WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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Chapter 108: 15. Real Combat Is Standard for Academy Summer Vacation Events (13)
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“Hmm.”
“Not ‘hmm’.... Wait a second. Esi, I’m not the only one seeing that, right? You see it too? You all see it?”
“Yes....”
“Uh....”
“Yeah.”
Ivan looked over the injured students one by one as he thought.
There was no need to torture the students, so he ought to find a priest.
They were hurt worse than expected. Still, none of the injuries were serious enough to leave lasting effects. In this incredible premodern fantasy world, priests could use actual healing magic.
Iron grew stronger when hammered, and the ground hardened after rain, so it would be fine. Of course, people did not work that way.
Everyone had attained neural acceleration, making this training remarkably successful. In only six days, he had developed cadets who had not even grasped the concept of neural acceleration.
If he refined this curriculum and made it part of the regular program, the Counterintelligence Command's combat capability would rise beyond the reach of most military organizations.
“Uncle. Is that real?”
“Hmm?”
“Really, truly. Seriously, really seriously. You’re fine? You’re not hurt anywhere? You can move and everything...?”
“What do you mean?”
Were they hallucinating from the pain? Ivan raised a hand and gave a signal. An agent who had received priestly ordination came hurrying over.
After a little healing prayer and a transfer to a nearby estate for treatment at a church, they would recover before vacation ended.
Ivan had plenty of experience in that area. He did not need special surgical knowledge. He had experienced most of it himself.
Unless it involved losing a limb entirely, Ivan had personally suffered nearly every injury imaginable. He could assess the cadets’ conditions from the severity of their wounds alone.
The injuries were not too serious for the amount of pain they caused. That was likely thanks to the cadets’ miraculous physical abilities.
It was actually impressive. In exchange for spending only a month or two in a clinic, they had managed to set foot in the realm of superhumans. It was not a loss at all. It absolutely was.
“No, wait! Wait!! Stop!”
“Hmm.”
“Stop saying ‘hmm’ too! What... what... what did you just do? Have you seriously lost your mind? You were just watching us?”
“Ah, that is not true.”
He had been continuously monitoring the situation to assist with the training.
Therefore, it had been perfectly controlled and safe training. Or so Ivan explained in a flat tone, which only made her feel more frustrated.
“Safe!! You call that safe?! Look at them! Oscar has both arms broken, and Elphihara is crying tears of blood!”
“Uncle, I got struck by lightning....”
“They were injuries within the expected range.”
“Aaaaaah!! Since when? Why?!!”
“From the beginning.”
Ivan felt it was time to give them comprehensive evaluation feedback. Reviewing mistakes immediately after solving a problem was more effective for learning. It was an advanced product of twenty-first-century education, bestowed upon this premodern world.
“When was the first moment you thought, ‘We are being attacked by demonfolk’?”
“What...?”
“The gunshots. When an agent was shot and fell. I watched as you panicked and chose to flee at that point.”
“Well, of course we would! Someone got riddled with bullets and collapsed right in front of us...?”
At the end of Isabelle’s gaze, an agent waved both hands with a touched expression.
It was the agent who had screamed for them to run while spilling blood and getting shot on the first day of the attack.
“Urrgh....”
Isabelle clutched her face and let out a strange scream.
“Did any of the orcs you encountered carry gunpowder weapons?”
“...?!”
“You should have noticed then. The orcs did not use guns. The only people carrying and using firearms in this forest were the agents.”
“What are you even...?!”
Ivan stopped there and waved a hand.
Soon, agents poured out of the forest. Roughly fifty large men emerged, forming a wide circle around them.
Each of them looked at the girls with broad smiles.
“W-What’s this? What’s with this atmosphere?!”
“But congratulations. You completed every stage with excellent results, learned teamwork and survival skills, and mastered neural acceleration. You exceeded your training objectives.”
Ivan was someone who clearly rewarded merit and punished wrongdoing. Every task naturally required a reward.
At his signal, all at once and with great solemnity.
Some of them were even sniffling.
It could not be helped. The Counterintelligence Command were the spiritual successors of the Annihilation Unit, so they were bound to be very generous toward the Hero Party.
-Clap.
-Clap. Clap. Clap.
-Clapclap. Clap.
The agents began applauding solemnly.
Isabelle heard something snap inside her head.
“Ghk....”
She grabbed the back of her neck and fainted.
* * *
-Tap, tap, tap.
A fountain pen with a gold nib rhythmically tapped against the table. One should not do this. Fountain pen nibs were very delicate.
The ink gathered on the nib spattered across the table.
It spread black across the surface, as if expressing her mental state.
How artistic. Elizaveta held her teacup in trembling hands.
Clink, clink. An irritating sound rang out. Ah, she had developed a tremor without meaning to. Well, that was understandable.
Tapping the table with the fountain pen had not been intentional either. Her hand was simply trembling. Trembling and trembling.
[All training procedures described above were controlled by the reporting officer. Injuries sustained during the operation received on-site treatment before being transferred to a follow-up clinic.
Isabelle: Full-body bruising, fractures in two locations, medical recommendation for long-term recovery due to neural overload attached.
Elphihara: Internal circuit damage caused by accumulated mana fatigue. Receipts for the medicinal materials required for recovery are provided in Reference 2.
Oscar: Fractures in both upper arms, fracture in left foot, sprain below the knee, muscle tears in at least fifteen locations, medical recommendation for over one month of intensive treatment attached.
Aesidis: Exposure to a medium-range offensive spell, estimated Rank 6. Burns in at least five locations, muscle tears, severe sprain of ligaments in left arm, medical recommendation for over five weeks of intensive treatment due to neural strain attached.
Remaining space left blank.
Reporter: Ivan Petrovich Yermof.
Reviewer: Dmitry Cherkatov.]
“....”
Elizaveta tried to swallow her tea with trembling hands, spilled it down the front of her clothes twice, then gave up.
As always, Ivan’s report was astonishingly plain. So plain that it felt like chewing dry wood.
Unlike usual, she wanted something sweet. If Ivan had known, he would have diagnosed her with a lack of sugar in the brain.
Sadly, Krasilov boasted a consistently cold climate throughout all four seasons, meaning it depended entirely on imports for sugarcane. As a frugal monarch, Elizaveta once again resisted the temptation of sugar.
Instead, she accepted a different temptation.
“How many have you counted?”
“One thousand, five hundred and forty-three, Your Majesty.”
“Maintain proper form until two thousand.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Only then did she set down the report and raise her head.
In one corner of the spacious university president’s office, two men were doing handstand push-ups.
Having received the strict order to perform them using pure physical ability without mana, Ivan and Dmitry had sweated enough to form puddles on the floor.
“Stop. Stop. Stop!! Stop!!!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Aaaaaah!! Ah... aaah! Why! Why did you do it? Why?!”
Ivan immediately steadied his somewhat rough breathing, then dropped to one knee in perfect posture and waited for orders.
He was always the model of a plain, loyal subject. So plain that she wanted to chew him up. Elizaveta instead bit the tip of her fountain pen with trembling hands.
“Did I ask too much? Is this my fault? No, it is my fault. Vanka. I have committed a great wrong by failing to teach you common sense and manners. Then again, you have lived on battlefields since childhood, so your ignorance and rudeness cannot be your fault alone. It is my fault. I am the wretch who ought to die!!”
Ivan quietly lowered his head and let Elizaveta’s words pass by.
Honestly, common sense and manners were not matters a dictatorial monarch of a premodern pseudo-Russian empire had any business lecturing others about.
Ivan had been admitted to a four-year university in the Republic of Korea, the Land of the Morning Calm, a nation whose moral standards and etiquette had flowered under five hundred years of strict Confucian culture. He had even earned the highest grade in Ethics on the social studies exam, making him a living textbook of morality.
Still, Ivan was a rational person, so he did not elaborate on things that could not be explained. He simply bowed his head in silence.
Watching him, Elizaveta clutched at her chest.
“I... only... ordered you to come report what you were thinking when, during the tournament, you carried out the purge of every great noble and reformed the domestic power structure without consulting me. Was that not so?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And then, claiming you would act first and report later, you took the students... without even obtaining the principal’s approval. You called it a special class, dragged them off, and trained them in the wilderness.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Not ‘yes, Your Majesty’!!”
Elizaveta panted, then covered her face.
“I understand... I understand that training was necessary. I do.”
She looked at Ivan through her fingers. Seeing his stoic expression filled her with frustration and anger, but then her chest suddenly ached.
Yes, that man still lived on the battlefield.
That was why he had taken students away in this peaceful age and put them through harsh survival training. His methods had been excessively cruel, but she could understand them.
These were not ordinary students. They were descendants of the Hero Party. Demonfolk, ambitious figures, nobles harboring treasonous thoughts, anyone wishing to cause chaos would find them the most tempting targets.
So this man had acted to minimize the damage that would eventually come to Krasilov.
As he always had. He had done it for this country.
Even so.
Still.
“Aaaaaah!!”
Elizaveta did not want to believe that she had to send diplomatic letters to foreign dignitaries saying, “Your precious child has been badly injured, but is fortunately receiving treatment without lasting effects. Sadly, they will likely be unable to return home during this semester’s vacation.” Krasilov never held foreign dignitaries hostage, difficult as that might be to believe.
She groaned, then spoke with effort.
“Miss Isabelle had something she asked me to convey to you the moment she woke up.”
“I am listening, Your Majesty.”
A course evaluation.
Ivan raised his head with satisfaction. He was rather confident. His educational program had been conducted in an environment where every variable had been carefully controlled.
“She asked that her independent attempt to assassinate you be permitted. I approved it.”
“...Yes, Your Majesty.”
Ivan nodded expressionlessly, then looked somewhat dejected.
“You are now confined to quarters.... No, just... just....”
Idiot.
Elizaveta swallowed the final word with difficulty and waved away the two fools. Dmitry felt wronged.
It was roughly a week after summer vacation began.
EP15. Real Combat Is Standard for Academy Summer Vacation Events
Footnotes:
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