Chapter 49
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Surviving is Also a Talent
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Exhausted beyond belief, everyone crawled into their leaf-lined beds like caterpillars and passed out.
Only Yuderg lay there, eyes wide as saucers, staring up at the night sky. He let out a small sigh.
I tossed more wood onto the campfire, stirred the flames, and said,
"Can't sleep?"
"My body's tired, but sleep just won't come. My heart's racing."
"Racing?"
This guy reeks of foolhardiness too.
Fallen from a status where he'd be treated like nobility anywhere on the continent to a beggar's lot, and his heart was racing?
"You've got a house and fortune in the Drauven Empire's capital, right? Doesn't that sting?"
"It all came with my rising fame and reputation as a warrior. Now that it's all gone, this thought hits me."
What thought?
He looked like he was about to spill his guts, so I shot him a questioning glance.
"That it wasn't fortune I built with my hands and strength."
What, like cyber money?
You into coins or something?
"These past few days, chatting with merchants, carpenters, blacksmiths, farmers, hunters, and mercenaries... I've seen how ordinary folk grind just to scrape together a handful of silver coins."
"So you're saying you got lucky?"
"Exactly. My talent got recognized, I got into the Royal Academy, honed my swordsmanship, built up my mana. As a kid, training was so brutal I thought dying might be easier. But those people..."
Yuderg trailed off with a sigh.
"Isn't life itself a war, a hell for them? They work just to eat, but there's so much to watch out for, and without power, they drop dead pointlessly all the time."
"Academy boy speaks well, huh."
Not meant as sarcasm.
Yuderg didn't take it that way either—he smirked and went on.
"Training, I could've refused or quit."
"You had choices and picked that path anyway, so it's just full-belly whining?"
"Yes. Powerless commoners? No choices. They do joyless work to feed their families, to fill their bellies. A single silver coin dropping into their palm—that was their joy."
"So, what's the point?"
Here we go again, blood pressure rising.
"Living in a greenhouse, thinking myself so great..."
Yuderg flushed, unable to finish.
I'd figured Yuderg for a bloodless sword demon or some arrogant noble.
But his thoughtful words and actions lately? He gets people, cares more than I do.
Smart and kind? Kinda grating.
"You're a weird one too. Sleep if you're tired. I'm on watch."
Yuderg gave a sheepish smile and closed his eyes.
Between the three campfires, in grave-like beds arranged in two rows, the guys lay crashed out.
I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed at the sky.
'Can't sleep? Training time.'
Stabbing stars one by one with my eyes.
Seems like random thrusts, but suddenly a constellation forms.
It fades, seeding another star.
Repeat endlessly.
All night piercing stars with my gaze, then I closed my eyes at dawn.
'Sun's up, so the Ruler of Frost must be bedding down too.'
A bit of an odd sync, but the queen and I are connected somehow.
Same bedtime, right?
Doesn't that count as co-sleeping?
Kuhhehe-.
What are you thinking! Feels like fun imagination! Silver Star can't see! So curious!
'Kids, beat it.'
I woke around noon.
Luke's body shakes off fatigue with a quick nap, but after a solid six hours? Felt light enough to float away.
Awake, but the aura felt off—unnatural.
Eyes shut, I waited for my head to clear and sized up the situation.
Ticking my ears: mostly grunts like puppies desperate for a dump, laced with low baritones now and then.
"Spread your legs wider. Toes point forward."
"Straighten that back. Imagine your spine's line hitting the ground perpendicular—like sitting light."
I got the picture.
Still, curiosity won; I cracked one eyelid slow.
Fred and Yuderg were drilling sword stances into the thieves.
No swinging yet—just basics, correcting every detail.
'Security chief and ex-knight instructor with thief pupils...'
One hell of a combo.
Dunno who pitched the training, but it was a solid development.
"Turgen, this isn't sword training. You're just doing a motion."
"Lord Yuderg, that's too fancy-talk. Aigoo, my back~."
Even if born of necessity, the thieves' drive deserved a clap.
'Yeah, survive however you can.'
Off in the distance, mana signatures flickered.
Requiya's barking carried over too.
"Rodrigues, gama issa! Not pulling mana yet. Follow your big bro—, Ferguson, you too gama issa! Hak, ma!"
Requiya was passing mana circulation to the more gifted thieves.
"My nostrils feel hot, weirdly."
"Mana gathers in the heart. Not your nose like Sergei! Think magic lessons make your nose twitch? Breathe harder—drag it in! Into your lungs! Melt it into your blood, send it to the heart!"
How damn talented do you gotta be to pool mana in your nostrils?
Jealous.
I still can't manage it.
"Channel mana to protect your legs while running—beats muscle pain."
"Run faster too?"
"Duh! Burn mana before stamina, no burnout."
"Ah, so that's why instructors never tire?"
"Yup. But this is secret—"
Whisper whisper.
The boss runs without mana.
Wooow. Holy Knight for real.
Something like that.
'Nah. No mana here—just elixir fumes.'
Let the delusion ride.
Illusions are free.
I was up, time to move—but I let 'em train longer.
Blue Eye scan: no threats nearby.
Thieves looked hyped on real martial arts; hated to kill the vibe.
'Stamina beasts learn quick.'
Stamina's king.
Tough poses? Tricky ones? Stamina carries you.
Some thieves had killer body dysync.
Same move, ten times harder for them—but stamina let 'em tweak and fix relentlessly.
'Proud of ya.'
Before I knew it, I was at the group's edge, copying their stances.
'Psh, I know this stuff.'
Fred sauntered by, tapped my calf with his scabbard.
"Lower it more. Dash-ready, sure—but lock it in, and defense lags."
"Uh, yeah..."
"Yeah? I'm the instructor. You're the trainee."
"Yes, instructor."
Ha, basics and he's strutting like a peacock.
Pale beggar Yuderg glanced my way stone-faced, then planted a hand on my waist.
"Tilt like this. Folks with raw power often botch joint use. Not dissing the boss. That was old me—trusted muscle over joints... Anyway, not smart bodywork, boss."
"Yes, yes..."
I'm the boss, but feel like fresh meat.
'Just stand better.'
Stayed put till morning drills wrapped.
That's me.
Strong or old or half-assed knowledge? Never backtalked a trainer.
'Ahem. Humble as hell.'
Ahem! Silver Star's humble too!
Basics done, Fred in seiza eyed Yuderg.
"This vibrant spot makes mana work smooth. Yours recovering fast too."
Pale, blank-faced thief Yuderg nodded and sat beside Fred.
"Not wounds. Mind was the issue."
"How so?"
"Sense of defeat. Nothing scared me in the world. But the world's vast. Big names had the skills to match. Hit a massive wall. Crumpled like a kid in a giant's fist. Wouldn't admit the gap—rage first."
"Mind scar runs deep."
"Still a petty bastard. The healing spark..."
Yuderg's gaze drifted to the thieves rubbing shoulders and legs post-drill.
Aigo~.
Thieves groaning from overworked virgin muscles everywhere.
Fred eyed Yuderg and smirked.
"Took comfort from folks beneath you, eh?"
"Embarrassing, but yes."
From afar, I caught Yuderg's confession and let out a silent sigh.
'Big deal.'
Wrong to snag survival hope that way?
Looks cowardly maybe, but not a crime, right?
Silver Star decrees! Dumb thoughts too! Cowardly too! Keep it inside—no crime!
'Preach!'
Back in my firefighter days, hounded by starlight, I'd sneak cowardly comfort from psychos, cripples, shabby geezers.
At least I'm better off—not rock bottom yet.
'Am I the trash?'
Silver Star trash too!
I know this world's beyond right and wrong, but I know Yuderg's right too.
The guy who feels shame? Deeper, kinder soul.
Reflection short! Shame? Bow head! Bow too low—miss enemy strikes!
'Right. Stay vigilant.'
Yuderg mana-filling fast? No slacking.
Could pull a blade on me anytime.
No Insight Ability, no Luke body—pick my edge? Habit of never relaxing.
Doom of random freeze-death: tense even asleep, alert in daze.
Job demanded it.
And I always schemed solutions.
'Surviving's a talent too, huh...'
Maybe my edge in Earr ain't Luke's iron body or powers—but Kim Jang-gun's habits: constant tension, deep thinking, quick moves.
Self-praise long!
'Eh... maybe not.'
Thieves from mana drills rejoined the group.
Quick chow from yesterday's game and jerky, then up.
"Moving out."
Groooowl~.
Hippo that slept in the bath all night and splashed all morning grumbled like it was a shame.
"Out you come. Your turn to run."
Groooowl!!
Hippo talking back?