Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Episode 006 (1)
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1.
"...Don’t lag behind. Follow closely."
The next day.
Kuhn had set out early in the morning toward some destination, guided by Lion’s Den instructors.
He had exited Cava, spent one more night in the main castle’s infirmary, and just returned to Lion’s Den.
Thud thud-.
A group of trainees marched in line alongside Kuhn, heading to who-knows-where.
Including the Silver siblings and Taylor Rosetta, there were about twenty of them.
All had passed Lion’s Den’s first trial.
He had unexpectedly spent the full five days planned in the infirmary and Cava, so today’s schedule was to move to the seclusion training grounds with the others.
Dropouts would get one more shot in two months, but for now, these were all the visible passers from Lion’s Den.
Thud, thud─
Was it because the healing elder’s handiwork exceeded expectations?
Fortunately, walking felt perfectly fine.
‘At this rate, even vigorous movements shouldn’t reopen the wounds?’
Impressively practical and swift technique.
To think even he—who had brushed death countless times as a hunting dog—ranked the elder’s skill among the best.
Lost in thought about those deft hands midway, Kuhn glanced back at the kids and muttered to himself.
‘First trial passers: about twenty. Factoring in a few more from the second trial in two months... overall around fifty?’
Nearly a hundred trainees, halved after just the first trial.
‘This many from the opening trial alone...’
Now the infamous graduation rate of Lion’s Den made perfect sense.
And along with it...
‘Why its graduates were all above average.’
Those who endured and passed such trials repeatedly to graduate? Their prowess went without saying.
‘Especially with growth rewards handed out per trial...’
A far cry from Loberian’s Fox Den, which offered nothing but brutality.
Unlike the Fox Den’s desperate, life-or-death grind for raw power, Lion’s Den masterfully wielded both whip and carrot.
‘Fox Den crushes you to the brink. Lion’s Den fuels your drive to grow.’
No need to belabor which system reigned superior.
Bitterly, Kuhn muttered to himself.
‘Fakes will always be fakes—they can’t top the genuine article.’
A self-mocking jab that even pricked at the very origins of the ‘Black Foxes.’
Trailing off, Kuhn abruptly tilted his head at a slant.
Gazing far down the winding mountain path, he continued.
‘That aside... how much farther? To house fifty people, it’s gotta be massive.’
Kuhn’s brow and the bridge of his nose furrowed ever so slightly.
They had left Lion’s Den over thirty minutes ago.
By now, the training grounds should have come into view—but not a glimpse.
‘How deep do they hide the damn thing?’
Muttering impatiently, Kuhn fidgeted with his fingers.
After lying around the infirmary nearly five days straight?
He itched for a good stretch.
But─.
‘...Can’t cut loose mid-march.’
Still, wasting away like this? No thanks.
His sharp expression betrayed the thought as Kuhn sliced his hand like a blade.
Index and middle fingers extended straight—just like before. Sword finger.
As if on cue, memories of Nightmare surged into his mind, one after another.
‘It’s only day two, so nothing earth-shattering yet...’
His mutter rang hollow against eyes serene and sunken deep.
Whoosh....
‘......’
Less recalling swordsmanship, more confronting an endless abyss.
In truth, even before returning to Lion’s Den—parked in the infirmary all day with the book in hand—he had flipped barely ten pages.
Not even his own once-master-level gaze could plumb its depths.
Nightmare was swordsmanship of that caliber.
‘Which is exactly why... master it right, and it won’t just get me through Lion’s Den. It’ll tip the scales against Dun Bringer or Loberian ahead.’
But...
‘A double-edged blade all the same.’
His gaze hardened colder still.
The reason? Simple.
‘Too many swordsmen lost their heads, cocky on half-baked mastery.’
To avoid their fate, he had no choice but to grind relentlessly at comprehending and internalizing Nightmare.
‘One lingering snag: why the hell is swordsmanship this elite stashed in Lion’s Den’s underground Cava with run-of-the-mill manuals...?’
As noted before, Cava’s tomes were mostly mid-tier at best.
Then bam—this outlier vaults leagues beyond.
Hard to chalk up to sloppy transport.
Something didn’t sit right.
‘Flashed the cover at the senior instructor by the entrance, just to check...’
Got nothing but a glance, like ‘This old rag’s in storage too?’
‘No clue about Nightmare.’
Lion’s Den’s senior instructor—an elite Jordic aura practitioner—clueless.
‘So it’s no household name in Jordic circles, at least...’
Pondering cut short as his head swam with clutter. Kuhn shook it off slowly.
“Huuu...”
Just like failing to pin why Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits resonated with this art—no answers here either.
Conclusion as predictable as ever.
With a weary look, Kuhn shook his head once more.
‘Both dead ends anyway...’
Thoughts on Nightmare or Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits ended there.
Confusion shed in an instant, Kuhn flicked his gaze around.
Frowning in bewilderment at his surroundings.
‘More importantly, what’s with this vibe since earlier?’
A peculiar gaze—or gazes, really—trailing his back, shoulders, even face.
‘Hm.’
He hadn’t let on, but they had stuck to him since his Lion’s Den return—unwavering.
‘Eek!’
‘...Oops!’
Kuhn whipped around; a few trainees jolted their heads away.
But only for a moment.
‘...He really came back?’
‘─Body all healed up?’
The stares swung back his way. Kuhn let out a light chuckle.
He had clocked it: no jealousy or envy in those eyes. Pure curiosity, admiration, even reverence.
His duel with the instructor must have left one hell of an impression.
‘Even so...’
A faint smirk tugged at Kuhn’s lips.
‘One spar, and they look at me like that.’
Kids gonna kid?
Eyes too pure for Lion’s Den trainees.
Best part? These vibes wouldn’t bite him in the ass.
He never went hunting for scraps or kicked down weaklings—he just met provocations head-on when they came.
Yet here they were, momentum shifting among the trainees.
‘This mood holds, no one’s picking fights post-seclusion.’
Alas, cruelly...
It wouldn’t take long for that hope to shatter.
2.
"This is the place."
The lead senior instructor halted before a colossal circular structure.
"Starting today, this is where you begin seclusion training."
Diameter stretching hundreds of meters easy.
Not just grand—downright overwhelming. Trainees gawked, jaws slack.
"Whoa, so this is the seclusion training ground."
"N-Never seen one before."
Even Kuhn huffed a smirk at the sheer scale surpassing his guesses.
‘Jordic lives up to the name, huh?’
Stretch the truth a tad, and it rivaled a small fortress. Handing over something this massive for training like it was nothing.
While eyeing the exterior, a few trainees cocked their heads oddly.
"But with those barred windows and beefy iron doors..."
"Doesn’t it look more like a giant prison than a training hall?"
Spot on—a hulking prison facsimile.
Solitary cells stitched together into one behemoth, standing tall.
The twist? Built for training, so cells ran huge and plentiful, unlike standard lockups.
Kuhn zeroed in on that very scale.
‘......’
Never banked on plush digs from the name alone.
Gloomy prison aesthetic? Totally gettable. Seclusion spots always carried that chill.
But─.
‘Way too many rooms.’
Kuhn squinted, sizing it up.
‘One door and bars per cell... around a hundred give or take?’
No filling that unless every last Lion’s Den trainee passed—which wasn’t happening.
First-trial passers topped out at fifty, sixty tops.
Spare capacity for surprises? Sure—but excessive.
‘Unless...?’
Others besides them using it? The notion grazed his mind.
...Murmur murmur.
A few trainees mirrored the thought, warily turning─
"Looks like we’re a tad late."
...A voice cut bluntly through their midst.