WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 16

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Mid-Term Evaluation (1)

Early morning.

The great training grounds of Krono Fencing Hall buzzed with people.

The reason, of course, was the Mid-Term Evaluation.

A test that decided the fate of prospective trainees couldn't be run halfheartedly. So the Fencing Hall had hired extra hands to help manage things.

One of them, a bald mercenary, let out a long yawn and spoke.

"Well, would you look at that. Never thought I'd live to see the day I'd be helping run a physical test for a bunch of brats."

"Tell me about it. Decent way to make a little extra, though. Safe work, and the pay's not bad either."

The one who answered shared much the same thought.

He'd worked test support for the mercenary brokerage before, but the people who took those tests were all adults.

The ones they'd be supervising now were kids, maybe twelve or thirteen years old.

No matter how famous Krono Fencing Hall was, it was hard not to feel a little underwhelmed going in.

I'm not planning to slack off, but if there's nothing worth watching, this is going to be a long, boring day.

Still, better than a bunch of ordinary brats, right? Hopefully.

While the two burly men, and the rest of the mercenaries, were thinking along similar lines,

the trainees began gathering, one by one, for the Mid-Term Evaluation.

"Whew."

"I can do this. I can do this."

"Guess I should loosen up a bit..."

The trainees who arrived closed their eyes to run through mental rehearsals or mutter self-affirmations. A few stretched lightly.

But those unremarkable movements didn't look unremarkable to the outsiders watching.

The bald mercenary swallowed hard as he watched the kids.

...This is what the average movement of a kid under thirteen looks like?

It didn't make sense.

The level was absurd.

Take away the faces and the small height, and you'd believe these were adults, no, you'd believe they were something beyond that.

Some of the kids were pulling off movements sharp enough to work as mercenaries themselves, no questions asked.

The colleague watching beside him muttered without meaning to.

"Is this a monster convention or something..."

"...Yeah."

None of them could look down on the prospective trainees anymore.

The honed bodies they hadn't noticed before, and the heavy, serious atmosphere thick enough to feel like the moment before a war.

This was nowhere close to children playing pretend.

The mercenaries, freshly reminded of just how formidable Krono Fencing Hall really was, held their breath.

Among them, the trainees quietly sharpened their own edges.

But not every test taker had their focus locked only on themselves.

"..."

"Why isn't he here yet?"

The top tier.

No, calling them the top tier didn't even do them justice. The elite of the elite.

The true talents who could clear even this Mid-Term Evaluation, infamous for being the hardest in the hall's history, without much trouble, found themselves unable to focus on the coming test. They kept glancing around instead.

The people who should have been there, Instructor Ahmed and Instructor Karaka, the ones in overall charge of the Mid-Term Evaluation, were nowhere to be seen.

And on top of that.

That guy's not here either.

...What in the world is he doing? The evaluation's about to start.

The one who, at first, no one had expected anything from.

But somewhere along the way, the one who kept catching their eye, the strange, odd one who nagged at their attention despite his skill.

Airen Farreira. He hadn't shown up either.

Brett Lloyd, Judith, even Illia Lindsay, who rarely cared about other people, all felt a flicker of confusion at that fact.

That was when it happened.

A commotion rose from one corner of the training grounds.

Sensing the instructors' arrival, the prospective trainees turned their heads. Then their expressions shifted into confusion.

"..."

"Wait. He didn't even change his clothes."

"No way..."

"All night... the whole time?"

The kids couldn't shake their suspicious looks.

It made sense.

It defied common sense.

Some idiot pushing his body to the brink all night, right before an important Physical Ability Test? Who did that?

A few even thought the lazy lord was putting on a show to mess with them.

But that wasn't it. Everyone realized it soon enough.

Soaked clothes, sure, that could be faked. But the white salt crusted on his face couldn't be staged.

What it meant was clear.

Airen Farreira really had kept training the entire night without stopping.

And from the look of things, the instructors had discovered him too late and had to physically stop him and drag him over to the test grounds.

Just as the trainees were about to trade their own theories about it,

the old man standing quietly beside Instructor Ahmed moved.

Whoosh.

Thud.

He cleared several dozen meters in a single bound, and most of the kids' jaws dropped.

The sharp-eyed kids who already knew who he was, along with the hired mercenaries, nodded silently.

A moment later, the man who stood on the platform, the Inspection Hall Master of Krono himself, Ian, opened his mouth.

"Hm, how should I introduce myself? Ahem, well, let's keep it simple. Most of you probably already know, but this old man here is the Inspection Hall Master of Krono."

"...!"

"...!"

"Let's see, time's at... about five minutes left. You've all had the rules drilled into your heads by now, so I don't think there's much more to say. Use the time you've got left to get ready, however you see fit. Make sure you leave with no regrets. I've got more I could say, but it'd just get in the way, so I'll stop here."

Clap.

Ian finished speaking and clapped his hands.

The kids, having just weathered one shock after another, snapped back to attention.

Right, what mattered right now was the Mid-Term Evaluation, not all these little distractions. The trainees steadied themselves once more and swallowed hard.

Four minutes.

Three minutes.

Two minutes, then one.

A few seconds before the announced time arrived, Instructor Ahmed's voice rang out.

"All right, the Mid-Term Evaluation starts now!"

With a voice as loud as thunder, the Mid-Term Evaluation of Krono Fencing Hall began.

* * *

"Whew, whew."

Standing before the mercenary acting as his proctor, Airen Farreira let out a short breath. He moved quickly, gripping the barbell loaded with heavy plates on either end.

Then he began the push press, one of the evaluation exercises.

"Hup, hup!"

Unlike a standard press that used only upper body strength, this exercise demanded leg power, body elasticity, and explosive force. After doing this motion countless times over the past four months, there was no awkwardness to it at all.

But right now, Airen was feeling something more than that.

It's light!

His body felt light. The barbell felt light. The plates on either end felt like less than half their actual weight.

He was even repeating the motion faster than usual. And yet his body wasn't straining at all.

He hesitated for a moment. He'd pushed himself through a brutal training session all night. Wasn't there a risk of overdoing it here?

No. That wasn't it.

Once he'd settled the thought, Airen Farreira picked up the pace even more.

Surprise flickered across the proctor's face.

"Hup, hup, huh!"

He quickly finished his reps and set the barbell down. Then he stepped up to the rectangular box.

Box jump. A simple movement, but not an easy one once you factored in the height and the time limit.

Yet he felt no strain at all.

Airen tensed his legs, hopped up lightly, and came back down.

He repeated it at a ferocious pace.

"What the hell is that guy doing?"

"Crazy bastard, he's not even going to finish at that rate."

The jeers from the trainees around him landed square in his ears. The lazy lord paid them no mind either way.

If anything, he finished the set even faster, blazed through the next exercise in no time, and returned to the barbell once more.

Then he began repeating everything he'd just done.

Faster. Steadier.

The proctor watching him showed an even bigger shift in expression.

Airen understood exactly how the man felt.

I'm surprised too.

He'd already realized, the night before, that something had changed in his body.

But he hadn't expected it to be this much. Even pushing far past his usual pace, faster and faster, he never felt like he was overdoing it.

If anything, it seemed like he could push even harder without any risk to finishing.

No, he had to push harder.

A thought even stronger than before. A certainty took hold and pulled him forward.

Airen picked up the pace again, driving through the repetitions at a terrifying speed.

The murmuring around him grew louder in response.

"What the hell is wrong with that guy?"

"Is he trying to pass out?"

"Huh..."

"Crazy bastard! Absolute lunatic!"

More and more of the kids started talking about him, staring at him. He tried to ignore it, same as always.

He tried to focus only on his own task and let the noise around him pass through one ear and out the other.

But he couldn't.

A realization had struck him without warning.

Other changes taking hold in him were leading the lazy lord toward a new thought.

Could I always hear the voices around me when I was this focused on something?

No, he couldn't.

Even though he'd entered Krono Fencing Hall to "grow" this time, unlike before, almost nothing had really changed inside him.

To keep from being wounded by the mockery constantly aimed at his own glaring inadequacy, Airen had kept forcing himself to shut out the outside world, training in isolation.

Just as he'd once hidden from the world through sleep, and escaped the whispers around him by picking up a sword.

But not now.

"Damn it, he's overdoing it, right? He has to be."

"He's going to fail anyway. Don't bother with him. Tune him out."

His ears, wide open, took in every sharp word around him without filtering any of it.

"Whew, whew."

"...!"

His clear, open vision took in every face of the trainees quietly glaring at him, and the proctor's expression, frozen stiff.

Those harsh, painful, uncomfortable reactions, Airen found he could bear them without difficulty.

He no longer cared how people around him reacted.

Which meant he no longer needed to force his eyes and ears shut.

For the first time in his life, the eldest son of House Farreira felt a clean, open feeling in his chest, like something had finally cleared out.

"Hup, hup, hup..."

Faster. Even faster. His pace climbed to a level beyond comparison with most of the other kids.

Fast enough that even Brett Lloyd, one of the top trainees nearby, couldn't keep up.

After a little while passed like that, the murmuring around him began to quiet down instead.

Only gazes thick with envy and shock kept pouring out, stronger than ever.

One minute later.

Airen Farreira finished every repetition and cleared the first course.

He faced forward, preparing for the second course, the sand track run.

Ahead of him, only one person was running, alone. Illia Lindsay.

The lazy lord nodded and kicked off the ground with all his strength.

Watching this, a voice unbecoming of a young girl tore out of Judith's mouth.

"You son of a biiiiiiiiitch!"

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