Chapter 26: From Now On, It’s Special Training (2)
“Training? We’re supposed to train with this?”
Mikkelsen and the mercenaries hesitated, staring blankly at the logs scattered on the ground.
At that moment, Hardin furrowed his brow and spoke.
“Stop whining and pick them up. Planning to stay here all night?”
“Ah, understood.”
Only then did the mercenaries, their faces full of confusion, each lift a log.
“Urgh!”
“Hrgh!”
Then, just as Hardin had shown them, they set the logs on their backs and held them firmly with both arms.
What the hell, how heavy is this thing?
My legs are shaking.
He’s not serious, right? This is a joke, isn’t it?
No way, surely he has something else in mind. What kind of training could this be...
Everyone felt a surge of unease and worry at the same time.
Then, Hardin took a deep breath and spoke.
“Watch me closely and do exactly as I do.”
……
Everyone fell silent, blankly watching him.
“Hrrrgh!”
Suddenly, Hardin began sprinting out of the training ground.
What’s he doing, all of a sudden?
The mercenaries, bewildered, followed him with their eyes.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Perhaps because of the log’s weight, heavy sounds rang out every time he set foot down.
After running all the way near the stone wall,
“Hup!”
Kwaaaang!
He rammed the log violently into the stone wall.
As Hardin retrieved the log and stepped back, dust billowed up and fragments of stone tumbled down.
What… is he doing?
While everyone looked thoroughly perplexed, Hardin propped the log beside him, tapped the wall with his palm, and spoke.
“You lot are going to keep repeating this from morning till night.”
“…What?”
Did I mishear that?
Beryl doubted his own ears and asked again.
“I just showed you. You hold the log and smash it against the wall. That’s the training.”
“…That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Why, is it not enough for you?”
That’s training? Just… running with a log?
Beryl slowly turned his head to the side.
All the mercenaries’ gazes shifted to the opposite end of the training ground.
“Haaah! Haaah!”
“This time, it’s the Manjo Third Style! Faster! Pay attention to where your feet land!”
Under Mulgybson’s commands, the knights were fiercely striking the straw dummies.
Each movement precise and orderly.
Whenever they swung their swords, their hair fluttered—a sight that, somehow, looked quite impressive.
Beryl pointed at them with his finger and asked.
“Isn’t that what training is supposed to look like?”
Learning swordsmanship, sparring, practicing tactics… Normally, that’s what you call training.
“Exactly. You said you were preparing for a territorial war, so why are we doing this…”
Even Mikkelsen pouted his lips and added a word.
“Hmmm…”
Hardin let out a long snort through his nose and lifted the log in both hands.
Then, his eyes glowed with a cold blue light.
Kwaaaang!
As he brought it crashing down, the ground quaked and a cloud of dust rose.
“So, you don’t want to do it?”
With a chilling smile, Hardin glared at everyone.
It was the face of a predator.
I felt it instinctively.
If I said another word here, I’d be dead.
“…N-no, sir.”
“We’ll do the training! Seems perfectly fine, haha!”
“Good.”
“Then hurry up and start. Before I break your arms.”
Thunk!
Hardin hoisted the log back onto his shoulders and grinned.
It’s just… a form of physical training, right?
He must be planning to make us do this only for a little while.
The faces of the Maw mercenaries twisted in bewilderment.
---
Under the blazing sun, shimmering heat waves rose over the peaceful(?) Daphne training ground.
“Aaaaaargh!”
“Here I gooooo!”
The Maw mercenaries, lined up in a row, charged toward the thick stone wall of the training ground.
No, to be precise, it was closer to a brisk walk than a run.
Because of the logs’ weight, their bodies swayed this way and that, nearly losing balance.
And then…
Thud!
“Aaaagh!”
Some lost their balance or tripped over stones, falling face-first to the ground.
Barely half of them managed to reach the stone wall and stretch out their logs.
Thunk!
It would have been better to smash eggs against the rock instead.
The impact reverberated through every joint in their bodies, making them groan in pain.
Watching from behind, Hardin shook his head and shouted.
“Keep your lower body stable! Your stance is a mess!”
As his scolding rained down, resentment began to show on the mercenaries’ faces.
…Is this really right?
Stable footing or whatever—none of that’s possible!
Their sweat-soaked bodies trembled, and their eyes gradually lost focus.
Just standing here holding one of these logs made it feel like their arms would tear off. On top of that, they had to run and smash them into a wall—how could anyone do this properly?
What are we, battering rams? Are we supposed to be human battering rams or something?
Why the hell do we have to do this?
Then, Hardin strode over, swinging the log through the air and yelling.
“Get up faster! Back to your positions!”
“Hiiik! P-please don’t hit us!”
“We’ll go! We’re going!”
At his almost-threatening roar, they all scrambled to their places, faces pale with dread.
Breath ragged, vision spinning.
What is he thinking?
How is this training?
That bastard—he just wants to torment us, doesn’t he?
After hours of this unending ordeal, their minds were filled only with questions.
At last, unable to endure any longer, the youngest, Mikkelsen, spoke up with tears welling in his eyes.
“Lord Young Master, couldn’t we just… do some normal training?”
“What normal training?”
“We don’t expect to be taught swordsmanship or anything… Just basic physical drills or… anything else. We really feel like we’re going to die. Shouldn’t training have some sort of balance to it?”
At that, the other Maw mercenaries nodded fervently.
Well said, Mikkelsen!
Mikkelsen! You tell him what we’re all thinking!
Smashing logs into a wall like idiots—what’s the point of that?
While everyone was silently cheering Mikkelsen on, Hardin folded his arms and replied.
“If I teach you a little bit of everything, what use are you going to be?”
“…What?”
“I already told you. This is preparation for the territorial war.”
“If this is for the territorial war, then why are we doing this? There are so many other things…”
“If I try to teach you all sorts of things during that time… how exactly are you going to put any of it to use?”
“…What?”
“You think you’re geniuses? You expect to learn swordsmanship and tactics all in that time and actually understand it all?”
“No matter what, it’d be better than just doing this…”
Mikkelsen tried to persuade him somehow, but Hardin simply waved his hand dismissively, as if it was all too bothersome.
“Shut up and just get one thing right. Just one.”
Noooo, but couldn’t that one thing at least be something normal? Why the hell are you doing this to us?
Mikkelsen’s face turned red as he demanded again.
“Then at least let us use mana.”
“Say something that makes sense. If you use mana, how’s that going to be proper training? Would you even be using your muscles then? Seriously, people these days always want the easy way out—there’s the problem.”
Excuse me, you’re people these days too.
“But still…”
Mikkelsen’s face was about to crumple with tears when—
Thud!
Hardin slammed the log down onto the ground again and shouted.
“Alright, again!”
……
Damn iiiiiit…
In the end, everyone had no choice but to lift the logs again, their faces twisted with despair.
---
As the sun began sinking below the horizon.
“Huuuu… Ten minutes rest!”
Thud!
Hardin tossed the log to the ground and barked out.
“Haa… Rest…!”
Everyone set their logs down and collapsed flat on their backs as if struck dead.
“Huff… Huff… Huff…”
“I’m… gonna… die…”
Their legs trembled uncontrollably, the taste of blood rose up their throats, and the world spun around them.
Damn it, what kind of training is this? This is torture!
And we’re supposed to keep doing it?
If it was going to be like this, maybe it really would have been better to just end up in prison.
While everyone was shuddering with regret, a voice called out from the other side of the training ground.
“Today’s training ends here!”
“Thank you for your efforts!”
With Instructor Manton’s announcement, the Daphne knights concluded their swordsmanship drills.
“Anyone up for a drink tonight?”
“Oh! I’m in, I’m in.”
Some headed toward the barracks, while others gathered into groups and strolled toward the manor.
Damn it, I’m jealous.
I want… a drink too.
While the Maw mercenaries watched them with envious faces, a few of the knights met their gaze and openly frowned, muttering among themselves.
“What the hell is that? Looks like some kind of circus. They’re only going to ruin their bodies doing that. Tsk, tsk…”
“I wish they’d stop that pointless nonsense and just get lost.”
“Just like their master, the underlings are worthless. ‘Territorial war’—what a joke.”
Mocking sneers spread across their faces.
Of course…
Damn it… what did we even do wrong?
We don’t want to be doing this either!
Already dying from exhaustion, and now being insulted on top of it, the Maw mercenaries felt tears of frustration welling up inside.
At that moment, all the way at the back of the knights’ formation.
A man with caterpillar-thick eyebrows… Instructor Manton was glaring this way with a murderous expression.
‘Young Master Hardin…’
What exactly are you thinking?
Even though you knew perfectly well we were here, you insisted on bringing mercenaries in?
It’s a disgrace. If that man were in his right mind, he’d never have done it.
I’ll admit that reclaiming his mana and defeating Great Young Master Donfel were remarkable feats.
But…
That man has no aptitude for teaching others.
When I remember all the atrocities Hardin committed in the past, it still makes my skin crawl.
And now that man wants to train a bunch of wandering mercenaries?
There was no way this could ever be proper training.
Even now, all they were doing was running around carrying logs.
What could he possibly hope to accomplish with that kind of training…?
It was nothing but brute labor with no system or method.
If it was going to be like this, it’d be better to leave the training to a dog.
Just then, a knight standing behind Manton tapped him on the shoulder.
“Aren’t you going, Instructor?”
“…Let’s go.”
Manton and the knights disappeared to the far side of the training ground.
And then…
We… it’s not like we want to be doing this.
The Maw mercenaries’ faces twisted with bitter resentment.
Watching it all unfold from the side, Hardin thought…
Those bastards… acting all high and mighty with their dirty looks.
He let out a deep sigh.
Knights of the house, and that’s all they have to say while the lord himself is working.
Back in my day, when my eldest brother decided something, no one even dared to squeak.
Huuuu…
Hardin shook his head, then straightened up and shouted again.
“Everyone, grab your logs!”
“W-we’re doing more now?”
“But all the knights already went inside…”
“I said it was a rest. Once rest is over, you resume training.”
……
In the eyes of the Maw mercenaries, tears of a man’s sorrowful sweat began to well up.
---
Even after that day… the scene at the training ground didn’t change much.
“Uoooooooh!”
“Damn iiiiiit!”
Kwaaang! Kwaaaaang!
With shouts that sounded more like screams, Hardin and the mercenaries continued the torture training… no, the torture that was called training.
Of course…
“What the hell are they doing over there?”
“Heh, that shut-in young master’s always been like that. Maybe smashing down walls is his life’s dream.”
“Or maybe he’s really trying to turn them into human battering rams.”
In a corner, Daphne’s knights swung at straw dummies, breaking into open snickers as they watched.
And it wasn’t only the knights who looked on that way.
“That’s… training, is it?”
“Ugh… what could he possibly be thinking…”
The retainers passing by, and even Viscount Cobalt and Commander Mulgybson.
Most of them looked at Hardin and the mercenaries with the same eyes.
‘Hardin… why are you doing this?’
‘Brother… you really haven’t changed at all.’
Disappointment and confusion mixed together on every face.
Claiming to prepare for a territorial war that would probably never even happen, putting the mercenaries through something that didn’t look like any training at all—no one could possibly see it in a good light.
And yet, Hardin’s log training continued.
On cloudy days.
On blazing sunny days.
Even on rainy days.
Hardin and the mercenaries came to the training ground every single day, hefted their logs, and smashed them against the stone walls.
And so, after two hellish weeks passed…
“Prepare yourselves!”
When Hardin shouted—
“Yes!”
The Maw mercenaries once again stood upon the training ground.
Their entire bodies were caked in dirt, their faces now full of a deadly determination.