Chapter 27: Sweat on the Training Field
In the study, Yero stood beside Scholar Hyde, listening to him describe the current batch of trainees.
"Yero, you've been with everyone for almost a month now. Who do you think will take the top three spots in next month's evaluation?" Scholar Hyde leaned back in his chair and asked.
"I think..." Yero pondered for a moment.
"First, Iona's strength far surpasses the others, she should be the undisputed first."
"Among the other trainees, Solyn and Baren are both strong in secret history study and combat, and they will likely take second and third overall."
"The rest of the trainees each have one outstanding area, but only one. For example, Ray and Karen are strong in combat, but they are far behind in secret history."
"Miss Tia is excellent in secret history study, but she lacks greatly in combat. Komea's secret history is decent, but her edge isn't obvious, and in combat she's only slightly better than Miss Tia."
"Is that so?" Scholar Hyde gave a smile that was hard to read.
"Um... please instruct me, Teacher." Yero bowed and asked.
"It doesn't matter. Others might be mistaken too. After all, that child is too low-key."
Yero didn't know which trainee Scholar Hyde was referring to, so he ran through the names in his mind again and again, searching for possibilities.
Toss? He's also the son of a noble, and the nephew of Viscount Xuefeng. Could he be a dark horse? No, with his flamboyant personality, he would never be low-key.
Valeny? Even less likely, she's Iona's shadow now and hasn't inherited Knight Levin's physique or skills.
Mick? His combat techniques are all unorthodox. Lately the instructor has been forcing corrections, making him train late every day. Could it be him? But his secret history grades are honestly not great, unless he improves elsewhere to get bonus points.
Miss Tia is very knowledgeable and smart, but she's been frail since childhood and Yero had never seen her take up a sword. She probably can't fight at all. After cycling through several thoughts, Yero decided to cross the bespectacled girl off his list.
No one else seemed likely—either too foolish or too mediocre.
That left Mick as the most likely overlooked candidate. He had indeed been catching up vigorously, training eagerly every day, Yero judged inwardly.
...
One week passed. Three days remained until the evaluation.
On the training field, the slanted-eyed youth swung an iron sword with all his strength, sweat beading and dropping like pearls, seeping into the dirt beneath his feet.
After practicing the instructor's sword techniques once again, his movements had become unusually smooth, forming a kind of muscle memory.
'Basic Swordsmanship Lv.3,' that was roughly his current level.
Wiping his sweat with a towel, he went to the well, lifted a bucket of water and poured it over himself, cooling off and letting out a satisfied roar.
"Hey, Mick, training again today?" A tall figure approached. His name was Ray, the tallest among the trainees, about 1.9 meters and over two hundred jin.
"Want to spar with me today?" Ray scratched at the giant hammer he held, visibly eager.
Even with several layers of soft cloth wrapped around it, that hammer delivered internal damage with each blow, so the other trainees avoided sparring with him.
"Breath... okay, but I need a moment to recover." Mick took a deep breath and adjusted his state.
"Alright, I'll wait." Ray nervously scratched his head. The two of them went to a corner of the training ground to sit.
...
On the other side, Baren was sparring with another noble trainee, practicing newly learned sword techniques.
After a few moves, Baren easily defeated his opponent.
"Although Instructor Burke always has a sour face, the swordsmanship he teaches is indeed very practical." He sheathed his sword and struck a rather elegant pose to comment.
Baren's talent was never lacking. Under the rigorous training of recent times, his strength had increased significantly, and even Solyn would occasionally lose to him.
"Looks like you're going to take second place then, Baren." Another noble trainee teased.
"Second..." Baren nodded slightly.
"Being the one closest to Miss Iona's results will probably change her impression of you." Everyone already knew he was pursuing Iona.
"Definitely. You're the rightful heir to the barony. Although Iona was once of illustrious status, now..." The trainee trailed off and shook his head.
There were also tiers within the nobility. The highest status was usually the eldest legitimate son who could inherit the title, followed by the younger sons of great nobles, and then those with noble blood who could not inherit titles.
"Enough about that. I heard Solyn has been practicing a special ability recently. Do you know anything about it?" Baren asked directly.
"I don't know. Ask the commoner students." Nobles and commoner trainees seldom mingled; an invisible barrier remained.
"Solyn's father is a 'Tier-2 Bloodline' warrior. It's probably something his father taught him."
"However, Solyn hasn't formed a 'Tier-1' Aspect yet, so his cultivable abilities are very limited."
"Bloodline Aspect..." Baren thought, then shook his head.
"Aside from the Breathing Technique, I won't practice bloodline abilities. That doesn't match my family's heritage." He intended to become a knight in the future; he could not go astray.
"It's a pity the Castle Aspect's abilities mostly require condensation of a 'Tier-1 Castle' Aspect before they can be learned." Was there no other way? Baren wondered.
He didn't want to be defeated by Solyn. Remember, he's a noble. Losing to a commoner in the assessment would be utterly humiliating, especially for this high-profile evaluation—the result would immediately spread through Scorchstone City's noble circles. That would not only disgrace his family, but if Iona saw it...
Thinking of that made Baren restless.
No, I have to go ask my father for a solution. I'm his heir; if I lose face, he loses face too.
...
After resting, Mick and Ray returned to one side of the training ground and took up their weapons.
"I'm ready, Mick." Ray swung his hammer down, whooshing through the air.
Seeing the massive hammer, Mick quickly leapt aside to create distance and avoid the attack.
"Don't run." Ray followed with another hammer swing, but his footwork wasn't fast, so Mick could always dodge.
But constant avoidance wouldn't win the match. Mick watched Ray's motions closely, trying to find an opening.
When Ray swung the hammer again, Mick suddenly lunged forward, driving his blade straight into Ray's waist. The specially made wooden sword pressed into Ray's training padded armor, making him grunt in pain and crouch while clutching his side, then finally fall back onto the ground.
"It hurts. Again." Ray rubbed his side and climbed back up.
"Heh, alright." Mick smiled. The two showed mutual respect.
Because they were both commoners, starting from low points and training hard, their relationship had gradually grown closer.
They sparred back and forth on the training field until the sun sank and the sky darkened.
...
"That's it for today." Covered in sweat, Mick used water to wash himself and spoke to Ray, who was doing the same beside him.
"Okay."
After saying that, the two walked off the training ground in tacit agreement. They were once again the last to leave today.
Gazing at the dark red clouds on the horizon, Mick felt a swell of emotion.
Perhaps, a life like this wouldn't be so bad.