countless martial families across the continent don't grind their kids from childhood because they're idiots.
It's because the competition in this world is so fierce that you get weeded out otherwise.
That's why age is always brought up when discussing realm achievements.
These kids had started from an unfair position compared to their competitors even before the race began.
And without early education, having to tackle advanced training—how easy could that be?
The Imperial Academy was renowned as prestigious, but most such cadets dropped out or were expelled during coursework.
Usually, only one or two would remain at this stage, but unusually, nearly ten had stuck it out this time.
They endured through sheer grit, but following standard procedure, this was their limit.
For those thrown into an unfair starting line, this was the end.
Thud!!
With the final cadet collapsing, gasping for breath, the sparring came to a close.
"Damn it!! Goddamn it!"
One cadet spat in frustration.
"It's over?"
"Yeah, over. Can't move anymore."
Yet the gazes of the fallen cadets burned undimmed.
Hostility toward me. Hatred. Frustration. Even killing intent.
Diverse emotions, but one thing in common: not a single one had given up.
These guys have something else in common too.
Every last one of them has sky-high pride.
Intense competitive spirit, maybe.
That's how they'd lasted this long.
"What are you going to do with us now?"
One cadet asked me directly.
I swept my gaze over the clipboard in my hand.
"Seems you've shown all your cards. I've got the full picture now."
At my words, Luna beckoned as if she'd been waiting, and multicolored lights enveloped the cadets, healing them en masse.
"Huh?"
Their eyes widened as their bodies healed in an instant.
"What the…?"
I scanned the bewildered group and asked,
"Feeling hard done by?"
"…"
"Pissed off as hell?"
"…"
No reply again. But I pressed on.
"You would be. The ones without any fight in them wouldn't have lasted this long. The half-hearted types with middling grit would've bailed on the unfair reality from the get-go."
At my words, a girl cadet let tears stream down in frustration.
"What right do you have to cry? You think the enemy on the battlefield will spare you if you bawl like that?"
"That's too harsh! You bastard!!"
One cadet shouted furiously, and I shrugged.
"Look at that? So you still know I'm your instructor?"
"What does that matter? You're just a filthy jerk planning to kick us out anyway. We were screwed for trusting Professor Rommel."
I chuckled at their outburst.
"You're all accepted, for now. With that level of grit, you might just keep up with my classes a bit."
"What?"
They froze in unison.
"What do you mean…?"
"How can I gauge your potential with those defeated faces screaming 'it's hopeless'? I've seen what I needed—now get up. I've only got a month with you. Time's short, so we're doing intensive training."
Only then did realization dawn: my earlier barbs were all an act. They stared blankly.
"That was all fake…?"
"Half-fake. If you hadn't shown that grit, I'd have expelled you all for real. At that level, even if I dragged you up, you'd crash back down. I'm not the type to pour water into a leaky bucket."
I only pour where it counts.
I have no intention of babysitting them indefinitely.
So I can only teach those who'll forge ahead once I clear the path.
"No class today. Real lessons start tomorrow. They'll be brutal, so only come if you're dead set on growing. I won't stop you."
They exchanged glances at my words.
Then they dispersed.
"How many do you think will show?"
"Hard to say. Gut feeling… all of them."
"How're you planning to teach them?"
"No magic bullet for the root issues."
Teaching them my swordsmanship would make them stronger, sure. Feeding them elixirs would amp it up more.
But I won't.
No reason to teach them my arts, no loyalty to hunt elixirs for them.
Still.
"Academy theory's one thing, but practicals like swordsmanship and magic are built around those who've laid foundations since childhood."
"True enough."
"Think late starters like them can keep up? Of course not. The ones who could were always going to make it from the start."
In the end, they need tailored education suited to their circumstances.
This seems easier than I thought?
After countless experiments on myself over the years, ways to grow others started coming naturally into view. Felt oddly novel.
Such an experience. Utterly unfamiliar.
The promised day dawned.
As expected, all ten cadets showed up without a single dropout.
Eleven including Melissa.
Those were the ones under my charge.
They gathered at the training grounds in comfortable attire, not their usual cadet uniforms.
"Everyone here?"
They answered my question with silence.
"Cut the chit-chat. Let's dive in. Time's not on our side."
I scanned the seated group.
After a moment's deliberation, I launched into the first lesson.
"First, let's address your problems. The academy's curriculum is flawless. You know that, right?"
They glanced at each other cautiously before nodding.
"Y… yes."
"Yes my ass. Look at yourselves—does that sound right?"
Michellea Bisilis, the noble-born girl, hesitantly raised her hand.
"Wr… wrong…"
"You saying the curriculum slaved over by academy professors is a mess?"
"N… no!!"
She blurted in panic.
The cadets' faces screamed, What the hell is this guy doing?
Not this, not that—what then?
They seemed to think it, but no one spoke up easily.
"That's your situation right now. The curriculum's perfect. But it doesn't apply to you. Flawless for others. Utterly idiotic for you."
These kids need to fill their foundational gaps before following the academy path.
"You're all fundamentally deficient right now."
"We've trained day and night…"
A boy's dejected mutter rippled softly through the group.
They all shared the sentiment.
"Not the 'basics' you know. Your rivals from prestigious houses trained elite cultivation methods or systematic regimens from childhood. Sure, some geniuses grew effortlessly without effort. But you're not them."
Starting without what others get from the outset—how could you match their pace?
"From now on, when I call your name, drop everything else and do only what I assign."
I called the top name on the roster—a girl.
"Romi."
"Y… yes?!"
The sword-using boy.
"You start with stretching. Now."
"Stretching?"
As he looked puzzled, I pulled out aura stones from the academy supplies and arranged them in a space.
Then I released aura to resonate the stones, creating a specific circulating aura pattern.
I nodded toward it.
"Get in. You're stretching all day. But maximize your aura circulation while you do."
No arguments—he entered the aura stone enclosure and began moving, face quizzical.
His sturdy build made him a bit stiff.
"Next, Cadet Rudia."
"Yes."
A girl rose tensely.
"You're doing mini-games. Put your hand on the back of these magic circle papers and identify the hidden one on the front. Simple: use mana to sense it without peeking. But clock under three seconds per check."
Luna fluttered dozens of white sheets in her hands; the girl blinked in confusion.
"Will that… help? If it resonates with mana, I can pick it up quick… It's my specialty…"
"Not as easy as you think. Those don't look like plain paper, do they?"
Luna grinned slyly, flapping the sheets again—the magic circles shimmered and obscured.
"What the?!"
"Your casting speed's already confirmed fast. Standard methods would be trivial, same as always. But your issues run deep."
"Wait! Romi's got something way easier…"
She flinched mid-protest. Romi's face inside the aura stones looked grim.
"Grrgh?! What is this?!"
Not easy at all. Thinking it mere stretching would lead straight to hell.
"No results? Luna gives full-body massages."
Luna crushed a pebble in her hand to dust with a poof, making the girl gulp.