WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 15

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Growth (4)

How were stamina and mental fortitude related to each other?

There was no single correct answer. Both were difficult to measure numerically, and the relationship differed from person to person.

But for those whose profession demanded physical training, especially knights and swordsmen, ask them this question and they would all say roughly the same thing.

A sound mind dwells in a sound body.

Yes. Most swordsmen believed the two factors, stamina and mental fortitude, existed in a directly proportional relationship.

And among the two, they believed the body grew first, with the mind following after.

"Obviously. Whose willpower do you think is stronger? Some green kid who's never done a day of hard labor in his life, or a knight who's swung a sword and pushed his body every single day for ten years straight, enduring pain and boredom without fail?"

It was a persuasive enough argument that even an illiterate mercenary who'd never read a book could argue it eloquently.

Instructor Ahmed had held that same belief for a long time.

Day after day of training, slowly pushing back the limits of the body, enduring ever greater and heavier pain without end.

In that process, a person's willpower grew too.

Just as muscle fibers tore, healed, and grew stronger, there was an invisible muscle in a person's mind as well.

That was surely how it worked.

"The mind is dominating the body."

Ian, Hall Master of Krono Fencing Hall, gave an assessment of Airen Farreira that differed from what Ahmed believed.

It wasn't that the words made no sense. Ahmed had heard something like it before.

The story of a mother who summoned superhuman strength in an instant to save her child pinned under a boulder, everyone had heard some version of that tale.

But he had never imagined it might apply here.

Still, Ahmed didn't interrupt Ian, and Ian paid no mind to what Ahmed might be thinking.

Ian only ran his fingers over the teacup in front of him, long gone cold, and kept talking.

"It's strange. Strange indeed. Not impossible, mind you. There are cases where a transcendent will takes hold of the body for a moment and produces some tremendous feat. I've been saved by that kind of thing myself, more than once, in situations where death was staring me in the face. What about you two?"

"I've experienced something like that once."

"As have I..."

"But that's a miracle that only ever lasts an instant."

"..."

"For it to keep happening, over and over, for that kind of iron will to hold... in ninety years, I've never seen anything like it."

Ian finished speaking and closed his eyes.

He pictured the trainee he'd just watched, Airen Farreira.

A staggering will that far surpassed the shabby body currently housing it.

A body forced to grow, no, to evolve, just to keep pace with that supreme will.

Watching that trainee's body keep moving, keep pushing forward, even though it had clearly hit its limit, Ian couldn't help but feel the shock of every piece of common sense he'd built up over a lifetime crumbling to pieces.

"Magic isn't even a strong enough word for it. It's as if someone worked Sorcery on him."

Muscles, ligaments, bones that should have collapsed and broken were held together by sheer will, drawing in the energy of the world around them to recover at breakneck speed.

And then, once again, a load too great to bear, and the same process repeated.

Having thought this far, the Hall Master let out a shallow breath.

A breath tinged with anticipation, and a touch of exhilaration.

Along with it came a picture, forming in his mind, of the future that boy would one day reach.

The Hall Master opened his eyes quietly and spoke.

"As I said before, leave trainee Airen Farreira be for a while."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Ahmed and Karaka answered at once.

Neither harbored any worry that Airen's body might break down. Their faith in the Hall Master was absolute.

But the words that followed left them at a loss.

"That aside, what do we do about that Judith girl..."

"Hmm."

"That's..."

To stop Judith's rampage, they needed to rein Airen in.

But that was no longer an option.

The wrinkles on Ian's weathered forehead deepened further.

"This batch of trainees is really something else. Kids like these, you'd struggle to find even one in a normal year, and now we've got four of them... heh heh."

The Krono Hall Master's peculiar laughter spread quietly through the room.

* * *

The Mid-Term Evaluation of Krono Fencing Hall, the critical fork in the road that would decide "pass" or "fail," was now a day away.

Most of the kids worked to keep their bodies in peak condition.

The top-ranked kids, including Illia Lindsay and Brett Lloyd, the mid-rankers, the low-rankers, all of them.

Only a handful of the most anxious kids couldn't bear the pressure and went out running instead.

But two were different: Judith, the Fencing Hall's perennial runner-up, and Airen Farreira, who'd walked in wearing the disgraceful title of the lazy lord.

They trained like people who'd forgotten what tomorrow even was.

"Those crazy bastards."

"Are they actually insane? What are they even thinking?"

"They're going to wreck themselves and not even show up tomorrow."

"Too bad it's not a relative ranking. We could've knocked two of them out just by them collapsing."

The other kids shook their heads at the madness of the two trainees.

The Brett family clicked their tongues as well, and Illia wore an expression of pure incomprehension before heading back to the dormitory.

Even so, the boy and the girl didn't stop.

Night fell.

Thud!

"Hah, hah!"

Judith dropped roughly onto the ground of the outdoor course and looked over toward the indoor training room.

The magic lamp still lit the inside. No doubt about it. That guy was still going, still training.

The realization sent a chill down Judith's spine. For the first time, she felt a sense of defeat she'd never even felt from Illia Lindsay.

"That crazy bastard! Doing all that, hah, and he thinks he can take the test tomorrow, hah!"

Idiot, moron, worm, pathetic bastard. A stream of curses kept spilling out of her. After sitting there for a long while, the girl finally dragged herself back to the dormitory.

I'm not backing down. Not at all.

Getting enough sleep is essential before tomorrow's test.

The thoroughly reasonable thought offered Judith some comfort, but it didn't make her feel any better.

What had carried her this far had always been fiery emotion and a fighting spirit, never cool, icy reason.

Still, there was nothing she could do. She truly, truly couldn't push any further.

Tomorrow, I'll crush him.

The red-haired girl ground her teeth as she washed up, then lay down on her bed with an uneasy heart.

And so, when every trainee had drifted off to sleep,

even at that late hour, Airen Farreira had not stopped moving his body.

"Hoop, hooh!"

Every muscle in his body pulsed without rest.

"Hooh, hah!"

Blood surged through him, faster and faster.

Oxygen, nutrients, and some unknown energy were carried to every corner of his body.

His body, breaking down bit by bit, recovered as if nothing had happened and kept moving.

"Guh, ugh, ngghh..."

Of course, the process wasn't smooth.

A load that would take ordinary people days to recover from healed in an instant, and the pain that came with it was beyond words.

Enough to make an ordinary person give up on the spot. Enough to make them collapse to the ground, sobbing.

But Airen Farreira didn't.

The boy who'd broken out of his shell had become something solid, something that could no longer simply be called a boy.

A little more. Let's do just a little more.

Pain far greater than what he'd endured during the physical ability test right after entering the school kept crashing over him, wave after wave.

But the lazy lord didn't get swept away. He kept moving forward.

Forward, and forward, and forward again.

Forgetting time, forgetting pain, forgetting the eyes watching him, forgetting the ugly memories of the past, forgetting every petty, nagging thing that had tormented him so relentlessly.

Just as the man in his dream had once done, chasing a single goal and running toward it without looking away,

Airen Farreira could feel it.

The wall of his body's limits, the one that had held him back, had shattered into pieces somewhere along the way.

"..."

Airen stopped moving and looked down, checking over every part of his body.

He was soaked through with sweat, as if he'd been caught in a downpour.

Patches of white salt showed here and there, and a foul, unidentifiable stench even worse than the smell of sweat greeted him.

And yet, strangely, he didn't feel bad at all.

If anything, he felt refreshed.

Airen Farreira threw off his shirt and stepped out of Training Room 2.

Whoosh.

A morning breeze happened to blow through just then, sweeping across his whole body. Cool. He felt his mood lift on its own.

Airen moved his body with the brightest smile he'd shown since arriving at the Fencing Hall.

Whip, whip!

His fists moved far faster than before.

Whoosh!

A single stomp launched him far higher than he'd ever managed before.

Every other movement was the same.

His body moved with an ease incomparable to the day before, as if he'd been reborn, and Airen Farreira felt exhilaration, curiosity, and a faint unease all at once.

What in the world was this?

The past ten days had truly been a time of surrendering entirely to instinct.

He hadn't acted out of any certainty.

It had felt just like the first time he picked up a sword.

The way he couldn't stand it unless he swung, this time it was as if he couldn't stand it unless he ran, moved, pushed himself to the brink, a compulsion that gripped him even more fiercely than before.

Thanks to that, he'd gained far more than he'd ever imagined. But a faint unease lingered all the same.

So, in the end, he'd gotten help from the dream again, had he.

His mind clouded for a moment.

But it was only an instant. His eyes, closed briefly, opened again with life returning to them.

Let's not obsess over what can't be solved no matter how much I agonize over it.

Better to think about what he needed to do from here.

That was the precious lesson he'd learned from that dream, ten days ago.

Steeling his resolve in an instant, Airen Farreira turned around.

There, he found several figures who had followed him out of Training Room 2.

Probably the people who had watched him train all through the night.

Instructor Ahmed, Instructor Karaka, Instructor Rune Tarhall, and one elderly man whose name he didn't know.

Looking at their stiff, hardened expressions, the lazy lord asked a question.

"How many hours until the Mid-Term Evaluation, Instructor?"

"...Fifteen minutes left. That's cutting it pretty close."

"I'm not late, am I?"

"What? Ha, hahahaha!"

Airen Farreira kept talking as if nothing were wrong.

Watching him, the old man burst out laughing.

A moment later, his laughter cut off abruptly, and he spoke gravely.

"Every other trainee is in peak condition. They rested plenty, and they've had their bodies loosened up for a long while now. You, on the other hand, drove yourself into the ground right up until the evaluation, like a mindless bear."

"..."

"Still, you're not going to start whining, are you?"

"No."

"Good. Let's head to the Mid-Term Evaluation grounds."

Hall Master Ian took the lead with quick strides. Airen Farreira tilted his head for a moment before falling into step behind him.

Trailing after them, the three instructors, their faces grave the whole way, began to move as well.

At last, the Mid-Term Evaluation that would decide the fate of the prospective trainees was about to begin.

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