Chapter 204: The Wheel of Destiny (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 204: The Wheel of Destiny (4)
Early morning.
Breathing in the freezing dawn air, Roman Dmitry's direct unit began their training under Chris's command.
"We will begin our run now."
It started as a simple exercise.
At first, they ran at a moderate pace to warm up. Flora Lawrence kept pace well within the crowd of men, her breathing remarkably stable. People usually assumed tacticians had weak stamina, but she had never neglected her physical conditioning while practicing archery.
Then, the pace gradually quickened.
With no time to stabilize her breathing and her lungs burning from the icy air, Flora did her absolute best to regulate her breath.
Just once.
If her breathing faltered even once, it would be over. She refused to fall behind on the very first day of her week-long test.
"Haa, haa."
About an hour passed.
Drenched in sweat from the dawn run, steam rose from her tied-up hair. In stark contrast to her burning body, the air brushing against her skin felt freezing. For a morning workout, the intensity was brutally high right out of the gate. A typical army would finish their morning run in thirty minutes at most, but Dmitry's soldiers accepted this grueling pace as just another ordinary routine.
The end finally seemed to be in sight.
But just when she thought they would stop, Chris suddenly veered onto a mountain path.
No way.
Her dread became reality. The real run was only just beginning.
Chris began sprinting up the steep incline. Her breath caught in her throat and pounded in her brain, bringing on a wave of dizziness. Her head spun. If she had known the intensity would be this high, she would have paced herself. She never imagined that after running for an entire hour, the actual run still lay ahead.
Above all, she couldn't help but marvel inwardly at the soldiers. Unlike her, their breathing remained completely steady.
"Haa, haa."
Her breathing grew ragged. She had long surpassed the point of pacing herself. Flora Lawrence held on through sheer willpower alone. Noticing her dogged persistence, Chris glanced back and raised his voice.
"Morning runs are training for survival! The battlefield does not care about your circumstances! It doesn't care how early it is, whether you've eaten, or if your stamina is intact. You cannot always fight in perfect condition. Therefore, push yourselves to the limit every single day! Once you have exhausted all your strength to the point where you feel like you're going to die, only then will you see the 'reality' you will face on the battlefield!"
This wasn't training to build a nice physique. It was for survival.
To survive in a place where blood and death ran rampant, their training had to match that exact level of intensity.
"Physical training is necessary for everyone, regardless of their role! Even for those who simply use their minds. The place where your roles shine is not a comfortable barracks, but the open field where the enemy could attack at any moment. If you can do nothing in that moment because you lack stamina, or if you use the urgency of the situation as an excuse, you will not escape death on the battlefield. The same goes for all other roles. Even if your job is simply transporting military rations, your legs must hold out to the very end to fulfill your duty in any terrain!"
It was a direct jab at her.
Looking at Flora Lawrence, who was falling further and further behind, Chris was speaking of her reality.
His words were harsh, but she didn't disagree with them. That was exactly why she hadn't neglected her own training. But the intensity of Dmitry's military training was simply too brutal from the very start.
One hour of warming up.
One hour of actual mountain running.
The grueling two hours of running finally came to an end.
Though she lagged slightly behind the main group, Flora completed the run to the very end. She was pouring sweat like rain, looking as if she might drop dead at any second. Her legs trembled violently. She had dry-heaved several times while running, and with her head spinning, she wanted nothing more than to collapse right there on the dirt. Yet, she gritted her teeth. She wanted to show her strongest side.
But Chris's next words plunged her into the depths of despair.
"We will now begin swordsmanship sparring!"
The training wasn't over. The real hell was only just beginning.
* * *
It was a truly insane schedule.
As they moved into swordsmanship sparring with their stamina pushed to the absolute limit, Chris spoke up:
"The most crucial point on the battlefield is how efficiently you can fight when your stamina is pushed to its absolute limit. For the first ten minutes after clashing with the enemy, you will show the best of your abilities in perfect condition. But after just ten minutes, immense fatigue will wash over you, as if shackles have been bound to your entire body. That is when the real war begins. If your body can still obey your mind's control even when your breathing is ragged and your limbs refuse to move as you want, I assure you, ordinary soldiers will never be able to stand against you."
The purpose of the training was clear.
The absolute limit.
It pushed the soldiers to their breaking point. Although everyone had consumed a massive amount of stamina from the run, they plunged into the sparring without a single word of complaint.
"Huu."
Tap.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sparring was exactly like a real battle.
A Dmitry soldier took a deep breath and fiercely pressed the soldier opposite him. Just as Chris had prefaced, his body was far from its best condition. Yet, his attacks remained incredibly sharp. He steadily targeted vital points, driving his opponent into a corner, but the defending soldier's capabilities were equally formidable.
Intense, life-or-death sparring.
This was the scene unfolding across the entire Training Ground. Flora Lawrence could only watch in utter shock.
...This is their daily training?
Dmitry's training was truly of extreme difficulty.
It was an intensity that would make even knights who had trained their bodies their entire lives shake their heads in disbelief. Yet, Dmitry's soldiers accepted this sequence of events as if it were second nature. That wasn't all. What about the way they sparred? Setting aside their individual martial prowess, they were chillingly menacing despite having just run for two straight hours.
Suddenly, she recalled Dmitry on the battlefield.
They were a mighty army.
They had overwhelmed the soldiers of the Kronos Empire—who were famous for their strength—and had shown not a single hint of disarray even during sudden skirmishes. Back then, she had simply thought it was impressive. Even though they must have been physically exhausted from pursuing the enemy late into the battle, Roman Dmitry's soldiers had unilaterally pushed their opponents back.
The driving force behind that might lay right here in their training.
When they accepted such absurd training as a daily routine, how could they not be strong?
In truth, tempering soldiers through high-intensity training is a very simple theory. But the reason it cannot be applied in reality is that pushing them to their limits breeds resentment among the ranks. Yet, Roman Dmitry's soldiers show no sign of discontent whatsoever. On the contrary, they actively participate in the training, showing a strong desire to improve themselves.
Perfect control.
This was Roman Dmitry's true ability.
Sure rewards and clear results showed the soldiers that the path they walked was not wrong. Trust had been built up, layer by layer.
In the process of bringing down Barco, Hector, Benedict, and Kronos, Dmitry's soldiers had gained the absolute conviction that they would not die as long as they trusted and followed Roman Dmitry. Therefore, no matter how grueling the training was, if they believed their lives depended on it, they had no reason not to follow.
Everyone burned with enthusiasm.
They sparred fiercely, creating dangerous situations that felt like actual combat. They did not worry about injuries. They had faith that Roman Dmitry would take responsibility if an accident occurred. Above all, Dmitry had shown a reliable response to occasional mishaps. Healers waiting nearby immediately treated wounds using expensive potions, and they continuously monitored the soldiers' recovery to ensure their safety.
Those past precedents had created the scene before her eyes.
Flora Lawrence swallowed hard at the intense heat radiating from the men.
...I can't give up either.
It was exhausting.
The stamina she had depleted during the run showed no signs of returning, but Flora walked over to one side and joined the training anyway. Fortunately, she hadn't been assigned an opponent yet. She was merely practicing basic swordsmanship against a wooden dummy, but Chris's sharp gaze did not allow for even a moment of rest.
It was a situation that would have plunged most people into self-doubt.
But Flora Lawrence was different.
Even as she gritted her teeth against her trembling arms, she showed the same fierce enthusiasm as she had at the start.
There's no need to be anxious yet. Since I am not a combat asset, it's only natural that I fall short in physical training.
Not yet.
Her turn to prove herself had not yet come. Their roles were different. Flora accepted her shortcomings and instead reflected on the true meaning of the training.
* * *
A few days later, Chris reported to Roman Dmitry.
"She has been undergoing training without any major issues so far. She collapsed as soon as the first day's training ended, and on the second day, she fainted during the run and showed symptoms of dehydration. However, the moment she regained consciousness, she showed a strong determination to continue. Of course, she has not yet fully adapted to the regimen, but I see no grounds for disqualification."
A lack of stamina was not grounds for disqualification.
If they had expected perfection from the start, none of Dmitry's current soldiers would have remained. Take those from ordinary backgrounds, like Henderson. The reason they could reach their current level was born from their determination to train no matter how depleted their stamina was. Thus, the week-long test was simply a process of verifying that determination. Even if they knew how brutal Dmitry's training was, as long as they had the will to endure it, the path to growth would open for them.
The real issue was Flora Lawrence's role.
"Her combat ability is not particularly outstanding. Her archery is quite accurate, but her practical combat skills are lacking, and she is very weak in close-quarters combat. This is an area that definitely needs improvement. And..."
She was a tactician.
Therefore, the area she needed to prove herself in during the test lay in her strategic capabilities rather than her combat prowess.
"In the tactical training held on the third day, she showed a completely different side of herself. The squad containing Flora won nine out of ten times. Although they lost once to an unorthodox strategy, she still found solutions to unexpected situations until the very end, turning the tide of battle several times over."
Slide.
He handed over a document. It was a record of what had transpired during the tactical training. Roman Dmitry read through it carefully.
Nine victories.
She had followed the textbook. It was a standard approach designed to eliminate variables as much as possible. However, the most notable point was the single defeat at the end. While she generally favored textbook strategies, she also demonstrated excellent adaptability. In fact, that single defeat only occurred because the opposing commander, Kevin, had targeted an incredibly sharp vulnerability. Even so, she had fought a close battle until the bitter end, forcing everyone to acknowledge her ability.
Furthermore, Flora Lawrence had shown this level of capability despite not having fully adapted to Dmitry yet.
Roman Dmitry asked, "Chris. Do you believe Flora Lawrence is someone Dmitry needs?"
At those words, Chris answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Yes. I am certain that Flora Lawrence is a necessary asset for Dmitry."
The week-long test.
This was the moment that brought it to a close.
* * *
The end of the rebellion.
The founding of the Dmitry Duchy.
Half a month had passed since then.
Just as Dmitry was settling into a peaceful life, Thomas, who ran a restaurant in the city, was rushing somewhere in a hurry.
I hope there are still groceries left.
Recently, Dmitry had been experiencing an immense economic boom. People flocked to work in the iron mines, merchants set up stalls to sell to them, and entertainment culture naturally flourished. It was truly a great world to make a living in. Thomas was on his way to procure groceries earlier than expected because too many customers had flooded his restaurant, causing him to run out of stock.
Usually, the markets were completely sold out by morning. Anxious that the ingredients he wanted might already be gone, Thomas couldn't help but quicken his pace.
It was then.
Thud!
Crash.
"Ugh."
As he turned into an alleyway, he collided hard with a man. He was slender, his face concealed by a robe, and he cast a cold glare at Thomas.
"Watch where you're going."
His voice was strangely menacing. Thomas was about to snap back in response to the sudden pain, but upon seeing the man's eyes, he quickly bowed his head. Working in a profession that dealt with people every day, he could get a general sense of someone just by their gaze. The man exuded a highly dangerous aura. Past experience told Thomas that getting into a dispute with this type of person would only end in bloodshed.
"I... I'm sorry."
Thomas's judgment was correct. At the prompt apology, the man averted his gaze and walked away.
After walking for quite some time, the robed man entered a secluded alleyway where few people passed. Suddenly, several figures emerged from the surroundings like shadows.
Their attire was ordinary. They looked like people one could easily find walking down any street. The man spoke in a quiet voice.
"We will carry out the plan three days from now. Until then, avoid causing any trouble. Gather information, particularly regarding Dmitry's security system. I will explain the exact plan right here in two days."
"Understood."
The men withdrew. Then, just as they had first appeared, they vanished as if melting into the shadows.
And then, the man who had given the order also stepped back into the darkness of the alleyway.