Chapter 35: Recruitment (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 35: Recruitment (8)
A single precedent.
That was all it took. Watching Lucas's turn, the remaining applicants realized that underhanded tactics were perfectly acceptable. Naturally, they began to use every dirty trick in the book just to survive a single minute.
"Aaaaargh!"
Swish!
The 72nd challenger.
A massive man let out a wild roar, swinging his greatsword. But such wide, telegraphed movements would never work against Roman. As his blade sliced through empty air, the man desperately scooped up a handful of dirt and stones, hurling them right at Roman's face.
A sudden, unorthodox strike.
Roman simply tilted his head, letting the debris fly past. The moment the man lunged forward for a follow-up attack, Roman's boot planted squarely into his face.
Thud!
"Urgh..."
Blood splattered across the dirt. The man's eyes rolled back into his skull, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground.
"Next."
Foul play wasn't grounds for disqualification. However, the moment someone crossed that line, Roman showed zero mercy. In hindsight, Lucas had been incredibly clever. If he hadn't surrendered exactly when he did, Roman's sword would have shattered at least one of his bones.
The test raged on.
The 80th.
The 90th.
The 100th.
Despite the endless rotation of fresh opponents, not a single man managed to last the one minute Roman had demanded. Those who had initially smirked at the rules of the second test were now staring at him in sheer horror.
This made absolutely no sense.
Roman had fought a hundred consecutive duels, battling continuously for over an hour. By all rights, he should have been gasping for air. Yet, his breathing remained as steady and calm as it had been before the very first match. He showed zero signs of physical exhaustion. This unnatural, monstrous stamina struck terror into the hearts of the remaining applicants. As their turns drew near, they no longer dared to even dream of winning.
They didn't understand Roman.
In a Mountain of Corpses and a Sea of Blood, no enemy would ever show mercy just because your stamina ran low. Failing to control your breathing meant sluggish movements, and in a real battle, that meant joining the corpses littered across the ground.
That was why Baek Joong-hyuk had mastered the art of fighting to the bitter end.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Through this simple, repetitive cycle, the natural mana absorbed with each breath circulated through his body, washing away his physical fatigue.
Roman's current body was still weak. Normally, a hundred consecutive duels would exact a massive physical toll. However, with a physique tempered through Shedding Bones and Rebirth, combined with flawless breath control, Roman fought as though he had just stepped onto the field. Besides, these were mere physical clashes without the active use of mana. For Baek Joong-hyuk, who had once fought for three days and three nights straight during his bloody conquest of Murim, a light skirmish like this could never drain his stamina.
The applicants had miscalculated entirely. They thought delaying their turns would give them an advantage against a tired opponent. Instead, the suffocating dread weighing on their minds only made their own legs too heavy to move.
"Next."
The final challenger. The 120th turn.
He stepped onto the stage with a face already resigned to defeat. Just as everyone expected, he couldn't even last ten seconds, let alone a minute. A single strike brought the man to his knees. His wooden sword shattered upon their very first clash, and he immediately cried out his surrender.
The test was over.
As the grueling ordeal of 120 consecutive duels finally came to an end, the crowd stared up at Roman, utterly dazed.
"...What on earth are we even looking at?"
Even after witnessing it with their own eyes, they couldn't comprehend it. Roman Dmitry. His transformation utterly transcended the boundaries of common sense.
*
With all tests complete, the fact remained: defeat did not necessarily mean disqualification. Chris sent the despairing applicants home, informing them that the final results would be announced in two days.
The following day, Roman handed Chris the list of successful candidates.
"This is the roster of those who passed. From now on, you will be in charge of training these thirty men."
"Understood, my lord."
Thud.
Chris accepted the thick parchment. As he turned to the first page, a familiar name caught his eye.
'Volkan, wasn't it?'
The very first challenger of the second test. He was the massive man who had boldly stepped forward, only to be blown away in an instant. Though his performance in the duel had been lackluster, he was more than qualified to be among the thirty selected.
'My lord must have highly valued Volkan's courage. Even though it was obvious that going last would be advantageous, Volkan stepped up first without a moment's hesitation. Sure, he was utterly crushed. But considering his sheer nerve to take the initiative and his outstanding physical build, he's an exceptionally talented individual—almost too good to be a mere private soldier.'
Rustle.
Chris flipped the page. Most of the names made perfect sense. Even if they hadn't put up a remarkable fight against Roman, those who possessed the right determination and physical attributes had passed.
And then...
'...Henderson?'
It was a completely unexpected name. By all accounts, Henderson was just an ordinary civilian. He had barely scraped through the first test, and during his duel with Roman, he had fought far too passively before ultimately being defeated. Chris had taken it for granted that Henderson would fail. Unlike the other successful candidates, Henderson lacked both the martial drive and the physical qualifications. There seemed to be no logical reason for him to be on this list.
Still, Chris swallowed his doubts, reminding himself that this was his lord's decision. From what he had seen lately, Roman was not a man who did things without a good reason.
However, upon seeing the next page, he couldn't help but speak up.
"Lucas is passing as well?"
"Yes."
"I admit that Lucas is a B-rank mercenary and possesses sufficient talent. But he is a cowardly, underhanded man. Not only did he commit fouls by throwing a dagger and kicking sand during a formal test, but he also surrendered the moment he realized he couldn't win instead of fighting to the bitter end. A man like him is poison on the battlefield. He's a coward who would abandon his comrades at the drop of a hat. How can the other soldiers trust Lucas and fight alongside him?"
Lucas was a textbook mercenary. The type who would discard honor and do absolutely anything just to survive. Chris despised that. As a knight, he lived by a code of honor. Had he been in the challenger's position, he would have died before crying out in surrender. If these were the soldiers he was supposed to lead, he wanted scum like Lucas excluded.
Roman met his gaze. "That is precisely why I passed him."
"...What do you mean by that, my lord?"
"As you said, Lucas might be a coward who would abandon his comrades. However, while everyone else was too paralyzed to even think of breaking the rules, he was the only one who realistically devised a way to face me and put it into action. On the battlefield, that type of person actually shines. They will always look for a way to survive and somehow carve out a path forward. Let me ask you this: just because Lucas fought me differently from the others, does that make you so certain he is a coward who will betray his brothers-in-arms? He only committed fouls because fouls weren't explicitly forbidden. He has yet to do anything that actually betrays our trust."
Chris was left speechless.
Roman was right. Lucas had merely acted pragmatically; there was no concrete basis to judge his true character yet. Suddenly, the words of his master, Jonathan, echoed in his mind.
"The ones who survive on the battlefield are not knights like you and me who can wield Aura. In the midst of death, where blood and screams run rampant, those who can look at the situation calmly and make rational judgments are the ones who survive to the very end. So always keep this in mind: no matter how strong of a swordsman you become, you can still be brought down by the hyenas who hold their breath beneath your feet, waiting for their chance like corpses."
Chris nodded slowly. Just as Roman said, it was too early to judge Lucas. However, there was still one thing he was curious about.
"Is there a specific reason you recruited exactly thirty private soldiers this time? Thirty is not a small number, and managing them will require a significant amount of money and effort. Doesn't the Dmitry family already have its own soldiers and knights?"
Chris's question was perfectly logical. Five months from now, Roman would depart for the battlefield to fulfill his mandatory service. But that was still months away, and there was no reason to prepare this early by recruiting a private force.
The Central Government was not some atrocious organization that would blindly throw conscripted noble forces into the jaws of death. Conscripted noble forces were primarily meant to serve as emergency reserves. They would spend their time in staging areas just behind the front lines, acting as support only when a crisis arose. If they were lucky, many completed their military service without ever seeing a single battle. Since Roman didn't even know where he would be deployed yet, there was no pressing reason to train his own soldiers.
Furthermore, Dmitry was a frontier region. Since battles were exceedingly rare in this area, paying 8 Silver per person to maintain a force of thirty men—starting five months in advance—was a heavy financial burden.
Chris, having served as a deputy knight commander, knew a thing or two about managing people and accounting. He intuitively understood that the number thirty carried a deeper significance. It was a question that had to be asked.
Roman spoke. "As I declared in front of everyone, I have no intention of settling for a quiet life on the frontier. One by one, I will step on whatever lies before me and climb to the very top. If so, who do you think is the immediate enemy I have in mind?"
The first target.
At Roman's question, a single name flashed through Chris's mind.
'No way.'
He wanted to deny it. He knew Roman had become aggressive, but he hadn't realized his lord was harboring such a dangerous, audacious plan.
"Yes."
The culprits behind Roman's near-death experience.
"From this moment on, we prepare for war with the Barco family."
*
At that very moment.
Having secured the approval of the Central Government, the Barco family released an official statement declaring the start of hostilities.
"Trusting in past promises, we have patiently awaited Lawrence's decision. However, they have dragged their noble honor through the mud and betrayed our trust. After long endurance, we have finally resolved to draw our swords. Lawrence's guilt is undeniable. They have failed to repay the debt left by their ancestors, and they have even shown the audacity to refuse to hand over the land pledged as collateral. Therefore, through this statement, we declare to the people of the Cairo Kingdom: if Lawrence does not repay their debt or surrender the collateral land within the next week, the Barco family, with the absolute approval of the Central Government, will declare a Territory War against Lawrence."
A Territory War.
A fierce, bloody conflict where both sides staked everything they owned. By obtaining the approval of the Central Government, the Barco family had secured a legitimate justification to wage it. In the world of nobles, justification was everything. Because they had it, the other nobles of the northeastern region of the Cairo Kingdom would simply stand back and watch the war unfold.
If the marriage between Roman and Flora Lawrence had not fallen through, the Barco family might have acted with far more caution. A marriage alliance between two families signified a bond of blood and kinship. In the aristocratic world, kinship provided a powerful justification, which would have given Dmitry a strong pretext to directly intervene in Lawrence's affairs.
But the marriage had been called off. And now, it was time for Lawrence to pay the ultimate price for their momentary mistake.
"We advise Lawrence to choose wisely. If they remain silent in an attempt to protect their family's wealth, it will not be long before the banner of Barco is planted in the heart of Lawrence. We do not desire war. However, we hope they do not forget that Barco can be more ruthless than anyone else if the need arises."
It was a one-sided ultimatum.
Finally, war was at their doorstep.