Chapter Forty-Nine: The New Recruits' Martial Contest

The army is a place that requires morale, a place that demands courage and bloodlust. However, when these noble recruits first arrived, their “bloodlust” was somewhat excessive, so it was necessary to curb their arrogance. Yet, there are times when being wild and unrestrained is indeed essential, especially among the lower ranks. Otherwise, the army's combat effectiveness would be a cause for concern.

Training must also inspire the soldiers’ enthusiasm; mere obedience is not enough. Only with enough audacity and ferocity will the training matches be lively, and the whole army become a howling, formidable force—capable of fighting when called, and sure to win when fighting.

When Sain shouted, "Who dares defeat me? I will call him grandfather!" it was indeed a bit arrogant, but it actually drew approving nods from several generals. They all knew Sain was the son of the Captain of the Thunder Knights, and the Captain himself was seated among the generals. Hearing his son’s boast, he made no comment and simply sipped his water calmly.

Among the observers today were the three great Knight Commanders of the kingdom, along with several other legion commanders, the Vice Chancellor of the Royal Academy, the city’s Lord, and numerous marquises.

All three Knight Commanders were Saints—Sword Saints, to be precise. It’s worth noting, however, that a Sword Saint needn’t use a sword; the title is just that—a title. Much like “knight” is a title independent of whether one rides a horse.

The continent’s standard for measuring strength was simple. Any who fought with battle aura—whether they wielded swords, hammers, bows, whether they rode horses, donkeys, or went on foot—were all considered warriors, from Rank 1 to Rank 9. Those above Rank 9 were called Sword Saints. Anyone who fought with magic was a mage, also ranked from 1 to 9. But since mages above Level 5 could mentor junior mages, those ranks were often termed Mage Masters. Above Level 9, they were called Grand Magisters.

As for the weapons or mounts used by warriors, at the higher ranks, such distinctions became irrelevant. After Rank 7, warriors could wield multiple weapons, and mages could cast multi-school spells. No one dictated that a swordsman could only use a sword, an assassin could only wield daggers, an archer could only fire arrows, or that a cavalryman would be helpless without his horse.

Take, for example, a Sword Saint encountering a Grand Magister from afar. How should he fight? Should he use powerful sword techniques to close the distance? Resist enemy magic head-on with wide-area battle aura? Neither! In most cases, the Sword Saint would simply take up a bow and fight from a distance.

At the lower ranks, soldiers had a classification system, but it amounted to no more than Excellent, Good, Qualified, or Unqualified. For soldiers, it was just a subject to pass.

The 254th Legion always undertook special duties, training batch after batch of officers for the kingdom every year. After their recruit drills, these officers would be dispersed to garrisons around the country. Thus, each recruit drill was the perfect occasion to assess the new soldiers, and many legion commanders would either attend in person or send their aides.

Every legion wanted fresh blood and hoped to spot exceptional talent. The higher the rank of the attending officers, the more likely they were to secure the best men.

But there were also generals who came simply to watch, such as Major-General Fiora of the Pegasus Knights. Due to their unusual temperament, pegasi only bonded closely with women—a mystery unsolved despite much research. Thus, all Pegasus Knights were women. It’s said that once, a man disguised himself as a woman to approach a pegasus, but was promptly seen through and kicked aside, becoming a laughingstock.

Still, a trained, qualified Pegasus Knight was unquestionably the kingdom’s most elite aerial combat force. Unfortunately, pegasi were rare, and female knights even rarer. Though they claimed to be the strongest air force in the kingdom, their numbers never exceeded a thousand, with two hundred being mere grooms or support staff—leaving a fighting strength of just eight hundred.

This year’s recruits were all men, so Fiora’s attendance was merely a courtesy. With the other two Knight Commanders present, and convenient transport available, it was no trouble. In the midst of all these generals, the presence of a female major-general was especially striking.

Beside the generals and nobles, a smaller section had been set up. Here, several major mercenary company leaders had also been invited, including the heads of the Amethyst and Dreamback Companies. Naturally, they did not sit with the generals—their status was not yet high enough.

Their presence was, of course, another show of strength. The veterans’ abilities needed no demonstration; the main point was to showcase the recruits. The mercenary companies had been restless lately, having recently undergone a thorough investigation. This gesture was both an act of goodwill and a display of power.

The recruit drills included formation exercises, charge drills, and other group activities. By the time Kevin arrived, these had all concluded. Now it was time for individual demonstrations. Anyone confident in their ability could step into the arena and challenge another.

After so much joint training, everyone knew who the standouts were, even those from other training units. Sain, for instance, was a star among recruits—by far the strongest, with the best physical attributes—thanks largely to his lineage. With a Sword Saint for a father, it was hard for the son to be weak.

The trainers often discussed their recruits, and Sain’s strength was unanimously acknowledged. In terms of physique and quality of battle aura, he was already on par with the instructors, lacking only practical experience. In a few months, the instructors themselves might not be his match.

Only one other recruit could be considered Sain’s rival—the infamous “problem youth.” Kevin’s physical attributes and battle aura were slightly inferior to Sain’s, but he was unorthodox and unpredictable. In combat, pure strength isn’t always decisive, and Kevin might just have a shot at challenging Sain.

Sain knew this himself, but with Kevin away on assignment, the arena was his domain. Indulging in a little bravado only added to his aura, and brought pride to his father.

That is, until he glanced toward the field entrance and saw Kevin standing there.

Sain: "..."

Kevin: "..."

Their eyes met in silence. Kevin was still wrestling with how to slip back into formation, and had little interest in directly challenging Sain. He preferred to keep things cool—offending the son of a Knight Commander was never wise. His original plan was to keep a low profile for three months, let everyone’s abilities level out, and then make peace.

Still, Kevin had considered the possibility of a fight. If it came to that, so be it. As things stood, Sain had only said that if anyone beat him, he’d call them grandfather. He hadn’t demanded that losers must call him grandfather. Kevin could profit from that, though in truth, even if he won, he wouldn’t dare make Sain keep his word.

Several generals noticed the recruit lingering at the gate. They’d registered his presence earlier, but hadn’t cared. Now, seeing Sain staring at him for so long, they grew curious.

Seeing that he’d been noticed, Kevin had no choice but to march in and report to his officer, Marcus. “Kevin, returning from assignment, requests to rejoin the ranks.”

“Fall in,” Marcus replied, a little embarrassed. He was only a lowly recruit officer, with so many generals watching. Anyone unaware might think this recruit had overslept and arrived late.

At the mercenary leaders’ section, Commander Qianjue’s face darkened, his right hand clenched.

Next to him, Dreamback’s leader, Fonda Snow, spoke in an expressionless voice: “I heard that recruit pinched your buttocks?”

“Hmph, your day will come too,” Qianjue sneered. “When it does, you’d better not take your own life, being a female commander and all.”

“There are rumors he didn’t just pinch your butt, but did some other unspeakable things as well. Is it true?” Snow asked calmly.

Qianjue turned away, unwilling to respond. The two companies were at odds, and so were their leaders.

Meanwhile, Kevin had rejoined his unit. Gray, standing beside him, whispered almost inaudibly, “Go on. Take Sain down.”

Kevin, just back and not up to speed, asked, “What? I can just go up there?”

“Yes,” Gray replied. “Just go.” Having been bullied by Sain, he was eager to see someone teach him a lesson.

Kevin wanted to ask the instructor, but with everyone standing at attention, he dared not move. He could feel Sain’s gaze fixed on him from the arena.

After a moment’s thought, Kevin finally stepped out of formation. Since he had the ability, he should show it. It was said that those with no special skills ended up as cannon fodder in the front lines. For a better future assignment, Kevin had to fight for himself.

“Sain! I challenge you!” Kevin strode up to face Sain. Judging by Sain’s stance, it looked to be unarmed combat. But since it was a match, not a duel to the death, certain attacks were forbidden—something Kevin had clarified before coming to this country.

An unfamiliar captain stepped forward as referee. “No strikes to the groin or throat, avoid heavy blows, and stop at contact. I’ll judge the outcome.” The captain, seeing Kevin was just back, repeated the rules for his benefit.

Both nodded their agreement. At the captain’s signal, the match began.

Sain immediately burst forth with red battle aura. He dared not be careless against Kevin. He raised his arms and slashed twice, sending two crescent-shaped arcs of aura flying toward Kevin.

Kevin rolled backward, passing beneath the crossing aura blades. Sain attacked again; with Kevin on the ground, he had nowhere left to dodge.

Indeed, Kevin had no choice but to cross his arms and unleash his own battle aura to block. The clash of energy rang out sharply, with Kevin’s aura visibly weakening—he seemed unable to hold on.

Everyone present had seen Sain fight several times before. He always exploded with power, overwhelming opponents with lightning force. Most lost their nerve before the fight even began. But Sain truly was the strongest, and it seemed Kevin had no alternative.

Sain unleashed two more aura slashes. Kevin’s energy was nearly shattered, only a faint red glow remaining. Sain himself was also panting; using the same technique repeatedly was exhausting.

Seeing Kevin apparently helpless, Sain strode forward to finish him off.

Suddenly, Kevin rolled forward. The move caught Sain completely off guard. He’d never been good at grappling with someone on the ground; bending over with his hands was awkward, and kicking would throw him off balance. Kevin closed the distance in an instant, easily wrapping his arms around Sain’s legs.

With a mighty heave, Sain was flipped onto his back, arms and legs flailing.

Sain hurried to recover, but Kevin wasted no time. He lunged, pinning Sain’s head with one hand, knee on his chest, his left fist pressed to Sain’s face—but didn’t strike, only rubbed it a few times. After all, it was a friendly match.

“Kevin wins,” the referee announced. Admittedly, the referee wasn’t perfectly impartial—he knew Sain’s status and might have been inclined to favor him. But with such a clear outcome, there was no way to cover it up in front of everyone.

“Well done! Good fight!” The veterans started cheering, while the recruits remained at attention, not daring to move.

Several generals nodded in approval. Using tactics, feigning weakness to lure the opponent in, then counterattacking—this new recruit showed intelligence.

Some, however, were slightly puzzled. This rolling maneuver seemed… The general didn’t finish his thought, but covered his face with his hand. Everyone understood—he was hinting at assassin techniques, since only assassins usually wore masks.

But calling Kevin an assassin was a stretch—his skills were far too crude. Still, it couldn’t be ruled out that he had some connection to them. People like Laulu were officially here as an inspection team, and even generals didn’t know everything.

Regardless of the generals’ speculation, Kevin had already released Sain. The victor naturally wore a broad smile; the defeated, of course, gritted his teeth.

“I refuse! He fought dirty!” Sain roared.

“Childish,” Kevin taunted.

“Then let’s go again!” Sain’s anger flared. “Whoever loses calls the other grandfather!”

Kevin was unafraid. “Fine! Referee, please signal the start!”

“Wait!” Sain sneered, “This time we fight with weapons!”