A Week at Helikel Canyon
A full week had already passed since their arrival at the Helikel Canyon stronghold.
Arteon still spent each day buried in a relentless grind of work.
The shock of reuniting with his platoon members had not lasted long. The joy of that first meeting had been brief, and the training that resumed immediately after had filled the space it left behind.
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!"
A roar split the dawn air. Alongside it, some thirty bare-chested soldiers pounded along the canyon's outer path in a single line.
"Haaah…! Haaah…!"
"Shit, I must be out of my mind…"
"That demon of a platoon leader… why the hell was I so happy to see him… damn it…!"
That first day of reunion had been pure emotion. But emotion faded fast, and with the return of training came the return of pain.
Dawn in Helikel Canyon now began noisily with the 4th Platoon's morning run. Soldiers who had once scowled at the racket now watched them go by with curious eyes.
Awakened troops from the surrounding units murmured as they watched the 4th Platoon under Arteon's lead.
"And another day begins."
"I hear the new platoon leader they brought in is no ordinary man?"
At the question, the soldier beside him turned with an incredulous look.
"It's Arteon. The master of Helikel Canyon."
"…!"
"…You didn't know?"
"Th-that guy?"
Watching his startled comrade, the soldier clicked his tongue.
"Tsk tsk. You've been here over a week and you still didn't know?"
"Th-then it kind of makes sense. Anyone who isn't training like that… wouldn't be able to pull off something that insane."
Before long, Arteon's name had spread through every unit gathered at Helikel Canyon. No one who had taken part in the canyon's recapture failed to know the soldier who had claimed the greatest credit.
And thanks to that, even before the war truly began, the 4th Platoon was already drawing stares from every direction — amazement, envy, and a measure of concern all mixed together.
"One, two, three, four! One-two-three-four! One-two-three-four!"
"Louder!"
Arteon's shout rolled across the canyon, and the soldiers answered with even greater force as they ran.
In this biting cold they had stripped to the waist entirely, yet none of them felt the chill. Instead their skin burned a deep red, and white steam poured steadily from their bodies.
Arteon's gaze settled calmly on his men. Every motion of the soldiers running beside him registered in his eyes.
These bastards…
He could tell they had not slacked off for a single day after he left. If anything, their bodies were harder than before. The fact that not one man had fallen out of a run this brutal was proof enough.
And more than that…
What surprised him further was that several among them had already reached the stage of handling mana. Mana could be gathered deliberately through a cultivation method, but it could also awaken naturally through pure physical tempering.
Of course, the men themselves still seemed unaware. But to Arteon's eyes it was plain as day.
I don't know how much time we'll have going forward… but this is worth working with.
To face the Kar Tribe beyond this canyon, they would need to grow at least one full step stronger than they were now. The sight of real potential tugged the corner of Arteon's mouth upward.
"Halt!"
"Haaah…! Haaah…!"
"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"
"I almost… haaah… died… haaah… for real. Haaah… haaah…"
Every chest heaved as they gulped for air. But not a single pair of eyes looked broken.
And then—
"Fall in!"
Grein, at the head of the line, bellowed the order, and the platoon snapped into formation with practiced speed.
Arteon spoke.
"From now on, morning runs continue at this intensity. And one more thing."
He drew a thin cloth mask from his pocket.
"You run wearing these."
"Masks, sir…?"
"Won't breathing get too hard if we wear those while running?"
One soldier asked carefully. Arteon nodded.
"That's exactly why. It will push your lung capacity harder than it is now."
The northern cold did not always permit even easy breathing. Training for that in advance could mean the difference between life and death in extreme conditions.
But—
"…He's a demon."
"Crazy… He's trying to kill us for sure."
A few men muttered under their breath. Arteon smirked.
"Anyone who just complained, step forward. I'll show you what real training looks like."
"N-no, sir!"
"Platoon Leader, I love youuuuu!"
A sudden love confession rang through the canyon. The other soldiers snickered, but the man who had spoken kept swallowing nervously. He knew all too well that crossing Arteon the wrong way meant you might not even leave bones to bury.
Arteon only gave a short laugh and addressed the platoon.
"I plan to add new training going forward, so steel yourselves."
"If I may ask, sir… what kind of training did you have in mind?"
Grein, standing at the very front, inquired carefully.
Arteon answered.
"Mana cultivation method and horsemanship."
"…Sir?"
For a moment every face went rigid.
"We're going to learn a mana cultivation method?"
"And horsemanship on top of that…? Do we even have reason to ride horses up north?"
Questions spread, but the confusion was short-lived.
"Silence!"
At Grein's shout, every mouth snapped shut. Once the area was quiet, Grein turned to Arteon.
"We will prepare as ordered. Any further instructions, sir?"
"None. Take personal maintenance time after breakfast until training hours."
"Understood."
Tension and anticipation twisted together, yet the light in the soldiers' eyes was something else entirely. They had suffered half to death under Arteon before — and no one knew better than they did how much they had changed because of it.
Arteon huffed a quiet laugh, turned on his heel, and let the corner of his mouth lift.
If they master a mana cultivation method and learn to use mana…
They could climb to mid 2-star in a single leap. And if the entire platoon reached that level…
One ordinary platoon… with company-grade combat power.
His heart was already starting to race.
But just then—
"You seem awfully busy these days."
"How long have you been watching, sir?"
"Since you gathered the men and started talking about mana cultivation methods."
Isaac's eyes narrowed.
There were hundreds of mana cultivation methods in the world, and their effects varied wildly. Methods with truly exceptional results were so rare they could not be bought for any sum of money; noble houses passed them down as secret family arts.
"What grade of mana cultivation method are you planning to open to the soldiers?"
"At minimum, intermediate grade."
"Intermediate? You're going to release something like that?"
"Yes. It's the method I myself practice."
A lie. What he intended to teach the platoon was a cultivation method he had learned in his previous life. Reaching its full heights was difficult, but its early growth rate rivaled even high-grade — no, top-grade — methods.
However…
Past 3-star, gathering mana became arduous, and breaking through that wall demanded monumental effort. In a sense, it was a method that could place a ceiling on the soldiers' growth.
But even at 3-star, dying becomes a rare thing under most circumstances.
All the more so in this northern land where tomorrow was never guaranteed. And depending on their effort, they could climb higher still — just as his past self had.
Arteon organized his thoughts and looked at Isaac.
"But that isn't why you came to find me."
"…Looking at you, I almost want to call you a saint. Handing out a precious mana cultivation method like that…"
Isaac shook his head.
"Forget it. That's your authority — not my place to comment. It's something else. Someone wants to see your face, and I figured I'd look in on you while I was at it."
"Me, sir?"
"The battalion commander. You needed to pay your respects at least once anyway. Let's go."
Arteon nodded and fell in behind Isaac.
He had always dealt directly with the supreme commander, Velkain, and so had never gone to greet the officers beneath him. Some might have called that arrogance.
In a way, it's fortunate the opportunity came up.
Sooner or later he would need to coordinate with them on operations.
Arteon followed Isaac to the quarters of their battalion commander. The moment they stepped inside—
"Have a seat. First time seeing you like this."
"Steel Hearts! Lieutenant Arteon, reporting to the Battalion Commander!"
Arteon delivered a crisp salute. The battalion commander waved a dismissive hand.
"No need for ceremony. More importantly, I'm glad to finally meet the hero of Helikel Canyon. Do you know who I am?"
"Of course, sir. It is an honor to serve under Major Luokal."
"Haha, you flatter me. I called you here for no great reason — simply to greet you face to face, and to ask a favor."
Arteon glanced at Isaac. Isaac gave a small shake of his head. He didn't know what this was about either.
The battalion commander got to the point.
"You've heard about the newly arriving reinforcements, I take it. Unusually, the bulk of this batch is composed of regular army troops."
Until now, most of those sent north had been men demoted from the center or criminals serving labor sentences. But with a full northern advance now underway, Central Command had filled the ranks largely with carefully selected regulars.
Even so—
"There are still some convicts among them, along with ordinary volunteers. If this northern push succeeds, it will be an unprecedented achievement for the Empire, after all."
The problem was that even the "some" amounted to a considerable number.
Arteon asked carefully.
"How many will be entering our battalion, sir?"
"That secondary force numbers around three thousand. Roughly five hundred of them will be assigned to our battalion. Which means we need instructors to train them… How would you feel about taking the role?"
Isaac stepped in at once.
"Lieutenant Arteon alone, sir?"
"Of course not. We'll assemble a full instructor staff, but I intend to name Lieutenant Arteon as the officer in charge. What do you say?"
He had recently watched Arteon training his platoon. The methods, and the way the men followed him, were more than worthy of serving as an example for other soldiers.
"If those five hundred rise in quality, our unit's combat strength will grow substantially."
"…"
On the surface it sounded like a request, but Arteon knew better.
There's no such thing as a request in the army.
The only difference was whether it came wrapped in courtesy or forced outright. And if they were handing him instructor duty…
This is a chance to properly fill out the 4th Platoon's roster.
A standard platoon ran about forty men. The 4th currently held only thirty. Train five hundred, and he could surely pull ten decent ones from the lot.
Arteon settled his thoughts. Then the battalion commander looked at him again.
"Will you take it?"
Delaying any longer would only make things awkward. Arteon nodded at once.
"It is an honor to be entrusted with such an important duty. I will devote myself fully to their training."
"Reassuring to hear. I'll let you know when the reinforcements arrive."
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, and one more thing."
After a brief pause, the battalion commander narrowed his eyes and continued, looking at Arteon.