WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble
Chapter 11
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Krono's Failure Student (2)
It really was a combination that couldn't help but draw attention.
Airen Farreira, fifteen years old, well past the average age of the other trainees, and someone who'd shown a thoroughly pathetic performance.
In short, the worst failure student at the fencing hall.
He looked like someone who'd wash out before he ever reached the Mid-Term Evaluation, and until now, not a single trainee had bothered speaking to him.
And yet the swordsmanship prodigy of House Lindsay, who'd never so much as exchanged a word with anyone, who hadn't shown the slightest interest even in the second place finisher, had walked up and spoken to him.
'What's this? Do the two of them know each other somehow?'
'No, that can't be right. There's no connection between them...'
'What could it be? What on earth.'
A strange curiosity began to bloom.
The other kids stopped what they were doing to watch the pair's every move.
Judith and Brett Lloyd were no exception. If anything, the two of them burned with more intense stares than anyone else.
But none of them managed to find out what they wanted to know.
The two spoke far too quietly to overhear.
"......"
"......"
The whispering continued at a volume that couldn't be heard unless standing right beside them.
Mostly the top student spoke, and the failure student nodded along. Occasionally he opened his mouth as if to ask something back, but most of the words came from Illia.
In the end, no one managed to catch what the two of them had talked about.
After a short while had passed, the silver haired girl returned to her own spot with a calm expression, as if nothing had happened at all.
Then she resumed her training. The brutal kind of training that made the other trainees feel a crushing sense of deprivation just watching.
"Hoop!"
Airen Farreira, too, went back to his own training.
The weight was embarrassingly light compared to Illia's.
But his expression was as serious as anyone's. The boy, instantly absorbed in his exercise, let out a sharp burst of a kiai.
His focus didn't last long, though.
Following Illia Lindsay, yet another trainee came to find him.
"Hey."
"......"
"Ignoring me? If someone calls you, you're supposed to answer, aren't you?"
The red haired girl, Judith, who despite being commoner born had pulled off the feat of finishing second on the physical ability test.
Her tone was clipped and prickly. Airen answered a beat late.
"Right, sorry. What is it? Do you need something from me..."
"Not from you."
Judith cut Airen's words off sharply.
Her tone made it sound like she couldn't possibly have any interest in someone like him.
The girl, still wearing an annoyed expression, moved in close beside Airen.
Then she asked quietly, right next to his ear.
"Just now, what were you two talking about?"
"......"
"What kind of secret conversation makes you talk that quietly? Did you already know each other before this? No, never mind, just tell me everything you talked about. From start to finish."
"......"
"Come on."
Judith wasn't taking no for an answer. Like a one woman tyrant. Airen was a little flustered.
But the feeling didn't last long.
He already knew the girl in front of him had a prickly personality, and he'd dealt with a similar type before. His little sister, Kiril.
Besides, it wasn't as if she was asking for anything difficult.
Airen nodded and spoke up.
"It's nothing much. Just..."
"Shh. Keep your voice down. Only I should hear it."
"...It's really nothing, I mean it. She just showed me some things, like proper form when using the training machines."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Judith's tone turned fierce. Her feelings ran hot enough that Airen could feel her breath. His ear grew warm.
She clearly didn't believe a word of it.
But Airen had no choice but to repeat the same thing, because it was the truth.
The boy spoke again, his expression calm.
"Yeah. My form must have looked bad while I was training, so she pointed out a few things. Honestly it helped a lot, since these were machines I was using for the first time too..."
"Really? That's really all it was?"
"It's true. I'm not lying."
Judith stopped whispering, stepped back, and looked Airen over.
A cute face.
But her expression was as terrifying as an interrogator wringing out a confession from a criminal.
Of course, since Airen had nothing to hide, he stayed composed, and Judith clicked her tongue in open displeasure before finally turning to leave.
Airen let out a sigh.
"Whew."
Judith's behavior made sense to him, in its own way.
The top student, someone who put up overwhelming results like she stood on a cloud above everyone else, someone who seemed to have no interest in interacting with anyone at all, had suddenly walked up and spoken to him.
From the perspective of the second place finisher, burning with competitive spirit, it was only natural to be curious.
But Airen had no idea what was going on in Illia Lindsay's head either, so there was nothing more he could tell her.
'Why did she bother helping me, of all people? Pity? Sympathy?'
Airen thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.
It wasn't a question that would get answered no matter how much he thought about it. Honestly, it didn't matter much either.
What mattered far more was making good use of this time.
Since he'd wasted more years than anyone else his age, he needed to pour in far more effort than anyone else, too.
Having steadied his resolve once again, Airen tried to get back to his training.
But there was another uninvited guest waiting.
Brett Lloyd, who'd placed third on the physical ability test, had come up right beside him at some point and spoke.
"Hey."
"...What."
"I've got something I'm curious about. Mind telling me what you and Illia Lindsay talked about?"
"......"
"Oh, and whatever you said to Judith too, if you can."
Watching Brett Lloyd lean in close to his ear and ask the exact same question the second place finisher had, Airen sighed inwardly.
* * *
Ten days had passed since the trainee candidates entered Krono Fencing Hall.
The daily routine hadn't changed. Endless physical conditioning, followed by a short liberal arts lesson. It made sense that the kids' expressions were rotting a little more with each passing day.
"Damn it, I never thought it'd be like this..."
"Sure, I get that stamina matters. But isn't it a bit much to keep us from even holding a sword for four whole months?"
"Tell me about it."
Of course, it wasn't as if there was nothing good to come out of it at all.
The environment was harsh and grueling, but that very harshness had drawn the trainees closer together.
The days of awkward greetings between kids who didn't even know each other's names were long gone.
By now it had become a common sight to see trainees who got along sharing meals together, chatting during free time.
Still, rare as it was, there were some who never joined a group.
"Huff, huff, hah!"
Sweat poured off Judith's entire body as she ran the running course.
Her red hair, tied up carelessly, and her deeply furrowed expression told just how much she was struggling.
And yet she barely rested at all.
While the others made excuses to rest and gathered in twos and threes to chat, she kept up her training alone, in solitude.
Brett Lloyd, resting near the sand course, stopped and muttered.
"Vicious little thing."
She really was something else.
He himself had once believed his mental fortitude was second to none.
That belief had been a point of pride as a high ranking noble.
Born to lead those beneath him, he understood the weight of his bloodline, and because of that, he'd lived a life more diligent than anyone's since childhood.
But in front of Judith, that pride dimmed a little.
'Me, falling behind a commoner.'
He didn't want to admit it.
But he couldn't help admitting it. His towering pride began with cold, clear self assessment.
The moment a person started lying to themselves, whatever pride or self respect they had would sink straight into the mud.
"Damn it."
"Is something the matter, Lord Lloyd?"
"Did something upset you..."
"Did that lowborn Judith girl give you trouble?"
He muttered a curse under his breath. One by one, the trainees around him started offering flattering words.
Brett looked at them.
Lesser kids who'd fallen in under him of their own accord, in a fencing hall that didn't officially recognize noble rank. Still, they weren't entirely useless.
Given the right kind of support to lean on, they could pull their own weight well enough.
Which was why.
'I can't show weakness in front of these kids who only look to me, who rely on me.'
Having thought that through, the eldest son of a high ranking noble house spoke, biting off each word.
"It's nothing. Let's get moving again."
"Ugh. Already..."
"If you can't keep up, follow at your own pace. But if you can, run like your life depends on it."
I will not lose. As the eldest son of House Lloyd, I'll give everything I have to beat you.
With that resolve burning inside him, Brett Lloyd forced himself forward across the sand course, where every step sank deep.
That was when a voice drifted over from behind.
"Chest up."
"Kuh, huff!"
"Breathe through your nose, not your mouth, even if it's hard. Focus so your ankles don't roll."
"Huff, hah, kuhh!"
A girl's voice, strikingly beautiful yet utterly flat, and an unpleasant, ragged gasping that sounded like it might give out at any second.
Brett Lloyd knew exactly whose voices those were.
'Illia Lindsay, Airen Farreira...'
The bizarre pairing of Adan Kingdom's greatest prodigy and Hale Kingdom's worst layabout.
Actually, calling them a pairing was a stretch.
The gifted daughter of House Lindsay only looked after the lazy lord for the briefest moment, spending most of her time on her own training, just like Judith.
But even that brief moment of the two of them being linked together was strange enough on its own.
Sure enough, every trainee running behind Brett couldn't tear their eyes away from the pair.
'No need to pay it any mind.'
But Brett Lloyd himself had little interest in it.
He was curious about their relationship, sure, but honestly, those two had nothing to do with him.
One of them possessed talent he could never hope to reach.
He hadn't thought that way at first. He'd believed he could manage it, that there was no reason to be intimidated by the towering name of House Lindsay.
But now he understood. That precious existence wasn't something effort alone could ever close the gap on.
And as for Airen Farreira...
'...it's the exact opposite reason.'
A failure student who'd never made an ounce of effort in his life, who'd clearly gotten in through some kind of connections.
No matter how hard someone like that flailed, there was no way he'd ever reach him.
No, in the first place, he wouldn't even be able to keep flailing for long.
Right now he was working hard because of the trainees' mockery, because of Illia Lindsay's encouragement...
'The moment he gets used to that push, he'll go right back. Back to who he was before.'
There was always a reason the lazy lord got called the lazy lord.
No rumor comes from nowhere.
Having settled his thoughts, Brett Lloyd pulled his gaze away from the pair.
Then he started running down the sandy path again.
'My target is second place.'
"Huff, hah!"
"Wait for us, Lord Lloyd!"
His loyal followers trailed behind him, faces strained but wearing expressions of genuine seriousness.
They fell short compared to the top ranks, but even they had poured in more effort than any kid their age outside the fencing hall could match.
Or else they carried talent to match that effort.
That was why they could think the same way Brett did. That someone like Airen Farreira wasn't even worth considering.
Even the trainees ranked far below them held the same thought.
Whatever anyone else thought, Airen Farreira simply kept doing his best, as much as he could.
* * *
Time flowed on.
Ten days, then ten more. A month since the trainee candidates had entered the hall.
The trainees slowly began adjusting to the fencing hall's routine.
Krono's evaluations were absolute, not relative. In other words, there was no need to compete against each other to pass.
Hopeful talk began to circulate, that if things kept going this way, everyone might pass together without issue. Except the lazy lord, of course.
Airen Farreira paid it no mind.
He simply did the best he could.
* * *
More time flowed on.
The second month. The seasons shifted, and the days slowly began to stretch longer.
Around this time, several trainees started giving up on self training. The daily schedule had grown too demanding.
It wasn't that the hours had increased. The difficulty of the training itself had risen to an absurd degree.
Most of the kids outside the top ranks began to feel like they'd hit their limit.
Stamina and injuries weren't the real problem.
Krono Fencing Hall's recovery room was highly capable, and Instructor Rune Tarhall found ways to keep the trainees moving no matter what.
That was the thing. As long as a trainee had enough mental fortitude, they could still commit fully to the evening self training.
They simply couldn't manage it.
Of course, none of that applied to Airen Farreira.
He kept doing the best he could, same as always.
* * *
And time flowed on once more.
The third month since enrollment. In the sweltering heat, both trainees and instructors alike began to wear down.
By now, the majority of trainees had given up on self training entirely.
There was no helping it. After grinding through a daily routine that grew harsher by the day, nobody wanted to so much as lift a finger.
If not for the instructors' stern warnings, twice as many would have skipped dinner altogether and collapsed straight into sleep.
Of course, not everyone was like that.
The top three, Illia Lindsay, Judith, and Brett Lloyd, still threw themselves into self training with total dedication. They worked at it like their lives depended on it.
Their fine talent meant they could have gotten away with slacking off a little more than the rest, but not one of the three ever let up.
Add to that a few of Brett Lloyd's loyal followers, plus a handful of other diligent trainees. Ten kids in total kept up their training without skipping a single day.
And Airen Farreira, naturally, was one of those ten trainees.
He kept showing the best he could give, over and over, without fail.
That was when it started.
The trainee candidates of Krono Fencing Hall could no longer call the lazy lord the lazy lord.
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