Chapter 08
Kebania (3)
On the western side of the lord’s manor was the barracks where the garrison was stationed. Behind the barracks lay the stables and a wide open field used as a training ground for the soldiers.
There, dozens of soldiers stood in neat formation, clad in armor and armed with spears or swords.
Aside from those guarding the walls and patrolling the village outside the castle, nearly the entire garrison was gathered.
“Their eyes are alive.”
Seated in a soft chair that Rondo had brought for him, Ian looked over the soldiers lined up in the training yard and gave a slight nod.
It seemed only men of excellent physique had been chosen—each soldier stood tall and broad-shouldered, brimming with strength.
“Let’s see what they can do.”
Ian glanced at Rondo, standing on his right.
Rondo raised his arm and drew a wide circle in the air.
“Hah!”
The soldiers shouted in unison, their voices echoing as if to shake the very castle. They split into two groups and swung their weapons sharply.
Clang!
The impact of dozens of weapons striking nearly simultaneously was so loud that the leaves of the surrounding trees quivered.
The soldiers soon clashed in earnest, thrusting and slashing with their swords, striking chests with shields, and driving opponents back with a flurry of spear thrusts.
Ian’s eyes gleamed as he watched the battle unfold like a real skirmish.
Blades and spearheads flashed dazzlingly in the sunlight, and sweat dripping beneath helmets cut through the dust before splattering onto the ground.
“Prepare for formation!”
The mock battle quickly shifted from individual duels to group combat.
The two sides charged, shields raised in front.
Boom!
Deadly spearpoints and sword blades stabbed between the shields, and soldiers grimly turned their heads to avoid them.
A few men had their helmets knocked loose by spear thrusts and suffered minor injuries.
“Enough!”
Ian rose from his chair and barked in a firm voice. At once, the soldiers broke apart like a receding tide.
With Rondo at his side, Ian walked slowly into the field.
The harsh breathing of dozens of soldiers and the lingering heat of battle wrapped around him.
“Is this yours?”
Ian picked up a helmet lying on the ground and looked at a bearded soldier with a bronzed face.
The soldier, unable to recover his helmet in time, stiffened nervously and answered loudly.
“Yes, my lord!”
“Take it.”
When the lord himself handed him the helmet, the soldier froze, stunned, and failed to accept it.
But quickly regaining his senses, he dropped to one knee and received it with both hands.
Ian strolled slowly among the soldiers, observing their faces.
Their entire bodies were tense, coiled like springs that might lash out with blades at the slightest touch.
Clearly, harsh training had honed them well.
“How much drilling does it take to forge men like this? Have they all seen real battlefields before?”
Having fought aliens for ten years, Ian could tell without difficulty that these soldiers were exceptionally skilled.
“Rondo.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“These soldiers seem outstanding to me. How do they compare to the forces of neighboring lords?”
Rondo answered at once, without a hint of hesitation.
“Our numbers are fewer, but every soldier of Albern’s garrison is a valiant elite. Equal in number, they would never fall behind. In my opinion, even compared to the royal household guard, they are not lacking.”
“Oh? The royal guard?”
Ian stopped and looked back in surprise. The massive Rondo spoke proudly.
“Yes. To defend our land with so few men, each soldier had to become an elite worth ten ordinary men.”
“I see.”
Ian regarded the assembled soldiers with fresh eyes.
Their faces overlapped in his mind with the militia left behind on Earth.
“Making elite soldiers isn’t easy.”
“The captain of the guard trained us well. Harshly… but effectively.”
Rondo seemed to both respect and fear the captain.
“What kind of man is he?”
Ian admired the captain’s ability to forge such soldiers, but also felt wary. The man’s influence seemed no less significant than that of the treasurer or the scribe.
All the soldiers seemed loyal to him. Even Rondo.
Though the captain had left the castle to drive bandits from the domain, his shadow lingered strong.
“Rondo, how strong is this captain of the guard?”
Rondo hesitated. Strength was relative, and he did not know the captain’s full measure. But there was one thing certain.
“The captain can use Force.”
“Force? What’s that?”
Ian turned to him, curious. Rondo swallowed dryly.
“In the beginning, the god who created the world left behind power to fight against demons. That power is called Force. When one wields it, one can surpass human limits in an instant and unleash tremendous strength.”
Even hearing of it sent a thrill through Ian.
“Incredible. And where can Force be found?”
“As I said—everywhere.”
Rondo spread his arms wide to indicate their surroundings.
“Though invisible, Force left by the god is scattered throughout this world. Only our eyes cannot see it.”
Ian paused, inwardly shocked.
The Force sounded strikingly similar to the qi he had cultivated in martial arts.
“Do you know how to use it too?”
Rondo quickly dropped his arms and gave an embarrassed smile.
“No, my lord.”
“How does one learn?”
“What do you mean?”
“That—Force. Those who can use it must have a reason.”
Ian mimed grasping at the air.
Rondo smirked inwardly.
“He’s interested… Does my lord want to wield Force himself?”
But he struggled to explain, for only the captain truly knew.
“Tell me what you do know.”
As Ian walked back toward his chair, he tossed the words casually.
“Then… it is said that while training—whether with sword or spear, reading alone in the woods, or even fighting enemies—there comes a sudden moment when one senses Force. That is all I know. Forgive me, my lord. When the captain returns, you could ask him for more.”
“No breathing technique then.”
“Breathing technique? My lord?”
“Never mind.”
Ian was now convinced they called qi by another name here.
But their understanding of it seemed… different.
“What a fascinating world. Force…”
As a cultivator of martial arts, Ian could imagine how powerful it must be.
With seven years of training, he had shattered alien walking robots with his fists and torn the arms off bio-weapons.
Underwater, he could hold his breath far beyond normal limits.
He was on the path to becoming superhuman.
“So only the captain can use Force?”
Seating himself again, Ian asked.
“Yes, my lord. He is the only one in your service. There was one more, but he left.”
“Why? Did I neglect him?” Ian asked with regret.
“No. He left while the previous lord was still alive. He is now a mage in service of Grand Lord Bonnen.”
At the word mage, Ian leapt to his feet.
“A mage, you say?”
“Yes.”
“One who conjures fire and ice to fight?”
“Indeed, he is a mage.”
Rondo nodded matter-of-factly. Ian gazed up at the bright sky.
Mercenaries, monsters, mages…
What would come next?
“So he went to the Grand Lord? Likely promised higher rank and gold, I suppose?”
Calming himself, Ian sat again.
“Something like that. Mage Sharel married the Grand Lord’s second daughter.”
He must have been a remarkable mage—worth luring with marriage.
“But why does Rondo’s expression look like that?”
Ian noticed the bitterness in Rondo’s eyes.
“Sharel—he was your friend, wasn’t he?”
“H-how did you know?”
Rondo’s voice shrank to a whisper.
“Haha! You’re jealous.”
“N-no, my lord.”
“Speak honestly. You know the punishment for deceiving your lord.”
Ian’s serious tone made Rondo stiffen.
He glanced toward the soldiers before answering slowly.
“Sharel and I were childhood friends from the same village. But before twenty, he awakened to Force and became a mage. He rose so high so quickly… Even the captain treated him with caution, and the former lord cherished him. Then… he accepted the Grand Lord’s offer and left without hesitation. All he left behind was a single letter. For one who had sworn loyalty, that was unthinkable.”
Rondo’s eyes had turned cold—not jealousy, but anger.
“Not long after he left, the previous lord was assassinated in his study. Thinking of it fills me with fury.”
Ian was touched by Rondo’s loyalty and blunt honesty. To have such a man as his retainer was a blessing.
“If he had to choose between me and the captain, whom would Rondo follow?”
A strange jealousy of the absent captain crept over Ian. He reached out and poked Rondo’s side.
His fingernail tapped against the silver armor with a clear ring.
“Rondo, how old are you?”
“About thirty-three, my lord.”
“Not married, are you?”
“No, my lord.”
Rondo answered with an embarrassed expression, making Ian smile warmly.
“Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
Rising from his chair, Ian cast one last glance over the training ground.
