How to Tame a Beast
Velkain's office.
An untidy stack of documents lay on the desk. Velkain flipped slowly through them, his gaze fixed and unhurried.
And then—
"Arteon took a post as an instructor?"
"Yes, sir. It seems Major Luokal has taken a particular interest in Lieutenant Arteon."
Claw's cold, emotionless voice answered from where he stood before the desk.
A faint smile touched Velkain's lips.
"He stands out no matter where he goes. Not a bad choice."
For the boy—and for us.
Velkain closed the documents, rose from his seat, and walked to the window.
The northern wind still howled with force, yet outside a fair number of soldiers were already at work, continuing both their drills and the remaining labor.
Velkain murmured almost to himself.
"Skill is skill… but he seems to have a decent hand at teaching as well."
Ever since Arteon had been assigned as leader of the Fourth Platoon, reports on them had been coming in with surprising regularity.
Some tolerated the noisy early-morning spectacle; others resented it. Most, however, looked on with approval.
It was hard work, yes—but everyone understood it was the right work.
Besides…
The new reinforcements arriving this time.
Velkain already knew the kind of men Luokal had handed to Arteon.
They were less soldiers than half-wild beasts—or else worthless trash still chasing half-baked dreams.
Taming uncontrolled animals like that… ordinary methods will never work.
Velkain recalled the first moment he had met Arteon—when the boy had killed the spy Moldrek in a single stroke and returned alive from the punishment detail on Bareda Hill.
Back then Arteon had been raw wilderness itself.
A boy whose head barely reached Velkain's chest, yet those eyes had sent a chill through him for the first time in years.
The corner of Velkain's mouth twisted into a crooked smile laced with both interest and a sharp edge.
He turned his head toward Claw.
"Give him full support. I don't care if a few dozen of them die."
"…Understood."
Anyone who could not survive this training would die within a day once the real war began. The northern battlefield was that merciless.
Claw lifted his gaze to Velkain. The commander's eyes glittered with the same keen, serious light they had once shown on the front lines.
Claw hesitated a moment, then stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"There is also a report that… their faction has been mixed into this round of reinforcements."
"…"
A heavy silence settled over the office.
Velkain's fingertips tapped lightly against the window frame.
"Is that so."
"Will you leave them alone?"
"…It won't be easy, but root them out discreetly. First we need to learn what they intend."
"Understood."
Claw bowed deeply once more and withdrew with measured steps.
When the door closed behind him, quiet filled the room.
"…Haa."
Velkain exhaled a long breath as he stared out the window. A strange disgust flickered across his face, and deep in his eyes a dense killing intent stirred.
"Honestly… I'm sick of it."
With that low mutter, Velkain once again pictured the northern battlefield that even he could barely endure.
The newly arrived reinforcements.
Those assigned to receive instruction under Arteon had been gathered in one place.
Every last one of them was difficult to control. More than eighty percent had committed crimes of greater or lesser degree and been sent here as a result.
Their temperaments differed wildly; so did their purposes.
A dozen instructors stood before them, while roughly a hundred soldiers ringed the area with spears and shields at the ready.
Even so, the grounds were pure chaos.
"What the fuck are you staring at, you son of a bitch!"
"You fox-faced bastard! Do I have to rip your mouth open before you'll lower your head?!"
Curses and shouts erupted from every direction. A few of the men had already begun throwing punches mere seconds after arriving, venting their rage without restraint.
Arteon's brow furrowed at the sight.
…Worse than I expected.
Perhaps because the manpower shortage had been so desperate. Anyone who had so much as a minor mark against them seemed to have been dumped straight into the North.
The surrounding soldiers and the other instructors shouted themselves hoarse trying to restore order, but their voices had no effect whatsoever. A few of the new arrivals even screamed as though ready to charge the soldiers and instructors on the spot.
"…"
Arteon watched for a moment longer, then let out a short sigh.
He walked forward at a measured pace and drew up his mana.
His voice, thick with power, rolled low across the entire grounds.
"Everyone. Silence."
A single sentence.
Yet that one sentence carried not mere force, but dense killing intent and overwhelming presence.
The resonance sliced through the air and sank into every eardrum present.
In an instant the murmuring soldiers flinched and froze where they stood.
Whoooooom—!
A current of blue light began to coil and ripple along Arteon's body.
The moment they saw it, every person on the grounds felt as though a colossal beast had seized them by the throat.
"…"
"…"
Gulp.
A place noisier than a marketplace fell silent in a heartbeat.
Heavy quiet pressed down on every shoulder; the sound of someone swallowing was clearly audible.
It was the stillness of men barely drawing breath on the threshold of death.
Arteon continued, voice cold.
"From this moment forward, anyone who causes a disturbance will be punished at once. As for how severe that punishment will be… I'll leave that to each of your imaginations."
A chill spread through the ranks.
One-star, two-star, three-star—those were only numbers. The presence unleashed by a four-star who could freely wield aura was something beyond ordinary comprehension.
Most people found their knees giving way merely from facing it; standing upright became nearly impossible.
More than five hundred men filled the grounds, yet—
H-he's just one man…
I-I can't even breathe…
The pressure of a single person swallowed them all and still had room to spare.
And then—
"Fuck, what a load of shit! Punishment? Then kill me, you bastard!"
A man in a corner bellowed at the top of his lungs.
The soldiers nearest him immediately began beating him with their clubs, yet—
"You fucking bastards! Fucking bastards!"
He kept spitting curses even as he was forced to his knees.
Clank.
Heavy restraints of iron chain bound both his ankles and both his wrists.
He was so tall that the heads of the soldiers standing beside him failed to reach even his shoulders; deep scars showed through his torn upper garment.
Someone spoke in a stunned voice.
"Ka-Kamarkan! That's Kamarkan of the Turak Tribe!"
"Kamarkan? That madman Kamarkan?"
His long hair had hidden his face, making recognition difficult—but the shout sent fresh turmoil rippling through the crowd.
Kamarkan lifted his head.
"Yeah! I'm Kamarkan! The great murdering demon who tore a hundred men apart—Kamarkan!"
He roared like a wild beast.
The soldiers continued to rain blows down on him, yet the light in the eyes fixed on Arteon never dimmed.
Arteon spoke.
"Enough. Stop and step back."
At his words the club-wielding soldiers hesitated, then retreated a pace.
Arteon walked through the ranks of conscripts toward Kamarkan.
Breathing hard, Kamarkan forced himself upright once more.
"Don't fuck around with these shackles on me… Let's have a proper fight. If you break me, I'll follow every order without a word of complaint."
Each time his shoulders heaved, white breath spilled out like the exhalation of a monster. The killing intent in his eyes could not be called human, and even in this freezing weather steam rose steadily from his body.
Arteon regarded him in silence.
A familiar situation.
No…
It had always been this way.
In fact, this was convenient.
There was no method of persuasion that would work on so many men at once with words alone.
And if they were beasts rather than men, that was even more true.
He knew better than anyone how to handle creatures like these.
Arteon nodded.
"Release him."
"It's dangerous. This man killed dozens of soldiers."
"I'll take full responsibility. Release him."
Arteon looked at the manacles on Kamarkan's wrists and ankles.
They were no ordinary restraints; they possessed the ability to suppress mana.
And if he had truly killed dozens of soldiers…
At least two-star… or perhaps higher?
The thought did not linger long.
"Th-then the responsibility is Lieutenant Arteon's alone. We have none."
"Yes."
With that short answer the restraints came free.
Clank!
Thud!
The thick iron chains and cuffs crashed to the ground.
At once the power that had been held in check flooded outward in every direction.
More than I thought…
Beyond expectation.
A Turak tribesman from the South.
Arteon did not know the details, yet he had heard of them before.
Just as the Chebilk Tribe possessed unique strength among the Kar, the Empire itself held immigrants from various tribes with their own special traits.
The Turak were one such people.
Yet that very "specialness" always made them attractive prey for those who styled themselves noble.
I believe they are often used as slaves for the amusement of the aristocracy…
Perhaps this man was one of those victims—someone who had killed men who deserved killing and paid for it by being sent here.
"…Still, it can't be helped."
"What the hell are you muttering about by yourself?!"
Whoooosh—!
Kamarkan snatched up the massive fallen shackle and swung it at Arteon.
The iron restraint came down like a whip, aiming to crush him from above.
Bang!
Arteon slipped aside by the narrowest margin. The shackle smashed into the ground, spraying snow in every direction and sending a heavy tremor through the earth.
Those standing nearby clicked their tongues at Kamarkan's brute strength and instinctively backed away another step or two.
Yet—
"I bear you no ill will. However… I have something I must do right now."
So—
"I'll only do this once. Tense every muscle in your body and endure it."
Iglis was already in Arteon's hand. The weapon shifted into spear form as he slowly raised it overhead.
Every eye present fixed on the spear he held.
Whoooooom—!
Blue light bloomed softly along Iglis.
An indescribable pressure followed.
Even men standing more than twenty meters away found it hard to draw breath; for Kamarkan it was far worse.
Without realizing it, Kamarkan's grip loosened and the shackle slipped from his fingers.
And in that instant—
Whish.
Iglis swept toward Kamarkan.
KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH—!
A deafening roar shook the entire grounds.