Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5: The One Born for the Army
"Haa, haa."
A corner of the training ground.
Someone was breathing heavily.
"Heup!"
A huge Asian man lying on a bench held his breath, filled his abdomen with pressure, arched his back, and lifted the barbell. The bar and plates, which looked heavy at a glance, went up into the air.
"One, two, three, four."
While the blond man standing next to him counted to ten, the giant moved the barbell with a very precise range of motion and put it back down.
Jeong-hun, whose face was flushed red whether from excitement or exhaustion, got up from the bench.
"Whew, hits the spot, really hits the spot."
The blond man, Bojan, who was watching from the side, frowned.
"Perverted bastard."
330 Funts, Bojan had told Jeong-hun.
Jeong-hun clicked his tongue.
"What Funts, it's roughly 150 kilograms."
"Kilo... what?"
"Forget it."
What metric system and grams in this era without even the French Revolution? Everything is inconvenient as hell.
Still, assuming roughly, very roughly, that 1 Funt is 450 grams, it fits.
Jeong-hun untied the leather waist belt and wiped the sweat with a towel.
"Working set 150..."
He was somewhat used to 220 Squat and 240 Deadlift now. Since the working set is that much, if he measures 1RM, it will come out higher.
In fact, the iron plates Jeong-hun was assuming to be 20kg couldn't be said to be exactly 20 either. He just asked the blacksmith to make them roughly by feel. He couldn't even measure the weight. Actually, as long as the weights of the plates were the same, it wasn't a big problem.
Amazing. Even though I've been lifting for quite a while, breaking 500 was really hard...
Since meeting a comrade from a physical education college in the army and learning free weights properly, he went to the gym regularly. He had a few years of experience in his own way.
Even for him, starting from the 500 club (total weight of Squat, Bench, Deadlift) was quite hard. Unless one was born with immense strength or was an elite athlete who filled most of their leisure time with exercise, it was a level difficult for an ordinary office worker to reach.
If he focused hard, he could reach it, but there were many things to give up, such as social life. Jeong-hun did deloading immediately after hitting 500. He also took a break for a while due to shoulder impingement syndrome and some problems with his iliopsoas muscle.
But not now.
Jeong-hun stroked his chest with satisfaction. Look at that pump, it's crazy.
There's a reason why roiders give up their testicles.
Jeong-hun opened his mouth to Bojan, who was looking at his behavior with a face like he was about to vomit.
"Why, do you want to do it too?"
"N...No. Not today."
"Okay."
Jeong-hun looked at the bar with regretful eyes. These are things bought with money Ela gave him. He had to cherish them. But it couldn't withstand the weight and bent again. Damn iron smelting technology.
If only he had one steel product neatly made by POSCO or Hyundai Steel, he would have no wish. He could make some weapons too. Then it would be a legendary sword of the century.
Bojan looked at such Jeong-hun with a fed-up face. An amazing guy. It was hard to understand. Where did a guy like this fall from?
But Bojan guaranteed it.
He knows because he watched from the side. This guy, he is a human truly born for war.
Hussar. A word referring to cavalry originating from Hungary. The terms vary by country and era.
Generally, the term Hussar itself referred to light cavalry. However, in the era of Stephen Báthory, a Hungarian prince who was later elected King of Poland, Poland created a separate branch called Heavy Hussar.
It was the beginning of the Polish Winged Hussar (Heavy Cavalry).
Heavy cavalry is expensive. Just as cavalry is much more expensive than infantry, heavy cavalry was also more expensive than light cavalry. It was undoubtedly an extremely specialized elite combat group. It would be most fitting to call them the tanks of the Middle Ages.
Naturally, such an elite combat branch was accompanied by harsh training.
General group tactical training and mock battles were organized by the superiors in the first place. Excluding such large-scale training since it was irrelevant to his will, Jeong-hun usually focused on weapon training, horseback riding training, etc.
Horseback riding training, although he couldn't say he rode well yet, he did his part to some extent. Or maybe his horse, Wariat, who was smart and strong but had a bad temper, finally submitted to Jeong-hun and was matching him saying 'I'll handle it myself!'.
So the biggest remaining obstacle would have been weapon skills.
Swordsmanship of this era is in a transitional situation. As the era of firearms approaches, swordsmanship that dominated the Middle Ages is slowly declining.
Liechtenauer style swordsmanship, that is, swordsmanship using a Longsword, was no longer used well even if the lineage was not cut off.
On the other hand, the knights' armaments changed rapidly. Arming swords and Longswords didn't disappear completely. Straight swords were still used in their own way. But it was true that the trend was slowly moving to the era of the Saber (Szabla, Cavalry Sword).
Jeong-hun saw a Saber for the first time in his life only after coming to this army. Without even receiving proper teaching on how to use it, he started sparring immediately. With a nameless comrade.
So, the probability of getting beaten like a dog at first was significantly high. No, actually, he was beaten like a dog. Enough for those watching him from around to giggle and mock him.
"Useless bastard! The great Hussaria of the Commonwealth doesn't need a fool like you!"
Even if it was a dull practice sword, the shock and pain when hit were considerable. Jeong-hun rolled on the dirt floor and completely lost face.
But Jeong-hun's expression was not filled with pain and shame. No, he was confused. What the hell is this...
"Aren't you getting up quickly!"
Jeong-hun got up again. The bitter taste of dirt felt in his mouth awakened his mind. The pain had already disappeared quickly. Rather, he wanted to feel it one more time.
He fell again. The instructor shouted again this time, and ridicule rose like a wave. The comrade standing in front did not hide his bored look.
"Deflect the sword properly!"
And Jeong-hun was flustered this time too.
What is this?
As soon as he held the sword and sparred with his comrade, Jeong-hun felt strange. Everything... felt slow.
To use a metaphor, he is standing at the home plate. The opponent will throw a fastball with good movement at 160km/h at him. Towards the body at that. Truly a bastard. But that is the essence of combat.
But now, as soon as Jeong-hun recognized that he was in the batter's box, he felt a strange feeling. It seemed like he could see all the seams of the flying ball. It felt like he could see the ball spinning too.
That ball was exactly the opponent's Saber. He saw things that shouldn't be seen because they were too fast.
He saw it slowly approaching his body. At first, he didn't know how to accept this at all. He had to roll on the floor a few more times in confusion.
At first, he saw the blade of the flying Saber, but his body couldn't react that fast. There seemed to be a difference between dynamic visual acuity and reaction speed.
But surprisingly, that reaction speed began to fiercely catch up with dynamic visual acuity.
My God.
He had never experienced anything like this. He didn't have much talent for games that emphasized reaction speed like AOS. Besides, isn't there a gap between such games and actually moving the body?
But now, he possessed reflexes that were definitely close to, almost exceeding, the human limit.
"Haa, haa."
He caught his breath. He needed adaptation. But conversely, Jeong-hun didn't even need adaptation.
Jeong-hun dodged the striking Saber with two steps.
He had attended a Taekwondo dojang when he was young. He didn't learn it seriously. Although he got a black belt, it was when he was too young, and martial arts itself wasn't something to use on a battlefield. But he remembered the footwork.
Originally, if you went to Taekwondo in the past, you only stepped all day long. Although they say steps are the beginning and end of Taekwondo, it was too boring and annoying. That memory, pushed into the dusty back room beyond memory, came like a ray of light and momentarily enabled a light backward step.
The comrade's Saber flailed in the air. He saw him blinking his eyes.
"Come on."
Jeong-hun beckoned. The flustered comrade made a ridiculous expression, corrected his posture again, and aimed the Saber.
Saber. Or Sabre. In the distant future, even in modern times when cavalry disappeared, the saber will survive and become a discipline of fencing.
But right now, it's not such a light attack.
There is a vast difference between sportified weapons and war weapons. The current Saber had a wide blade itself, so it was much heavier and duller.
Therefore, it is easy to react.
Besides, the blade wasn't sharpened.
Jeong-hun dodged the opponent's blow first. And he aimed for the moment when he took one more step forward and stabbed him. Jeong-hun jumped into the gap of the enemy. He snatched the stabbing enemy's saber with his gauntlet and tucked it into his side.
Perplexity, an emotion flashing in the comrade's eyes. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed the arm at the same time, lifted the opponent, and slammed him to the floor.
"Keuh-heuk."
The comrade coughed in the rising dust.
"What is it, Bojan! Did you drink yesterday?"
Jeering sounds were heard from around. The blond comrade who fell on the ground looked at Jeong-hun with a face of hurt pride.
On the other hand, the instructor looked at him with a dumbfounded face.
Taijutsu (Body arts) is common.
There were almost no romantic battles in stories where knights clashed splendidly holding only swords unless they promised each other. The battlefield was dirty. In a melee where the smell of blood and screams went back and forth, close combat where one couldn't even use a sword was rather common.
Nothing was as effective as taijutsu when dealing with heavy infantry wearing dull armor and fallen heavy cavalry. Monarchs of the time also enjoyed primitive forms of wrestling, and sword wrestling (Kampfringen) was a basic refinement for knights.
If that Tatar recruit had been a knight who trained Kampfringen from before, he would have stopped at admiring it as an excellent move. But this is completely the opposite case.
It was shocking that that guy was in a state of knowing nothing.
He was a drifter who couldn't even ride a horse. Although his physique was good, he probably never did swordsmanship properly either. The instructor wondered how the hell that guy came here, but he just accepted it due to the pressure from the superiors to just shut up and accept him.
But the instructor just realized.
That wasn't the result of training. It was purely seeing and reacting. The instructor rather got goosebumps at Jeong-hun's clumsy actions. He already knew well that his congenital strength was great. So if experience continues to pile up...
"Bojan, get up."
"Yes."
What kind of monster will that become?
Bojan got up. The instructor said to him.
"Like him or not, this guy is a member of our Banner. It means he is next to you when we go to battle."
"Yes, so I like that..."
"Shut your mouth."
The instructor said so. His gaze turned from Bojan to Jeong-hun.
"You know how to use a sword quite well, teach this guy after the daily routine. Make him a human being."
Bojan looked at the instructor with an expression that he got into trouble. The instructor ignored his eyes.
"And you."
The instructor approached him.
"Are you used to the Lance and Koncerz?"
"Yes."
"Right, you bastard lived on a horse for a while..."
Unlike the Saber, which is hard to deal with if eyes don't roll quickly and one doesn't adapt to the enemy's intention and speed, the cavalry lance boasting a terrifying length just needed to withstand the weight and shock. Although difficult for ordinary people, it was rather easy for Jeong-hun. The Koncerz, a sword specialized for stabbing on horseback, was the same.
The instructor took something else out of the weapon rack. It was a mace.
"The choice of weapon is your freedom, but assuming hand-to-hand combat, this would fit you best. It doesn't mean to neglect Saber training. Just fight effectively. Because we don't have much time."
Bojan and Jeong-hun had to meet for personal training after the daily routine for a while like that. Jeong-hun wasn't the type to pile things up inside. He asked directly to Bojan, who was openly annoying during the time they were together.
"Do you have a complaint?"
"Yeah."
"Anyway, we have to continue training. Deployment is soon."
"That's not what I mean."
Bojan stopped him. Jeong-hun also crossed his arms thinking this is a good chance. Bojan swallowed his saliva and spoke.
"I don't like the existence of you bastard itself."
"...What?"
Jeong-hun's face twitched.
"If war breaks out, I will stand next to you. And you too."
"Right."
"If you die, the probability that I die also increases. That is our fate."
Cavalry charge is a flow. If the person next to you breaks that flow, it could be even more dangerous than the enemy forces.
"In that sense, you don't suit our cavalry. How about going to another place? Pancerni is also a decent place."
Jeong-hun shrugged his shoulders.
"I was ordered to serve here."
"Damn it, that means I don't like it."
Bojan said so. He couldn't understand at all what kind of halo that commoner nobody had, suddenly popping out and acting arrogantly.
"Why does a bastard as terrible as you become our Ensign?"
Why did their commander appoint Jeong-hun as the Ensign? If the superior commander dies, maybe Jeong-hun could take over the command. The Banner Ensign was traditionally taken by the representative of young recruits. So in their unit overflowing with recruits right now, it means he is the best among the recruits.
"That's because while others were doing maneuver training, you were taking a shit."
Jeong-hun shrugged his head, reminding him of the time when Bojan left the unit for a while and lay in the infirmary due to enteritis symptoms.
Why was he, who couldn't ride a horse properly and couldn't swing a sword properly, called the best among his comrades?
(End of Chapter)
— Translated by Prime Works —