Chapter 15
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Leonhard Belkain
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After the morning's mock battles concluded, a short break followed.
The instructors, who had watched all the morning matches, rose from their seats with satisfied expressions.
“Hahaha, I’m quite looking forward to the clash between Platoon 1 and Platoon 3.”
“Platoon 2 wasn’t lacking, but Platoon 1 was just a cut above.”
“But Platoon 4… they seem to have a lot of internal friction.”
Hearing the other instructors, the leader of Platoon 4 let out a deep sigh.
It seemed like the men had fallen apart after the crawling exercise.
*‘…It can’t be helped.’*
This must be the extent of their capabilities.
Still, it was a shame that while a few of them seemed to be trying to pull things together, the overall atmosphere wasn't changing easily.
“So, this afternoon it’s Platoon 1 versus Platoon 4, and Platoon 2 versus Platoon 3?”
“That’s right. Then the winning platoons will face each other again.”
“It’ll be Platoon 1 and Platoon 3, then.”
After the break, another round of mock battles would be held in the afternoon with different opponents.
But the instructors were already chuckling as they walked away, as if they already knew the outcome.
And so, a sweet respite was given to the trainees…
“That wasn’t as hard as I thought.”
“Still, Platoon 2 wasn’t half bad.”
“Don’t you think Platoon 4 got completely wrecked? The mood over there seems pretty grim too.”
At someone’s remark, the platoon members who were listening nodded in agreement.
“Those bastards, I saw them earlier. They were just blaming each other, saying ‘you did this wrong,’ ‘you did that wrong.’”
“Tsk! Is it really anyone’s fault when you lose a team battle? You lost because you couldn’t work together.”
“You’ll always find guys who blame others, no matter where you go. Guess Platoon 4 just has a few more of them.”
At that, Kyle cracked a grin and burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! Not that we’ll ever lose, but if any of you start blaming others, I’ll fold your spine backward, so be ready.”
“…Kyle, when you say it, it sounds like you’re serious. Please don’t talk like that.”
“Shit, I already imagined my spine folding backward.”
“Such a morbidly imaginative bastard.”
The other platoon members shivered and spoke playfully, but…
“…I’m serious, though?”
Kyle’s eyes just glinted.
Watching him, Demian spoke up.
“Enough nonsense. Everyone, eat up.”
“Yeah! That’s our platoon leader. You already brought the rations?”
Everyone welcomed Demian, who had brought snacks along with some other platoon members.
As Demian plopped down, his platoon mates approached him.
“Demian, our next match is against Platoon 4, right?”
“I suppose so. There are only four platoons, after all.”
At Demian’s calm reply, the platoon members seemed to be brimming with motivation already.
“That slit-eyed bastard who called Demian a brat. I’m going to smash his face in with my shield.”
“Sorry, but I’ve already called dibs on him. You just clear a path.”
“But from the way they’re fighting, doesn’t it seem like it’ll be over too easily?”
“You never know. Maybe meeting us will suddenly boost their combat power and they’ll fight like berserkers.”
“Still, how dare he speak so insolently to our platoon leader! Hmph!”
Demian had already become an indispensable presence to the members of Platoon 1.
Amidst the platoon members’ chatter, Demian simply ate the food he’d brought and smirked.
And after the sweet break ended…
“Platoon 3 wins!”
The match between Platoon 2 and Platoon 3 ended in a one-sided victory for Platoon 3.
Well, Platoon 2’s fierce resistance in the middle was noteworthy, but breaking through Platoon 3 proved difficult.
“Wow… they’re pretty good.”
“They’ve got some moves.”
The members of Platoon 1, who were watching, were inwardly impressed.
More than anything, they were struck by how well the men synchronized their movements. But…
“Still not good enough to beat us.”
“Yeah, now for Platoon 4.”
“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
The platoon members’ eyes were already burning with anticipation for their encounter with Platoon 4.
Seeing this, Demian began to arrange the formation and addressed his men.
“Alright… our opponents are already exhausted. And as we saw earlier, their teamwork is a complete mess.”
Watching them fight amongst themselves after their defeat to Platoon 3 was almost embarrassing.
It was safe to say their teamwork was non-existent.
They weren't a single formation, just forty individual soldiers standing around.
“But I have no intention of going easy on them. In fact, I plan to crush them faster and more decisively.”
“Agreed.”
“Of course! We feel the same way.”
“Those bastards. They have to pay the price for running their mouths.”
The platoon members united, their resolve soaring. Demian grinned.
“This will be over in an instant, so everyone focus.”
“Okay!”
“Roger!”
Though the command came from a thirteen-year-old Demian, the fact of his age no longer registered in the minds of the Platoon 1 members.
He was simply their commander.
Soon, the instructor’s shout echoed.
“Begin!”
“Let’s go.”
Demian’s order was given.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Platoon 1, in a triangular formation, moved quickly, charging toward Platoon 4’s square formation.
In its current state, Platoon 4 was so precarious they could be broken just by a simple charge, without needing a formation.
But to be more certain, more complete…
*‘I will crush you.’*
The moment Demian’s eyes flashed, Kyle, at the head of the formation, let out a yell and charged forward.
“Uraaaaaaah!”
With a shield in each hand, he crashed directly into the front line of Platoon 4.
Crash!
“Uwaaargh!”
“Wh-what the!”
“Aaaaaaaargh!”
Kyle’s charge precisely pierced the gap between the soldiers.
Like a sandcastle before a wave, they crumbled.
It was understandable.
The first time experiencing Kyle’s monstrous strength, ‘shocking’ was the only word that came to mind.
Slit-Eyes’s eyes widened as he watched his front line get breached in an instant.
Though, of course, they only got a little bigger.
“What are you doing! Brace yourselves and hold the line!”
*You idiots!*
He wanted to shout the last part, but there was no time.
The enemy had already become a single spear, penetrating deep into Platoon 4’s formation.
“Protect the flag! Shield bearers, block any enemy that comes forward! Spearmen, attack from the sides!”
Slit-Eyes frantically issued commands.
At his orders, the Platoon 4 members inside moved hastily, trying to put up some resistance.
But…
Fwip!
The expression on Slit-Eyes’s face darkened as he saw Demian leap over the soldiers and rush toward him in an instant.
“I told you I’d remember, didn’t I?”
“…Ah.”
Their conversation in front of the administration office.
Slit-Eyes looked at Demian, flustered. But…
“Do I look like a scarecrow to you?!”
Slit-Eyes thrust his spear at Demian.
*‘Predictable.’*
Even before the spear was thrust, Demian could clearly see his movement.
Swish!
He was aiming for his opponent's face with the spear.
Lightly tilting his head to the side to dodge the attack, Demian immediately thrust his own spear between the man’s arm and his weapon.
Thwack!
“Kugh!”
Then, with a light press of his spear, the man’s arm was crushed, causing him to scream and drop his weapon.
“Idiot.”
On a battlefield, dropping your weapon like that means instant death.
Demian looked at him with pity and focused mana into his left fist.
And…
Thwump!
With a dull thud, Demian’s fist slammed into the man’s right side.
It was a blow that had knocked even the monstrous Kyle unconscious in a single hit.
Struck by Demian’s fist, Slit-Eyes couldn’t even scream as he collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth.
Thud.
Demian immediately picked up the flag the man had been holding and declared.
“This is our victory.”
“Woooooaaaaah!”
“That’s Demian for you!”
“Damn, that was so clean!”
The match was over in an instant, before they could even do much.
It was arguably the fastest victory out of all the platoon mock battles.
The trainees of Platoon 4 stared, jaws agape, at the martial prowess of the boy they had called a brat.
“D-Didn’t they say he was thirteen?”
“I think I just heard a sound like a hammer hitting something…”
Gulp.
Since Slit-Eyes had been knocked out, another trainee took command when the roles were reversed.
But the result was not much different.
“Platoon 1 is victorious!”
When the match finally ended with Platoon 1’s victory, the instructors watching gave Demian a pleased look.
“He’s practically a prodigy.”
“…He might even be more skilled than us instructors.”
“Hahahaha, I honestly can’t deny that.”
Just as the instructors were chuckling amongst themselves…
“Well now, is something amusing happening?”
“…?”
The instructors’ eyes widened at the appearance of a man who had suddenly shown up.
“Glory to the Kingdom!”
“G-Glory to the Kingdom!”
The instructors saluted, clenching their right fists and placing them over their left chests.
The middle-aged man nodded in response.
He had wavy brown hair.
A black eyepatch was his trademark, and a scruffy beard covered his chin and the area below his nose.
His skin was rough and cracked like a dried-up riverbed, but his gaze was as sharp as a well-honed blade.
Leonhard Belkain.
A commoner-born honorary noble, he was a training instructor for the 3rd Division, known as the most intense in the kingdom.
He was respected by many instructors for his numerous past achievements and for producing countless skilled warriors.
Leonhard’s gaze shifted somewhere.
“Is that the kid you were talking about?”
“Yes, sir.”
Leonhard’s eyes were now fixed on Demian below.
* * *
A small commotion erupted at the 3rd Training Center.
An unexpected guest had arrived.
“…What’s with all the noise?”
Returning to the barracks after the morning and afternoon mock battles, Demian sensed the noisy atmosphere of the training center.
A platoon member who had gone to check things out came back into the barracks and said.
“Well, it looks like someone important showed up.”
“How important could they be to cause such a fuss? Did the battalion commander show up or something? Hehe.”
As another platoon member chuckled, the one who had gone to check shook his head.
“Hey, if the battalion commander was here, do you think we’d be sitting around like this? He’d have us cleaning the whole training center.”
“Hahahaha, you’ve got a point. So who is he? The important guy?”
At that question, the scout replied.
“They say he’s a famous training instructor from the 3rd Division. A legend among instructors, apparently. Heh. You should have seen them, they were all standing at attention. Hahaha.”
At those words, Demian, who had been sitting in a corner tending to his shield and spear, froze.
He then asked the soldier.
“A training instructor from the 3rd Division?”
“That’s what they said.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ah, his name… I heard it. Lian…hardt, was it?”
“Leonhard.”
“Oh, yeah! Leonhar… huh? Demian, where are you going!”
The platoon members tilted their heads as Demian suddenly bolted out of the barracks.
“…What’s with him?”
Leonhard Belkain.
The moment he heard that name, Demian ran as if he’d been struck by lightning.
*‘No way… no way…?’*
Is that man really here?
The 3rd Division was connected to the 3rd Training Center, but it was a world away.
He had thought he wouldn’t be able to meet him until much, much later.
As Demian ran toward the administration building, he saw someone approaching from the opposite direction.
Demian slowly came to a halt and looked at him.
It was really… Leonhard.
“Hm? Isn’t this soldier Demian?”
“Oh, Demian! We were just on our way to see you.”
Brian, who was standing next to him, said upon seeing Demian. But in that moment…
Thwip!
Demian snapped his feet together, clenched his right fist, and placed it over his left chest.
“Glory to the Kingdom!”
A corner of Leonhard’s mouth lifted slightly at the crisp salute.
He, too, clenched his right hand and placed it over his left chest.
“Is your name Demian?”
“Yes, it is.”
*Master…*
Demian swallowed the unspoken word as he gazed at him.