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chapter 12
Brotherhood
The first day of training in Viktor’s unit under Meyer ended with just going to the point Rando had mentioned and returning.
When Meyer finally returned after ten hours, there was no one left in the training ground. Everyone had already finished both the basic and tactical training and had dispersed for the day.
Meyer clenched his teeth as he looked at the empty training ground.
“So this is my level, huh.”
It took Viktor exactly one hour to make the round trip to the point Rando had set. But Meyer had taken ten times as long. Moreover, Rando, true to his word, had given no special favors whatsoever.
Yet Meyer wasn’t upset about that.
Rather, he was only filled with anger at his own pathetic state, and it made his eyes sparkle as if studded with starlight.
“Eat well. Then sleep.”
Dragging his unwilling legs, Meyer forced himself back to the annex.
After Meyer disappeared from the training ground, someone else appeared there.
“Did he finish the course?”
Rando murmured quietly as he looked toward the spot where Meyer had been scowling. Meyer had left in the morning, and now the evening sun was already setting.
“Vector.”
“Yes, Captain. I’ll keep an eye from tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Vector bowed to Rando. Being perceptive, he had noticed that Rando, despite pretending otherwise, was quietly concerned about Meyer.
Rando gave Vector a warning.
“No special treatment.”
“Yes.”
Watching Rando walk away, Vector muttered to himself.
“Such an insincere man… well, I can’t say I don’t understand.”
Rando was a knight. He believed that a knight should not get involved in politics, following the chivalric code.
That was why, despite his exceptional ability, he had wandered in minor posts before finally settling in Viktor’s unit.
Still, Vector wished that the superior he had served for so long could become someone greater.
It pained him to see Rando wandering, overlooked, just because of men like them—mere commoners.
“Well, who am I worrying about?”
The more serious situation was Meyer’s, not Rando’s. Vector let out a small sigh.
“Ugh…”
Meyer applied the remaining potion Kyle had given him all over his body. Instantly, a mix of pain like being in scalding water and pleasure like being in an icy bath coursed through him.
“This is disgustingly hard.”
He was too exhausted even to move a finger. He had barely washed, barely eaten, and barely applied the medicine. Once he collapsed, sleep overtook him.
Meyer didn’t resist it. Right now, he had to sleep. Even five more minutes would help him survive tomorrow’s hell.
“Still… I won’t give up.”
Murmuring drowsily, Meyer succumbed to sleep. Shortly after, the door opened, and Hoirun entered, looking at Meyer with a complicated expression.
“Not waking up today either, huh?”
One of the first things a butler was taught was posture. Part of that training was moving without disturbing the master, to avoid waking them up.
Yet Hoirun had never succeeded at it before, because Meyer’s sleep was too light. But today was different; Meyer was so deep in sleep he didn’t even notice Hoirun.
Hoirun stroked his chin as he watched Meyer.
“Hope he doesn’t really end up with a nose pierced over this.”
Hoirun recalled the wager he had with Meyer. Though he dismissed it as improbable, he couldn’t help feeling a small spark of anticipation.
And so, three months passed.
One hundred days.
One hundred cycles of day and night. One hundred days could feel both long and short. It was enough time for a season to pass, enough time for a newborn to start holding its head and exploring the world.
During those hundred days, the person who changed the most was Meyer.
Huff, huff, huff.
Sweat dripped from Meyer’s temples. But unlike the first day, he was no longer running alone.
“Stop!!!”
Huff, huff!
Still at the very rear, Meyer no longer lagged behind. On the hundredth day, he completed the jog without falling behind even once.
In the first month, he couldn’t even be seen until the end of the training day. By the second month, he cut that time in half. By the hundredth day, he stayed in step with the other soldiers until the end.
Through basic endurance training over these hundred days, Meyer’s previously scrawny body had visibly improved.
He was still thin, but his stamina and endurance had increased, and his lean frame now carried solid muscle in places, likely from engaging his whole body while running.
The soldiers’ perception of Meyer had also changed.
In the first month, they just observed to see how long he could last. By the second month, a few had begun silently cheering him on. By the third month, they were astonished at how quickly he caught up.
No one approached him directly yet, but the overt hostility that once completely excluded Meyer had diminished.
They saw he truly pushed himself to keep up and that Rando, as he had promised, gave no special treatment.
“Line up!!!”
Meyer quickly fell into formation at the rear. The soldiers, including Meyer, held wooden swords. This was for the swordsmanship training conducted after morning jogging.
The training itself was simple.
Vertical slash. Horizontal slash. Diagonal slash. Thrust.
Repeating these four moves was significant for ordinary soldiers, as swords were traditionally weapons of knights, not common troops.
‘In that sense, Rando is remarkable.’
Though a knight, Rando shared the art of the sword even with common soldiers. His reasoning was simple: there is no weapon superior to the sword in close combat.
Viktor’s unit.
The undefeated Viktor unit was famous for moving as one body in battle, never breaking formation. Their weapon of choice was the sword.
They would drive the enemy with unbroken lines, then a pair would close in on a single enemy to strike and thrust with swords.
Thus, the unit’s standard equipment was shield and sword. Though spears existed, Rando excluded them from all but tactical drills.
“Once you’re familiar with the sword, other weapons are just an extension of it!”
Rando was a proponent of sword supremacy, and he proved it through results. Consequently, Viktor’s soldiers learned swordsmanship directly from him—even Meyer.
“Widen your stance. Keep your waist straight. Tighten your core. Only when your lower body is stable can your strikes be straight.”
“Yes!”
Meyer asked anyone—Rando, Vector, or other soldiers—for help if he didn’t understand something. Initially hesitant, the soldiers no longer flinched when Meyer asked.
‘This is how you build camaraderie. Ugh, exhausting.’
Thanks to his efforts, the soldiers’ wariness had visibly lessened. They might not approach warmly, but at least now they didn’t leave his side.
“Rest!”
Even though Meyer’s stamina and endurance had improved greatly, his swordsmanship had not yet. Plus, his body was still growing. He panted heavily, bracing himself with his wooden sword to avoid collapsing.
“Huff, huff, huff.”
Unlike Meyer, Viktor’s soldiers sweated but didn’t pant from exhaustion. Even knights didn’t train basic endurance for hours like this. But Rando demanded it, creating the undefeated unit.
Meyer noticed a water pouch nearby and smiled faintly.
“Thanks. I’ll drink well.”
He didn’t know who had placed it, but he thanked them silently before drinking.
Then Vector spoke.
“Hold! Orders from the Captain have come; he’s temporarily absent, so stand by!”
Meyer plopped down, thinking he could rest a bit longer. At that moment, the training ground door opened, and people in white uniforms entered.
“The Baekung Knights?”
Seeing the emblem on their uniforms, Meyer tilted his head. The Baekung Knights were among those who most despised Viktor. Another such group was the Iron Bears. As Vector hurried over, a knight emerged from the group.
“Doesn’t seem to be the commander.”
No name was visible above his head, so likely not the commander. But judging by Vector bowing and the knight’s arrogance, the relationship was clear.
Vector returned shortly after.
“A sparring match with the Baekung Knights is scheduled. Everyone, prepare.”
“What? Just like that?”
“Yes.”
Vector smiled bitterly. From his expression, this wasn’t the first time. They claimed it was practical training to maintain combat sense—an internal exchange with a plausible excuse.
Meyer’s eyes lit up.
‘While Sir Rando is away?’
As expected, complaints arose among the soldiers.
“Coming while the Captain’s away? Scoundrels.”
“Again?”
“Ugh, we need to be careful.”
Vector bit his lip.
“We’ll buy some time to prepare. Still, get ready.”
He returned to the Baekung Knights to give Viktor time, who had just rested.
At that moment—
Shhh!
Bang!
“Lieutenant!!!!”
Vector was struck in the cheek by a knight and flew back. The soldiers hurriedly caught him. A trickle of blood came from his mouth, likely from the aura-infused strike.
“How dare a mere lieutenant. We, the Baekung, offer guidance, yet he doesn’t accept it!”
The knight sneered at the soldiers. They clenched their fists in anger but didn’t dare respond.
“Oh, so without Sir Rando, you lot can’t do anything? I didn’t know that.”
The Baekung knight continued to provoke Viktor. The soldiers trembled with clenched fists. They said such things when envying Viktor’s achievements.
But they didn’t know how grueling Rando’s training was every day. Still, since the opponent was a knight, they endured.
Yet there was one who didn’t have to.
Swoosh
“Move aside.”
Meyer was shorter than the soldiers by a head, but when he spoke, they glanced at him.
Meyer smiled brightly at those staring at him.
“Unlike you lot, I’m not the one who has to listen to that.”
The soldiers stepped aside. Meyer pushed through and approached the Baekung knight.
The knight froze at the sight of Meyer but wasn’t surprised. Everyone in the lord’s castle knew Meyer had been training in Viktor’s unit for three months. He smiled charmingly at the knight, who hesitated whether to salute.
Shhh!
“Gah!”
Meyer threw his glove at the knight. Apparently, the knight hadn’t expected it, and the glove struck his cheek with a sharp slap.
“I, Meyer Garden, challenge an unknown Baekung knight to a duel. The reason for the duel is—”
Meyer glanced at the Viktor soldiers watching him in surprise before speaking.
“For insulting me and my comrades by calling us scoundrels.”
Comrades (戰友).
At that single word, a storm ignited in the eyes of the Viktor soldiers watching Meyer.
