Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 007
Chapter Title: Episode 002 (2)
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A few minutes later.
In Kuhn's hand as he headed to a corner of the training ground was a book he had just received from the instructors.
"Antares Style Aura Breathing Method, Basics."
Three legendary swordsmen said to have opened new horizons in swordsmanship during the mythic era of old.
As the name suggested, the Antares Style Aura Breathing Method was known to have been personally devised by the Giant Slayer Antares himself.
'Even though the mid and advanced sections were lost after over a thousand years, so no one masters it fully...'
Still, the basics were solidly rooted and highly versatile, making it unmatched for beginners, or so they said.
In fact, eight or nine out of ten breathing methods circulating on the market were degraded versions of the Antares method.
Even the basics held considerable value, but as its contents were fragmented and passed down, it devolved into cheap techniques used by mercenaries.
And what Kuhn now held was the original version of that very method.
'...Before it degraded.'
Even as basics, it was leagues beyond the cheap knockoffs mercenaries practiced.
Moreover, it had been refined to suit the Jordic family, with annotations added here and there.
'But—'
Kuhn quietly set down the breathing method book and murmured to himself.
'I won't have any need to learn this.'
It wasn't a bad method by any means, but he already had one he was practicing. There was no need to learn another.
And more than that...
'It's not something you can learn just because you want to.'
The curse of the Dream of the Dead was an inborn affliction.
He turned his head, and several trainees were already closing their eyes, focusing their minds.
Most were from noble or prestigious families.
Having their own breathing methods already, they showed little interest in the one distributed by the instructors.
'In that case...'
There was no particular reason for him to hide that he was practicing a breathing method either.
Glancing at them, Kuhn subtly closed his eyes. Then, he slowly began circulating Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits.
Wuuuuuung—.
.
.
...Kiiiiieeee.
The wails of spirits brushed past his ears.
It had been nearly half a year since he started training in Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits.
Despite consistent practice over that time, the amount of malice within him hadn't diminished much.
In truth, the reduction was less than one percent of the malice filling his body...
'The silver lining is that the rate of depletion is speeding up bit by bit?'
As if to prove it, at this very moment, he could feel the energy of Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits devouring the malice inside him, growing in bulk.
Surprisingly, this phenomenon persisted constantly, even when not actively circulating the aura breathing method.
As if...
'The magic power of Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits itself was proactively seeking out prey with a will of its own.'
Of course, it wasn't as fast as when actively circulating... but given time, eventually the magic power of Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits would overwhelm the malice.
'No rush.'
Murmuring that inwardly, Kuhn slowly distributed the energy of Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits throughout his body.
He let some whirl around his entire frame while redirecting others elsewhere.
Wuuuuuuung—.
The diverted magic power left the mana pathways, flowing toward his bones and muscles.
The areas commonly grouped as sinew and bone.
'Alright then...'
The real work began now. Murmuring that, Kuhn slowly gathered his focus.
Wuuuuung—.
His bones and muscles, exhausted beyond fatigue from the morning's physical training.
The magic power of Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits flowing into those sinews began easing the fatigue and strain from training, wuuuuung—.
Immediately after, the influx split into dozens of strands, scattering toward every corner of his muscles.
—Fwaaaaah!
From dozens to dozens more.
Thin as threads, the magic power blanketed muscles and bones, pulling and binding them one by one.
As if stitching disparate muscles together or wrapping them tight like spiderwebs to compress them!
Confirming this, Kuhn let out a relieved sigh.
'Huu—.'
For immediate muscle strength issues, this had put out the urgent fire, at least.
It was a makeshift solution Kuhn had devised to overcome his frail body.
If his sinews were inherently weak and his accumulated malice and stagnation prevented muscle growth...
'Better to compress the muscles he had, making them denser and stronger.'
This eccentricity, born from that idea, had persisted for over six months now.
Even after considerable time, his body looked largely unchanged outwardly for exactly these reasons.
'A body that barely builds muscle in the first place, and what little forms gets compressed right away...'
No wonder it didn't look bulkier.
A method so simple it bordered on crude.
But without it, keeping up with physical training—let alone surviving in the Lion’s Den—would have been impossible.
He wouldn't have thought of it without hints from Monstrous Strength and Chaotic Spirits' magic and the shamanic arts of the spirits.
Kwaaak—.
Feeling the magic threads bind his muscles and those bound muscles fuse tighter with his bones, Kuhn intoned inwardly.
'More importantly, three months, was it?'
Suddenly, the Senior Instructor's voice echoed in his mind once more: in three months, he'd learn firsthand what hell meant.
'Three months.'
Even at a glance, it sounded ominous.
A Senior Instructor of the Lion’s Den wouldn't say such a thing lightly.
So...
'The key is figuring out what hell awaits in three months—'
Finding the answer wasn't hard. Inevitably so.
For other kids, maybe not.
But he had already undergone similar training once before in the Lion’s Den.
【Loberian’s Fox Den】
'If Loberian truly referenced the Lion’s Den methods for raising his foxes...'
The most likely was poison.
It was well-known that magic power or aura could expel poison from the body.
Beyond that, stimulating trainees' survival instincts could boost aura breathing method proficiency and build poison resistance.
Like controlling meal portions, it achieved two effects at once.
One issue, though.
'The problem is many kids won't endure the poison—'
They'd dilute it for training, but poison was poison.
To stimulate survival instincts, it wouldn't be weak stuff.
'Even survivors might face lifelong aftereffects in bad cases—or death in the worst.'
That was why other famous noble or prestigious families avoided poison in aura training.
'In the Fox Den, plenty of trainees died during this phase—.'
Recalling those memories, a bitter smile tugged at Kuhn's lips... then he frowned, focusing on a small sound from within his body.
'The issue now is whether this body of mine can withstand that poison.'
As he said, despite changes, his body was still far from impressive, even generously.
Improved, yes, but stamina-wise, still bottom-tier among third-group trainees—a pathetically frail frame.
No wonder he doubted surviving poison.
'But—...'
...Captain, after this fight ends—.
...I'm thinking of buying a small house with a yard. And with the money I've saved, find my lost mother and sister—.
...Captain.
...Captain, Captain!
He had something he must do.
Gritting his teeth at the hallucinated voices of comrades brushing his ears.
Krunch... Sharp teeth ground, filling his mouth with the metallic tang of blood—.
'I'll survive, no matter what.'
Several gazes watched Kuhn intently.
'As expected—.'
'So that's how it was!'
The Senior Instructor eyeing him meaningfully and Taylor Rosetta, second son of the Rosetta family, were two of them—.
'That bastard already knew a breathing method?'
...And the leader of the beggar gang under the Bells River Bridge.
Iron Fist Barison and the trainees around him accounted for the rest.
4.
'That bastard already knew a breathing method?'
Barison's cheeks trembled with rage, eyes wide.
In his eyes was Kuhn, ignoring the instructor's book and diving straight into practice.
A sight impossible without prior knowledge of another method.
Clenching his fist until it creaked, Barison muttered.
'Fuck! So that's how it was?'
He'd picked on the scrawny weakling on purpose, only for it to be an aura practitioner.
Barison had a vague idea what aura breathing methods were.
The power letting ordinary folk leap walls or cleave rocks with swords.
Challenging someone with that...
'...Damn it.'
—Krunch.
Now the past fight's outcome made sense.
'Of course.'
No way he'd lose one-sidedly to such a skinny runt otherwise.
Muttering, Barison looked quite changed from half a year ago.
Not just bigger from time, but the forced slyness was long gone.
Arms, thighs, his already fierce face—scars and wounds everywhere, new from fights with other trainees.
After rumors spread of his humiliation by Kuhn, more trainees scorned him.
Not just attitudes; some openly challenged his rank.
'Of course, I beat the crap out of every one who came at me, turning them to pulp... damn bastards.'
Recalling, Barison gnashed his lips, cursing.
Around him sat a cluster of trainees, his gang—his underlings, bluntly.
Through events, some drawn to his fists naturally formed a pack.
One, lips pursed, spoke up.
"Tch, that cowardly bastard."
"...Cowardly bastard?"
Smaller than peers, buck teeth protruding.
The speaker was a trainee more known as 'Rat' than by name.
That sparked it; others chimed in, spitting.
"Yeah. Last time with the bucket and broom, so sneaky..."
"Hiding a breathing method too? Total coward!"
All clamoring dramatically, trying to impress Barison.
"If we fight again, no way he'd win."
"Right! You already beat him once!"
True, Barison had beaten an aura-trained trainee before.
Only once, but a win was a win!
Recalling, he bowed his head, gazing at his book and muttering.
'Antares Style Aura Breathing Method, Basics'
This was what let even scrawny weaklings beat him.
And no way his talent lagged behind that runt's.
'Then...'
His losses were purely due to the breathing method gap. Gripping the book tighter.
Kuuk—.
After staring a while, Barison snapped his head up.
Glared at Kuhn practicing alone afar, eyes burning with vengeance, and intoned.
"With this, I'll—."
But Barison didn't know.
The target nursing revenge wasn't just a trainee, but a soul once the Dun Bringer family's hunting dog.
And his grudge was mere beach sand compared to Kuhn's.
Meanwhile, time in the Lion’s Den flowed on.