Shattering the Coward's Facade
'60, 61, 62.'
The territory soldier confirmed they hadn't even hit one minute twenty seconds yet.
Visually, it was far faster than any other applicants.
So their eyes widened more and more as it went on.
And soon, eighty.
81, 82, 83…
The territory soldier wore an incredulous expression.
Two minutes passed.
He spoke in a stunned voice.
“Ah, Arthur de Press applicant. 111…"
“Huff… huff…”
“Ugh…”
The applicants rose, their arms trembling violently.
One applicant denied it.
“111?! That's impossible!”
He looked utterly disbelieving.
Arthur was famous as a coward.
And with that scrawny body, 111 push-ups? It didn't make sense.
But the applicant next to Arthur shook his head.
“N-no, it really seemed like around 111. I could only manage 30 before I tapped out. So I counted once, and it was at least over 90.”
“…!”
Everyone turned to Arthur with shocked expressions.
Shrugging his shoulders, Arthur thought,
'This is how people will take the change.'
Acaus's son Arthur had been a coward, but like his father, he was an incredible genius.
Next came the running.
– I can't believe it, Arthur finished the 3km run in 11 minutes?
Then the pull-up bar.
– Wh-what?! 50 pull-ups?!
The exclamations kept coming.
Unbelievable.
That coward Arthur?
The stories kept circulating.
But Arthur was holding back his strength in his own way.
Arthur drew back the bowstring fully.
The arrow flew toward the target and embedded itself.
Thwuck!
Dead center on the red bullseye.
Ten points.
“Too close.”
Arthur took a few more steps back, as if bored and uninterested.
He drew the bowstring again.
At least 60 meters away.
Swoooong!
Thwuck!
Perfectly on the ten-point mark!
“Whoa…”
Gasps of admiration rose from all around.
Arthur paid it no mind.
Suddenly, the territory soldiers placed their fisted hands over their left chests.
“Sir!”
“Sir!”
Salutes broke out everywhere.
The applicants awkwardly shouted “Sir!” in response.
Arthur took the salute pose too, as if he had no choice.
Striding through them in plate armor with his helmet tucked under his arm was Colos.
Current Captain of the First Knight Order.
The real power behind Brat Territory.
And to Arthur…
'Wait. I'll chew you up and spit you out.'
Hunt-worthy prey.
The object of his vengeance.
To Arthur, Colos was no different from an arch-enemy.
He had a son in the territory army named Colton.
That son was on track to become the Captain of Brat Territory's First Knight Order.
And that Colton was the one who had set fire to Arthur's house, killing his mother, the servants, and the maids.
'Colton, who was always told he was the best, lost to me in a duel. And that evening, he slipped out of the territory army barracks.'
Sure enough, the son of Captain Colos!
He'd heard the news.
Then Arthur, at eighteen, joined the territory army with dreams of becoming like his father.
And he learned.
That when he picked up a spear, he became a genius of combat.
He was still known as a coward, but Arthur improved by leaps and bounds and challenged Colton to a duel.
And astonishingly, Colton's complete defeat.
That very evening, Colton set fire to Arthur's home.
'Crazy bastard, yeah, a total lunatic. Killing my mother, maids, and servants over a mere defeat.'
Even thinking back now, it was absurd and rage-inducing.
A maid had spotted Colton near the burning house.
Days later, she was found hanged.
People said it was guilt from surviving alone, and everyone believed it.
'Colton’s father, Colos, who manipulated everything—you'll crumble by my hand too.'
And Colos was the one orchestrating it all.
Arthur had shouted it.
That Colton killed everyone.
That he set the house ablaze.
But Colos steamrolled him.
'Poor young Arthur must have lost his mind after losing his parents. Arthur, Colton was sleeping in the barracks that night. Plenty of witnesses.'
Fabricated witnesses.
'Calm down. If even you collapse, what becomes of the Press family?'
Posing as a warm-hearted knight.
'As expected from Acaus's son, you're an idiot too.'
Whispering his true colors into Arthur's ear.
At that time, Arthur left for the battlefield.
Grinding his teeth, slaying enemies, earning the name Ghost of the Battlefield.
But that revenge went unfinished.
Colton died on the battlefield, and Colos succumbed to illness.
That wouldn't do.
It couldn't end like that.
'This time will be different.'
As Colos brushed past, Arthur glanced up at him, his eyes brimming with killing intent.
Thump thump thump thump!
He wanted to kill him right then.
His heart pounded wildly.
He had to hold back.
Not now.
Couldn't show the killing intent.
Colos, who had been walking, stopped.
“Arthur?”
“Hello, Captain Colos.”
“Applying to the territory army?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
Colos gave a slight nod and walked past.
Then he signaled to a nearby territory soldier.
The soldier hurried over.
“Hold on a moment.”
Colos spoke to the knights walking with him and walked off alone with the soldier.
“I'm worried about Arthur. As you know, he's my old comrade Acaus's son.”
“Ah, of course.”
Colos's true thoughts were different.
'Why the hell is that damn coward here?'
When Acaus was alive, he'd felt crushing inferiority.
And when Acaus died and his son turned out to be a coward, no one was happier than him.
Acaus had outshone him, but his own son could crush that family utterly.
“No need to worry, sir.”
“No need? So he failed, then?”
Colos sighed deeply.
But the response that followed was the opposite.
“No, all his scores are the top among applicants. And…”
It was just as that sentence was about to end.
Clang!
Colos's head snapped around.
There, Arthur had knocked aside a territory soldier's sword in a duel and was aiming his spear at the soldier's throat.
Colos's eyes widened in shock.
'…I-impossible.'
It was absurd.
He turned back to the soldier.
“As you see. Arthur de Press is a genius like his father, Captain Acaus.”
A genius?
Genius…?!
“No way that's…”
Colos's face hardened then relaxed rapidly.
The soldier looked puzzled, but Colos walked past.
'He can't join the territory army. Need an excuse.'
Even with top scores, he could fabricate a pretext.
Since he controlled everything in the territory army.
'To do that, first prove he's dangerous… Ah, that method.'
Colos smirked.
He soon called over one man.
Loyal among loyals.
And the one who hated Acaus and his family more than anyone.
The man nodded.
'What scheme are they plotting?'
Arthur eyed them whispering from the corner of his vision.
The next test was the horse riding exam.
Soon, the man who'd spoken with Colos led a white stallion to Arthur.
“Commence the horse riding test.”
Bros chuckled inwardly at Colos's order.
This horse he'd brought was one no territory soldier had tamed.
Horses had varied temperaments, and this one was notoriously finicky.
Plus, it kicked out often, injuring more than a few soldiers.
Bros recalled Colos's command.
'Arthur can't become a territory soldier. He falls off the horse, gets injured, and we deem him a liability in combat—fail him.'
Why Colos hated Acaus.
And one other secret Bros knew.
They were all in on it.
Arthur could tell at a glance the horse was in poor condition.
'Such a petty trick.'
Childish.
That's exactly what it felt like.
Then Arthur remembered the Cash Shop.
'Conversation with Animals…'
It was there.
◈ Communicate telepathically with animals
The horse eyed Arthur warily, snorting roughly.
Arthur met its gaze and approached slowly.
According to the description, Conversation with Animals allowed mental communication.
He tried speaking carefully, soothing it as he drew near.
'I won't hurt you. Carry me.'
'Scary, scary. If I carry someone, they'll kill me. Like that time they killed another horse!'
Arthur was puzzled.
Did this horse, Roy, have some trauma?
Entirely possible.
'Don't worry. If you carry me, I swear I won't harm you. Trust me. I won't touch a single hair on you.'
Arthur nodded subtly, out of Bros's sight.
Roy hesitated.
But soon, it began stepping toward Arthur, one hoof at a time.
Just then, other territory soldiers noticed.
“Isn't that the crazy horse Roy?”
“Roy? Why's Roy in the army training exam?”
Bros told the soldiers,
“All our mounted troops are out supporting the subjugation force, right? We're short on horses, no choice.”
“Ah. But even so, Roy…”
“M-more importantly, look over there.”
“Gasp…!”
The soldiers were stunned.
The mad horse Roy was nuzzling Arthur's head, acting affectionate.
Arthur gently stroked its head.
“I-impossible…”
“N-no one's ever ridden that thing?”
But Arthur mounted it skillfully.
He patted its flank softly and said,
“Let's run nice and free. Go!”
Arthur guided Roy slowly around the Broad Training Camp.
'They hit me. Call me a mad horse and beat me.'
'Really? You, so gentle and calm?'
'I'm just scared. Scared of carrying them. Scared of running. I saw it— they kill horses that drop riders by mistake…'
As Arthur suspected, the horse avoided riders due to trauma.
Arthur gently stroked its neck.
'I won't hurt you. Let's run free. Prove you're no mad horse.'
Clop.
Roy's slow steps quickened.
Clop clop!
Clop clop!
Roy broke into a fast gallop.
Arthur atop smiled in satisfaction.
Clop clop clop! Clop clop clop! Clop clop clop!
Roy raced around the training camp in a wide circle at incredible speed!
The soldiers gaped at Arthur riding steadily.
“Whoa!”
“F-fast…!”
Roy was swift.
And Arthur riding it was masterful.
The soldiers marveled endlessly.
Who knew Roy was this fast?
And Arthur rode with perfect stability.