Chapter 19: Chapter 19

“No need to make such a fuss!”

A blunt rebuke pierced the ears of Shan, who was rejoicing that he was finally able to wield Fighting Spirit.

“As I told you before, when the body repeatedly crosses its limits, Fighting Spirit naturally settles in! Considering how many times you used a medicine that other knight families would hesitate to use even once a month, you’re still late! Even if I had taught a monkey, it would have mastered Fighting Spirit by now!”

As Sir Darkal poured out nags in a sharp tone, Shan put on a sulky expression while submissively nodding his head.

He was not particularly sharp with money, but he knew how expensive the medicine he had been drinking and soaking in had been.

“In any case, the training using the tempering elixir ends with this!”

“……Really?”

“Yeah! Didn’t a brat like you feel it too? That the growth of your physical capabilities stopped a little while ago!”

Just as he said, Shan’s body had barely grown over the past few weeks despite the terrible training.

It was as if his body was saying that the allowed strength, durability, and stamina ended right here.

That was the reason why the training over the past few weeks had been especially grueling.

With even the reward of growth disappearing, it truly felt like meaningless self-abuse.

If he had to do that for a few more years, no, even a few more months, it was clear he would have truly gone mad.

Or he would have been unable to endure it and fled in the dead of night.

“So from now on, just maintain yourself moderately so your body doesn’t rust! However, a human body always has the bad habit of trying to weaken, so if you play around…”

“Yahoo!”

He was so overjoyed that Shan ended up cutting off Sir Darkal’s nagging and letting out a cheer.

To think that hellish training was finally over!

“Be quiet! Don’t get carried away, you foolish brat!”

The old knight, who was bellowing at the top of his lungs, began to cough.

It was because the winter air, gradually turning cold, pierced his old lungs.

After catching his breath for a long while, he spoke in a somewhat weary voice.

“Anyway, you worked hard all this time, and today is a day off, so don’t waste my time and scram!”

His tone, still exceedingly gruff, had not changed at all from half a year ago.

Shan immediately nodded and vanished away without even tidying up the cut-up scarecrows.

It was to brag to Roden and the other people that he was now able to handle Fighting Spirit.

A garden courtyard where only silence flowed.

Sir Darkal reached out his wrinkled hand and stroked the cut cross-section of the scarecrow.

“Ha.”

Briefly bursting into a low chuckle, the old knight could not hold back the laughter erupting from deep within his body and giggled.

Even while unable to suppress the cough that burst out once again, he continued to laugh.

“He really succeeded, he succeeded! What a crazy bastard…!”

At first, it was simply to break his spirit.

After all, were not peerless geniuses and teenage boys both beings with boundlessly inflated self-awareness?

Since a guy who combined the two was an obvious case, he deliberately demanded unreasonable conditions during training to firmly establish a hierarchy.

Unlike ordinary knight aspirants, his combat ability already surpassed Darkal himself, so if he was not careful, he would lose his authority.

The exceedingly harsh training of a knight could never be accomplished unless the master forcefully pushed for it.

However, Shan succeeded from the very first day in using his body to its limit and exhausting the muscles of his entire body.

He had accomplished on his own something that ordinary people failed at because they could not overcome the pain, even if threatened at swordpoint.

The second thing that surprised Sir Darkal was three days later, when Shan began physical training again and his body was already completely recovered.

Originally, whether through a healing miracle or recovery via a tempering elixir, a human body was not strong enough to return completely to its original state in just three days.

To say nothing of mental issues.

However, Shan not only perfectly recovered his body in three days, but also succeeded in overworking his body to its limit during the second training session, which was originally intended as a light warm-up.

Truly an abnormal level of physical control, patience, and even recovery power.

Confirming all these factors, Sir Darkal immediately revised all the training plans and wrote a new one.

It was the beginning of a gruesome schedule where he overworked his body to the point of needing a tempering elixir every three days.

He prevented those who had experienced knight training in the past from telling Shan what normal training was like.

Because if he learned that harsh training to the point where body muscles melted was actually done only about once a month, he would feel that his current situation was unfair.

After that, it was truly a succession of agonizing, nerve-wracking times.

Watching Shan grow more exhausted day by day, Sir Darkal likewise did not show it, but he was exceedingly anxious.

Considering that five or six out of ten people failed to endure even a schedule of pushing the body to its limit once a month and gave up training, the possibility of failure was extremely high.

Was this what it felt like to continuously sharpen an infinitely thin and sharp razor?

Please do not break, sharpen just a little bit more…

How many times had he repeated that in his mind while pushing that small body to its limit?

In the process, Sir Darkal was tempted time and again to loosen the schedule just a little.

Being human himself, he could not help but feel his heart soften at the sight of the disciple he had personally taught for half a year suffering.

Had a little more time passed, he probably would have succumbed.

But today, he finally succeeded in seeing the fruits of his labor.

After enduring and enduring, the gamble had paid off!

‘Fighting Spirit is heavily influenced by the mind, that is, the heart…’

Over many years of teaching knight aspirants, Sir Darkal had learned one surprising secret.

That those who awakened Fighting Spirit faster and in harsher environments possessed stronger Fighting Spirit on average.

Because the strength of Fighting Spirit itself was difficult to measure and had severe individual variation, it was a secret teaching known to very few.

Perhaps only a few venerable knight families knew this fact.

In truth, how strong one’s Fighting Spirit was, was not that crucial in physical combat.

Because drawing that power into the material world required physical stamina based on the body.

It would be troublesome if one’s Fighting Spirit were too weak, but conversely, even if a knight possessed Fighting Spirit strong enough to sever a mountain with a single blow, trying to exert that power would cause him to collapse from exhaustion before accomplishing it.

However, in the domain of mind and mystery, spiritual greatness demonstrated immense efficacy.

Because a knight with strong Fighting Spirit possessed strong resistance against all sorts of magical abilities.

It was the reason why knights could subjugate monsters like basilisks, which turned living creatures into stone just by looking at them.

‘This is a Fighting Spirit forged after a forced march of melting down the body once every three days for half a year. Unless his spiritual talent is exceptionally awful, he will stand in the front rank among all the knights who have ever existed in history.’

The Altoan boy he had raised was truly a combat weapon that seemed to have been created by the Goddess herself.

Agility that seemed to challenge human limits, a control ability more precise than even the most delicate machinery, a sense that seemed to read the thoughts of an opponent he faced, and combat intelligence.

What that monster needed (who could beat anyone as long as his body properly matured) was the capability to deal with non-physical attacks.

A soul so mighty that no wicked magic, curse, or evil power of monsters could pierce it…

Overcoming even trickery that sharp eyes and a nimble body could not dodge… was that not truly the ultimate knight!

Like an artist who had created a satisfying sculpture, Sir Darkal wore a full smile across his wrinkled face.

*

When Shan announced that he was able to handle Fighting Spirit, the Weavers mansion was thrown into utter turmoil.

Roden, who was the first to run over, picked Shan straight up and spun him around.

“You finally succeeded! Congratulations!”

Shan complained that he was dizzy, yet he could not suppress a full smile spreading around his mouth.

In truth, obtaining Fighting Spirit was great, but what made him happiest was that he could now stop that dreadful training.

Afterward, Shan boasted about his Fighting Spirit to a few servants he was close with, such as the cook and the maid who cleaned his room, and then went to see his sponsor, Callion Weavers, to inform him of this fact.

“Half a year, is it? That is certainly fast.”

The old merchant merely nodded as he answered like that, but he could not stop the corners of his mouth from curving upward.

For he, too, as a sponsor, had received some hint from Sir Darkal regarding the background of the harsh training.

The day after stirring up the mansion like that, Shan faced Sir Darkal in the garden courtyard as always.

Today’s combat lesson topic was precisely about the Fighting Spirit he had longed for so much.

“What do you think Fighting Spirit is?”

“The ability to slash harder, thrust harder, and block well.”

“You shamelessly speak foolish nonsense while knowing nothing. Very good! Very good!”

Contrary to his gruff sarcasm, a satisfying smile seeped across Sir Darkal’s face.

He looked excited, as if he had downed a glass of liquor or something.

“As for what Fighting Spirit is, simply put, it is the power to consume the stamina of mind and body to create the desired result! You don’t need to know anything beyond that, and in fact, it’s better if you don’t! Because there’s no need for you to set limits on yourself!”

Along with his shout, Sir Darkal plunged the wooden stick he was holding into the ground.

A wooden branch that should have originally shattered against the hardness of the frozen ground sank deep into it as if it were mud.

“Try doing the same! Thrust with the resolve that you will definitely pierce through somehow, even if the floor were made of steel!”

Letting the shouting voice pass in one ear and out the other, Shan quietly looked back and forth between his own wooden stick and the ground.

I will definitely pierce through, even if the ground is made of iron rather than dirt…

Repeating that to himself as he plunged the stick into the ground with all his strength, the stick dug smoothly into it, just like what Sir Darkal had shown moments ago.

Along with that came a dizzying sense of exhaustion.

Shan instantly lost his strength as if he had been running for several hours and ended up falling to his knees on the spot.

The rapid consumption of physical stamina automatically brought on dry heaving.

It was a feeling he had experienced to some extent when he first manifested Fighting Spirit, but now it was several times more intense.

“Ugh…”

“How is it, hard?”

The old knight cackled, as if he had expected this.

“The training you must do from now on is controlling Fighting Spirit. You can consider it a training to refine the mind! Adjusting whether or not to imbue Fighting Spirit when performing an action, and if so, how much, is what makes a complete knight!”

Fighting Spirit was originally the power of the mind, so the more earnestly one desired something, the stronger the Fighting Spirit one could unleash.

However, great power comes with great stamina consumption.

Imbuing a Fighting Spirit strong enough to cut through iron when merely slicing straw would only waste most of the power, so a knight always had to maintain composure of mind to consume only as much Fighting Spirit as necessary.

‘Composure…?’

The sight of Sir Darkal always bellowing loudly seemed far removed from composure.

While Shan was inwardly puzzled, the old knight continued his explanation in his characteristic raspy voice, mixing in profanity.

“Especially when you get excited during battle, it’s easy to overuse Fighting Spirit unnecessarily. If you do that, no matter how good your skills are, you’ll quickly tire out and collapse! Such an idiot is worse than a skilled mercenary!”

Hearing those words, Shan recalled the war he had seen half a year ago.

The knight who swung his sword and sliced through the surrounding enemies in an instant, only to soon collapse from exhaustion and be dragged away in a net…

To make sure he did not end up in that state, he certainly needed to train hard in allocating Fighting Spirit.

Shan thoroughly engraved in his mind the training method Sir Darkal spoke of.

Fortunately, the Fighting Spirit training was comfortable to the point of being trifling compared to the physical training he had undergone previously.

For he simply had to slice at surrounding wooden sticks, pieces of leather, bundles of cloth and straw, and the like with a wooden stick.

The important thing was that whatever he cut, he had to cut through exactly half of it.

This was to engrave into his body how much effect resulted when imbuing a certain amount of Fighting Spirit.

However, the one thing he did not understand during the training process was the concept of ‘consumption of willpower’.

They clearly said mental energy was slower to recover than physical stamina, but for some reason, though he often ran out of physical stamina during repeated training, he never felt mentally exhausted while his body was fine.

When Shan brought this up, Sir Darkal shouted at him to pay no mind to such things and just train hard.

Fortunately, the precision Shan was born with seemed to work not only in the physical realm but also in the mental realm.

For the first few days, he floundered at the utterly unfamiliar sensation, but by the time three days had passed, he became able to gauge the consumption of stamina to some extent, and from the first week onward, he was able to delicately adjust Fighting Spirit with wooden sticks, iron bars, blunted swords, and edged swords.

After that, he learned various application methods.

Techniques such as dealing an impact to push the opponent back as if striking with a hammer rather than cutting and piercing with thrusts and slashes, or kicking off the ground to add repulsive force for a momentary charge or leap.

Training to sense the power of Fighting Spirit loaded in an opponent’s attack to block or counter it was an added bonus as well.

By the time a month had passed and all of that was completed, Sir Darkal finally announced the end of the knight lessons.

“You are still an utterly foolish brat with much to learn, but at least right now, it seems there is nothing more I need to teach you! Here, take this!”

The writing written on high-quality paper was a scribbled cursive, but thanks to the theoretical education he had received in the meantime, he was able to read it reasonably well.

That the educator, Darkal of House Cordo, guarantees that the owner of this document, the Altoan Shan, clearly possesses martial power and culture fit for a knight…

Thanks to the education over the past half year, he was able to understand what this paper meant.

If Shan were to fall into a terrible villain, the mere existence of this paper would surely ruin Sir Darkal’s honor.

Although he had barely built any personal affection after suffering insults and overworking his body the entire time, Shan found it difficult for no reason to look at the bald old man in front of him and bowed his head.

“……Thank you, Master.”

“You’re not a little girl, so don’t make that whimpering voice! It’s disgusting!”

Truly, he was a man consistent to the end.

*

A few days after Sir Darkal left, Shan received a dinner invitation from Callion.

It was to discuss what to do going forward.

In a seat where even the servants were dismissed and only the three of them sat together, Callion spoke in a low voice.

“I have learned about your enemy this time.”

As Shan felt every time, he was someone who truly looked like a big shot when no superiors were beside him.

From that low, thick voice to his solemn expression, Shan felt he knew who Roden had taken after to put on a good knightly front.

“My enemy?”

“Yes. You said it was the Steel Lion Corps that destroyed your village, right?”

According to the testimony of Kob, the Altoan mercenary who had participated in the troll hunt together in the past, that was so.

Callion, who had heard this through Roden, was able to find out who their recent employer was through his information network as a merchant.

“According to news delivered a short while ago, their current employer is said to be Count Balik.”

At Callion’s answer, Roden beside him asked with a surprised expression.

“Wait a moment, surely that person…?”

“Yes. The territory that triggered the civil war in Libert belongs to his faction.”

The territory near Willow Village where Shan lived was under the rule of Baron Mahsel, and Baron Mahsel was a vassal of Count Balik.

In other words, Count Balik staged a self-engineered farce by unleashing mercenaries upon the region he ruled to commit slaughter.

Solely to gain the justification of having been attacked first.

“Blinded by power to slaughter the domain’s people he ought to protect… Anyway, this is why nobles…”

Roden let out a sigh at the truly horrific truth.

Callion glanced sideways at his son and then turned his gaze to Shan.

“If you wish to avenge your enemy, I would like to recommend joining as a mercenary in Duke of Morayen’s faction. After all, for a warrior to make a name for himself in a short time, there is no place quite like a battlefield.”

If he became a mercenary and jumped into the battlefield, building fame would surely be easier than flipping a hand over.

For Sir Darkal had declared that with Shan as he was now, even if several ordinary knights attacked him, he could kill them in an instant.

In Libert, no matter how strong an Altoan was, they would not offer him knighthood, but if he returned to Pendia after making brilliant displays there, someone would surely take interest in a boy mercenary carrying the severed heads of knights hanging in clusters.

However, Shan shook his head and declined Callion’s proposal.

“Hmm, but to be honest, I don’t really think of him as an enemy. Besides, I’ve already taken enough revenge.”

Although those mercenaries killed Priest Ador and probably killed Celina as well, killing them had tied up the knot of fate to some extent; he did not feel inclined to jump into a battlefield just to avenge himself on the person who commanded them from above.

It was not that he had any aversion to participating in a fight and killing enemies, but Shan had a different plan.

“Rather than that, I plan to explore the Demonic Realm.”

“……Isn’t that too dangerous?”

“A battlefield is the same. After all, if you want to build fame, you have to take risks, don’t you?”

Situated to the east of the Pendia Kingdom, the Demonic Realm was a dangerous land and at the same time a land of opportunity.

Not only was hunting various powerful monsters and retrieving their byproducts enough to make a fortune and spread one’s fame, but if one happened to salvage relics of the ancient Altoan Empire, their value would be difficult to even estimate.

Compared to a war among humans, it was a choice where one could expect higher danger but far superior rewards.

Shan pointed at Roden beside him and added.

“Above all, Roden can’t go with me to a battlefield.”

“……Me?”

Roden, who had been quietly chewing his food while listening to their conversation, blinked his eyes.

“No, you know I’m studying to inherit my father’s merchant guild, right?”

“Even so, you haven’t let go of your weapon yet. I need Roden. You’re my first squire.”

Shan poked his friend’s thick forearm sitting next to him with his finger.

Over the past half year, while devoting himself to merchant group work, Roden had not neglected training so much that his body’s muscle would fade.

If he had not done so, Shan would not have tried to drag Roden along either.

Because trying to hold onto someone whose passion had left the warrior’s path would only be dangerous.

When Shan returned the words Roden had spoken before, Roden put on a dumbfounded expression and soon shook his head.

“Geez, when you put it like that, I can’t even not follow you…”

The two of them burst into laughter, without either one being first.