Chapter 25: From Now On, It’s Special Training (1)
A little while later, deeper inside the estate.
Hardin and Beryl, along with the others, were walking down the road together.
“Alright, alright, come this way. We’re going straight to your quarters.”
“Yes, yes.”
The faces of the bandits… no, the Maw mercenaries lit up with a strange sense of anticipation.
“If it’s a noble household’s lodging… would it be decent?”
“Even if they’re impoverished nobles, a noble is still a noble.”
Ever since being branded as bandits, they’d spent the past few years living in makeshift shacks up in the mountains.
Still, since they’d come to a noble house, they couldn’t help but expect they might finally get to live like human beings.
“I hope the ceiling is a bit higher.”
“And while we’re at it, it’d be nice if the windows were big…”
With hopeful faces, they continued walking across the domain for some time.
They did spot the shabby houses of the commoners nearby, but after living in the mountains so long, even those looked like palaces or grand mansions.
“Well, honestly, if the houses are at least that decent, it’s not too bad.”
“That one over there doesn’t look bad either, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re right.”
How much farther did they walk like that?
Tap!
Hardin came to a stop, extended his arm, and pointed.
“Alright, here you go. This is your lodging.”
At that moment, everyone’s jaws dropped open.
“…This is… the lodging?”
Where Hardin was pointing stood two houses so decrepit they looked ready to collapse.
The doors were half-destroyed and dangling, the windows were all shattered, and cobwebs draped across everything.
They hadn’t exactly been expecting much, but this was… what to even call it? It wasn’t just rock bottom—it had burrowed straight into the basement.
To make matters worse…
-Squeak! Squeak!
“Is… is that a rat?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Apparently, an entire rat family also called this place home.
Honestly, at this level…
“Our hideout in the mountains was way better than this.”
“Sure, we were captured and dragged here, but isn’t this going too far?”
Everyone was unable to hide their disappointment and quietly grumbled among themselves. Just then, Hardin jerked his chin and spoke.
“Hurry up, unpack your things and come back outside. We’re starting training right away.”
“Training? Right now?”
“What, you want to sit around on the first day?”
“It’s just… usually the first day is for resting and… getting settled…”
Mikkelsen trailed off, glancing around nervously.
“Oh, really? I must not have known that. Then… should I give you some private time to adjust with me?”
Crack! Crackle!
Hardin’s eyes widened as he rotated his wrist, making it pop threateningly.
The mercenaries quickly cleared their throats.
“N-no, sir.”
“Ahem! No time for resting! We’ll get ready right away.”
“Good? Well, if that’s how you feel, can’t be helped.”
Hardin let out a sly grin as he teased them.
“That damned bastard…”
Well, nothing to be done.
It was still better than ending up in prison, after all.
With a deep sigh, the mercenaries stepped into the haunted house… no, their lodging.
---
After finishing the unpacking, in front of the lodging again.
“Alright, gather up, everyone.”
“Ah, yes.”
Beryl’s group assembled in front of the quarters, and Hardin clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke.
“You probably figured it out earlier, but from now on, you’ll be undergoing special training under me to prepare for the territorial war.”
“…”
Did they hear that wrong? Just now… did he say terri—what?
In an instant, the mercenaries’ bodies stiffened.
Beryl, thinking he must have misheard, cautiously asked.
“Excuse me… what did you just say?”
“I said you’ll be doing special training.”
“No, not that—didn’t you just say… terri… torial war?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention that? We’ll be having a territorial war with Calpion.”
At that, the mercenaries’ eyes went vacant as if their souls had fled.
“Whaaaaat?!”
They all screamed almost in unison.
“A month from now, we’ll be fighting a territorial war against Calpion. You lot will be fighting alongside us.”
“Wha—are you serious? Truly?”
“You’re not joking, are you? Have you declared war or something? For what reason?!”
The mercenaries fell into total panic, bombarding Hardin with questions from all sides. He waved his hand dismissively, looking annoyed.
“Look, if I tried to explain everything, we’d be here all day. If you don’t want to die in that war, you’d better train hard.”
“Huuuuuuh…”
What was this nonsense? A territorial war the moment they arrived? How could this… be real?
“Got ourselves caught up with the wrong guy.”
“He’s a damned demon…”
While everyone stood there with their mouths hanging open in a daze, Beryl was the first to recover and ask,
“Then… what exactly is this special training?”
“It’s something. A very special training that’s going to save your lives. So look forward to it.”
If they were preparing for a territorial war, were they going to be taught some secret swordsmanship? Or maybe tactical drills?
‘Whatever it is, there has to be something.’
It sounded absurd, but in a way, they couldn’t help feeling a little hopeful.
This was Hardin—the man who had single-handedly beaten down their entire bandit crew.
And if someone like him was going to teach them.
And it was training specially prepared for a territorial war.
Then it must mean they were about to be put through something extraordinary.
“Enough talk—follow me. After a month of this… you’ll all be new men.”
“Yes, sir!”
Hardin walked straight out of the training yard toward the stables.
Then he took two horses and two carts loaded with supplies and headed right out of the estate.
“Um… where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
They continued walking for dozens more minutes.
In the distance, the foothills behind the castle came into view.
‘That spot looks just right.’
Hardin walked straight into the mountain, into a part of the forest where the trees grew dense.
“Let’s see here… which ones are in good shape…”
Tap, tap!
He placed his palm against the trees rising from the mountainside, rapping them with the back of his hand.
Unable to hold back his curiosity, the youngest, Mikkelsen, finally asked.
“What are you doing…?”
“Just wait.”
Tap, tap!
He kept going, inspecting tree after tree for quite some time.
Thump!
“Perfect.”
Hardin stopped in front of a massive tree that gave off a heavy, solid sound, and the corners of his lips curled into a grin.
Shiiiiing!
Drawing his sword, he squared his stance before the thick, blackish trunk.
Kwa-ji-jik!
Without hesitation, Hardin swung his sword in a wide horizontal arc.
“Uh—uhhh?”
“H-hey, it’s falling! Get out of the way!”
Kuuuuung!
The mercenaries scattered in a panic as the tree crashed down with a tremendous thud.
Hardin walked over to the fallen trunk, smiling in satisfaction.
“Let’s see… about this length…”
Puk! Puk!
Judging something by rough estimation, Hardin swung his sword again, slicing the trunk clean into sections.
Each cut produced logs slightly different in size and weight.
Kicking the largest piece with his foot, he spoke.
“Load this one onto the cart.”
“Ah, yes, understood.”
Beryl stepped forward and heaved the log onto his shoulder.
Huuuuk!
The moment he lifted it, his whole body nearly sank to the ground.
“So… so heavy…”
If he could have used Body Reinforcement, it might have been manageable, but with their mana sealed by the restriction bands, he felt the full weight pressing down on him.
It was like carrying a massive block of iron.
Just holding it made his legs tremble uncontrollably.
“Alright, hurry up and load everything.”
“Yes, sir!”
Hardin kept chopping logs apart while the mercenaries stacked them onto the carts one by one.
The youngest, Mikkelsen, looked up as he hauled a log and asked,
“Um… Young Master, what exactly are you going to use all this for?”
“Materials. For the training.”
“Aaaah, I see.”
Materials? What, was he planning to carve them into training dummies or equipment? Or maybe some kind of apparatus?
Well, if they were going to train properly, they’d need decent gear first.
With his face full of cautious expectation, Mikkelsen lifted the last log onto the cart.
“Alright, that should be enough. Let’s head back.”
“Yes!”
Fine—let’s do this. Training.
Wiping the sweat streaming down their foreheads, the mercenaries followed Hardin back toward the castle.
---
The training yard in front of Daphne’s Knight Order building.
“Haaah! Haaah!”
The knights were in the middle of training, striking straw dummies with wooden swords.
Everyone wore serious expressions, their bodies drenched in sweat.
A disciplined heat radiated from the group.
At their head, Commander Mulgybson shouted,
“Good! As you thrust, draw out your mana! As quickly as possible!”
Just then—
Hiiiiiing!
Two carts rolled into the yard, followed by a large group crowding in behind them.
“Hm?”
Commander Mulgybson stopped his sword mid-swing and stared blankly at the scene.
“Good work, everyone.”
At the front of the group, Hardin appeared, greeting them with his usual shameless smile as he strode toward Mulgybson.
“Young Master? What brings you here? And… all this behind you—what is it?”
Two carts stacked full of logs, along with the mercenaries from earlier.
He had no idea what Hardin intended.
Wearing a faint smile, Hardin replied,
“Commander, we’ll be borrowing the training yard for a while.”
“…Pardon? What do you mean by that?”
Mulgybson’s eyes went round.
“This place is big enough that you don’t use it all, so we’ll take the far side over there. That’s alright, isn’t it?”
“…”
“That’s alright, yes?”
Hardin repeated himself several times. Mulgybson scratched his forehead, looking awkward, then answered hesitantly.
“Young Master… must you really… do this?”
“Why?”
“It’s… a little hard to say, but…”
“It’s fine. Go ahead.”
“It’s just… having mercenaries around may… negatively affect the knights’ morale.”
“Hm? Morale?”
Mulgybson glanced over at the knights, then turned back and spoke again.
“If you bring those men in, won’t the knights think… you don’t trust them, Young Master? It would wound their pride as knights.”
“Ah, is that so? Well, there’s nothing I can do about that.”
Well, it was possible.
Back in the old days, Daphne wouldn’t have cared a bit about a few mercenaries joining in.
But with the house reduced to almost nothing now, the knights might feel the newcomers were a threat to their positions.
‘Well… who cares.’
You couldn’t refuse to bake bread just because you were afraid insects might show up.
At Hardin’s indifferent attitude, Mulgybson’s expression twisted further.
“It’s not simply ‘nothing you can do.’ This could directly impact the trust your men have in you. Perhaps… you should be more cautious…”
Mulgybson continued, speaking in a serious tone, but Hardin merely waved him off.
“Come on, we’ll make sure not to get in the way. This is the only place with enough room.”
“But still…”
“It’s fine. So I’ll take that as permission? I’ll buy you a drink next time.”
“Young Master? Wa—wait a moment—”
These things were best decided with momentum. Just push straight through.
Hardin turned and called out behind him.
“Alright, everyone, unload the logs.”
“Yes!”
The mercenaries began dragging the logs down from the carts.
Their movements were surprisingly well coordinated.
“What the hell are they doing?”
“Why are they unloading logs?”
The house knights who had been training were staring with bewildered faces.
Watching this unfold, the training instructor, Manton, turned to Mulgybson and asked,
“Commander, what is all this? Who are those men?”
“Ah, well, you see…”
How was he even supposed to explain this?
As Commander Mulgybson rubbed his brow in frustration, Hardin suddenly cut in.
“Oh, they’re mercenaries I brought. We’ll be relying on this place for a while. Thanks in advance.”
“Mercenaries? What are mercenaries doing here?”
“Uuuuuh…”
Manton’s eyes went round as he asked again, and Mulgybson could only groan, unable to answer properly.
“At any rate, thank you for ‘generously’ allowing this, Commander. Haha!”
“M-me? Generously?”
“Alright then, I’ll be going!”
“Young Master? Young Master?!”
Hardin dipped his head and turned away.
There was no point in standing here arguing—nothing good would come of it.
When he glanced back toward Manton—
“Grrrrrr…”
He was grinding his teeth hard enough to make noise, glaring as if he’d kill him.
That bastard’s expression was downright murderous.
And it wasn’t just him.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“How can this be allowed? Bringing those kinds of people in here over us?”
The other knights joined in, their faces brimming with hostility.
If this were back in the days when he’d been Varlach, he’d have rounded them all up and beaten the arrogance out of them.
‘Endure it. Just endure it.’
With a long sigh, he shook his head.
Because now, he wasn’t the Sword Saint Varlach—he was Hardin Daphne.
The very same Hardin Daphne who used to swagger around, lost his mana, squandered the family’s money, and behaved like a total scoundrel.
Even if he had defeated Donfel, to those men, their impression of him likely hadn’t improved much.
And now he’d even brought in mercenaries—of course they’d look at him with contempt.
But there was no helping it.
‘If I start worrying about every little thing like that, it’ll never end.’
The territorial war was right around the corner. How could he possibly cater to everyone’s feelings and take care of everything one by one?
It wasn’t in his nature, and trying to do so would only ruin everything.
The only option was to push ahead and prove himself through results.
If it were up to him, he’d have rounded up those knights and worked them to the bone, too.
‘But Mulgybson is still the commander of the knight order.’
He couldn’t just barge in and snatch the position from the old knight who had protected the house for decades.
And even if he did, there was no guarantee those men would follow him.
In the end, only one answer remained.
‘…I’ll focus on the mercenaries for now.’
Hardin quickly turned on his heel and slipped away to the far side of the training yard.
There, Beryl was waiting and immediately asked a question.
“What were you discussing just now?”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. You unloaded the logs?”
“Yes, as you can see.”
Following Beryl’s gaze, Hardin turned his head and saw the logs laid out neatly along one side of the yard.
He nodded in satisfaction.
“Alright. Each of you pick one up.”
“…Pick it up? What do you mean by that…?”
“What do you think I mean? Just pick it up.”
“But we only just unloaded them from the carts. Do we need to load them again…?”
“Hey, did I say anything about loading them onto the carts?”
“…?”
What was he talking about now?
Seeing Beryl’s bewildered expression, Hardin shrugged and scanned over the logs.
“Let’s see here.”
He walked over to the biggest log of them all, stretched out both arms…
“Grrrrrr!”
Despite his whole body trembling, he clenched his teeth and managed to hoist the log up onto his shoulder.
Catching his breath for a moment, Hardin spoke.
“Stand like this. Holding it.”
“…Pardon?”
What? Why…?
No way—surely not.
“What are you all doing? Hurry up and get started.”
As Hardin urged them on, Mikkelsen hesitantly raised a hand.
“Um… Young Master, why exactly… are we holding these?”
“Why? To train, of course.”
“To train?”
“Yes. I told you earlier, we’d be using these for training.”
“But… earlier you said they were training materials…”
“That’s right. Training materials.”
Still balancing the massive log on his shoulder, Hardin twisted his torso from side to side.
“Eeeh?”
Mikkelsen glanced between the straw dummies on the far side of the yard and Hardin.
“Weren’t you going to build something? Like dummies or training equipment…?”
“Have you got time to waste? Obviously, this is the training equipment.”
“…What?”
What the hell was he talking about?
He was going to train them… using this?