WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Asakusa

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Veteran of the Northern Front ◈

Chapter 7: First Spar

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The attack at the 8th Guard Post had a major effect on the unit.

The soldiers had experienced firsthand that the training they had carried out on nothing more than vague faith was genuinely helpful in real combat.

The fact that there had not been a single death, or even a serious injury, in their clash with the barbarians also played a large part.

“Hey, Max, I heard about it. You got into a fight with those barbarians at the watchpost?”

“Is it true nobody died?”

After Ubel's ten-person squad returned to the unit, the penal soldiers who heard of the battle at the watchpost sought out Max, the squad's most senior veteran, to confirm the story.

Max confidently thumped his chest as he looked at them.

“Why would it be a lie? Look. All our people are perfectly fine.”

“I, it really happened.”

The penal soldiers stared wide-eyed after confirming that every member of the squad was unharmed.

“Hey, tell us the details.”

“What exactly happened?”

“It was nothing much. We trained hard for a while after Lord Ubel arrived, right? We followed Lord Ubel's instructions just like we were trained, and bam! Huh?! We formed up and...”

His gestures and tone were exaggerated.

If anything, that made the story more vivid.

Even with the advantage of terrain, it was difficult for penal soldiers alone to face an equal number of barbarians.

They marveled at the squad's feat of driving off the barbarians without a single casualty. When Max said Ubel had split a barbarian at the waist with one blow, they could hardly believe it.

“Does that even make sense?”

“Yeah. It's not like they're some knight.”

“How can someone cut another person in half with one strike?”

“Ha! You bastards still don't know what Lord Ubel is like. They're a penal soldier now, but they were originally a noble, a noble! Who knows whether they received knight training while living with a noble house?!”

The rumor that Ubel was a noble was already well known among the penal soldiers.

“Ugh, well, just looking at him, he doesn't seem like an ordinary noble...”

“If he received knight training, it isn't impossible.”

“Damn it, Max. I'm dying of jealousy.”

“If it had been our captain, he would have run away without looking back the moment he saw the barbarians, let alone fought alongside us.”

Most squad commanders were among the most senior penal soldiers. With little of their service remaining, they were obsessed with doing whatever it took to stay alive.

Unlike their own superiors, the penal soldiers respected Ubel's exceptional combat ability and command skill. They envied the soldiers serving under him.

This was the Northern Front, where a soldier's chance of survival was determined by their superior's ability.

“By the way, where did Lord Ubel go?”

“Regular soldiers came earlier and took him away. Maybe Lord Berun summoned him?”

“The centurion? What for?”

“How should I know?”

Being summoned by a superior was usually not a good thing, but Max was not worried.

Berun was renowned throughout the unit for being fair and impartial. If he had called in someone who had driven off barbarians without a single casualty, it could only be good news.

*****

At that moment, inside Berun's tent.

“I heard what happened at the 8th Guard Post.”

After taking a sip of tea, he asked me, “I heard there were quite a few barbarians for a ten-person squad to face. Are the soldiers all right?”

“Yes. They only suffered minor scrapes. Everyone is safe.”

“That is fortunate. Is there anything that needs to be done?”

“Four shields and two spears broke, so we need replacements.”

The poor quality of equipment issued to penal soldiers was already widely known throughout the Imperial Army, so Berun simply nodded.

“Along with weapons, tell the supply corps if there is anything you need among the goods captured this time. I will speak to the supply officer myself.”

“Thank you!”

Normally, captured goods belonged to the soldiers, but that did not apply to penal soldiers. Berun was willingly letting us have even those.

'I had my eye on the hand axes and great axes the barbarians used, so this works out well.'

As I thanked him repeatedly, pleased by Berun's consideration, he looked at me with an odd expression.

“Hmm. Is there anything else you want?”

“Pardon?”

“Barbarians attacking while a watchpost is being guarded is common enough, but driving them off without even one injury is unusual. I intend to reward you, so tell me what you want.”

Was he trying to raise the soldiers' morale by using this incident?

Judging by Berun's expression, that seemed likely.

There was nothing for me to lose. I briefly considered what I should request.

'I can solve matters like supplies through Mac.'

Penal soldiers had no such thing as leave, so that was out.

That left exemption from duty.

In this case, though, it would be a loss instead.

Missing duty meant fewer chances to build up merit.

'Instead...'

I gathered my thoughts and spoke with determination.

“Then please forgive my boldness. I would like you to assign me and my soldiers to more missions.”

“...You want to be assigned missions?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I want to build up merit.”

There were ways to make up a suitable excuse, but I decided not to.

Sometimes, an incomplete truth was more convincing than a clumsy lie.

Sure enough,

“I see. I did not know you intended to make a career in the military. That is welcome news for the unit.”

Berun took my words about building merit to mean that I wanted to remain in the army.

I had barely retained my noble status after being cast out by my family. He must have thought that, since there was nothing I could do even if I left this place, joining the Imperial Army was my best option.

'My actual goal is to receive a pardon and escape, but...'

I had merely not told him my final goal.

I had not lied, so there was no need to feel guilty.

“Very well. As you wish, I will give your squad priority when assigning missions.”

“Thank you.”

“I feel as though I am only making you suffer, yet receiving thanks for it.”

Unlike before, Berun looked at me kindly.

Perhaps I reminded him of a junior striving for a future in the military, just as he had.

“Right. Is there anything else you wish to ask of me?”

There was something, though.

Could I really ask for it?

'Ah, whatever.'

I had nothing to lose, so I decided to simply ask.

“If it would not be improper, I would like to receive instruction from you, Lord Berun.”

“From me?”

“Yes.”

Naturally, I was not accustomed to fighting with bladed weapons in this world.

'Hand-to-hand combat or dagger techniques would be one thing, but...'

When would I ever have needed to use a spear or longsword in my life?

Even if I possessed strength beyond human limits, I would quickly reach a limit with that alone.

Among the characters in the game, and among this world's heroes, there were people who truly deserved to be called monsters.

'I need to become accustomed to facing cold weapons for the future.'

Perhaps sensing the eagerness in my eyes, Berun rose with a pleased expression.

Scrape.

“I am not skilled enough to teach anyone, but I can indulge you in a simple spar.”

“A spar?”

Why did it suddenly have to be a spar?

What I wanted was advice on weapon techniques and ways to counter them, not a sparring match.

What soldier could trade blows with their superior?

In my previous life, it would have been like a company commander asking an ordinary squad commander to spar.

I wanted to refuse, but judging by his expression, he had already made up his mind.

“Since the subject has come up, let us go now.”

“...Yes, understood.”

“Follow me.”

Berun led me to the training ground behind the tent and handed me a wooden sword.

“Let us see your ability first.”

“Well, um...”

“What is it? Are you not confident?”

I could not exactly tell him that he might get hurt.

'I don't know how skilled Berun is, but I can hold back enough.'

Having finished my calculations, I kicked off the ground.

I had never learned proper swordsmanship, much less attended a kendo school, so my stance was a mess. Still, the power behind my wooden sword was no joke.

“Oh?”

Smack!

“As expected, your strength is extraordinary. However...”

As he stepped back and tilted his sword,

“...it is crude.”

My wooden sword slid downward as though it had slipped.

He had smoothly redirected my attack by using my own strength against me.

'What...?'

Before I could even marvel at it, Berun's sword came slashing in viciously.

Using instinct and quick reflexes, I barely avoided the strike aimed at my side.

'It looks like I was not in a position to hold back after all.'

The threatening assault made every hair on my body stand on end.

Berun Colter.

I had underestimated him because his was not a name I remembered from the game.

Contrary to my expectations, he was highly skilled.

If this continued, it was obvious I would be defeated before I could do anything. I decided to take the spar seriously.

Creak.

Muscles that could have been called weapons of war flexed, and Berun gave a faint smile.

“Heh. Are you finally going to give it your all?”

“I am merely doing my best because I must learn as much as I can.”

“An admirable attitude.”

With those words, Berun rushed at me again.

His sword strikes came in rapid succession.

It was like watching a bird dart about wildly as it attacked.

'My strength is superior, but Berun is ahead in technique and agility.'

Of course, that did not mean I was being completely overwhelmed.

I had a special weapon that he did not know about.

When Berun's sword thrust toward my shoulder, I evaded it at the right moment. I trapped his wrist under my armpit, then threaded my hand through the crook of his elbow to disable one arm.

A one-handed armlock used in standing combat.

It was not a submission hold, but a technique meant to create an opening in an opponent's defense.

Berun could not hide the surprise on his face when his sword arm was disabled in an instant.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I hooked my leg behind his and shoved him with my shoulder, upsetting his balance.

'I meant to knock him all the way to the ground, and he held that?'

His athletic ability was truly remarkable.

Still, his posture was completely broken.

Wanting to end the spar, I brought down my wooden sword with all my strength.

Whoosh!

Even in that situation, Berun somehow tried to raise his sword to block. But my monstrous strength was not something he could receive in such an awkward posture.

Crack.

When our swords collided, a crack appeared in Berun's wooden sword.

Seeing it, I cheered inwardly.

'I won.'

However, it took only one or two seconds for that cheer to become a groan.

0.5 seconds.

When his wooden sword showed signs of breaking, Berun boldly abandoned it.

1 second.

He drove his body into my completely exposed abdomen.

1.5 seconds.

An ominous impact pushed me backward and knocked me down.

I had been overpowered in a grapple by someone who was at least three weight classes lighter than me.

Wondering what on earth had happened, I stared at him blankly.

That was when I noticed the change.

Something like a faint heat haze had gathered around Berun's body.

'Could that be...'

Mana.

A mystery that had not existed in my previous life.

Incredibly, Berun had awakened mana.

Mana existed everywhere like air, but only a select few with talent could sense and control it.

In the Empire, those who awakened mana were called mana users, or knight-class combatants.

Simply sensing mana granted strength beyond that of ordinary people. Aura, refined from mana, could cut even steel.

'That is why knight was both a position and a measure of strength in the game.'

Troop numbers, troop quality, and the number of knight-class combatants were important criteria for comparing allied and enemy strength in the game.

A knight's realm was broadly divided into six stages.

Those who awakened mana were beginners.

Those who refined mana into aura were lower-rank knights.

Those who could imbue weapons with aura were intermediate-rank knights.

Those who could create sword energy called an Aura Sword were advanced-rank knights.

Those who could send sword energy through the air were highest-rank knights.

Finally, there were Masters, who had reached the pinnacle and could freely reshape sword energy into any form they desired.

Of course, even a Master could not do something like slaughter tens of thousands alone and smash down castle walls as they did in novels.

Still,

even an intermediate-rank knight who could imbue a weapon with aura could take a person's head as readily as pulling silver coins from a pocket.

'Not only did I try to beat a knight-class combatant, I even thought about holding back...'

Now that I understood reality, embarrassment came rushing in belatedly.

I wanted to crawl into a hole.

I sat on the ground for a moment to forget my embarrassment when Berun asked me urgently,

“Ubel, are you all right?”

“...Lord Berun, are you a mana user?”

When I looked at him as though asking why he had hidden it, he scratched his head with a guilty expression.

“Ahem! I apologize for using mana during the spar. I lost control of my strength without realizing it... Are you injured anywhere?”

“I am naturally quite sturdy, so I am fine.”

“That is a relief.”

“Then can every centurion use mana?”

“Not all of them. I have not checked closely myself, but I hear only a few centurions serving at the front have awakened mana.”

“I see.”

It meant that not all centurions were like that. Berun was exceptionally strong.

'Whew. In any case, that woke me up.'

After taking such a beating from Berun, I realized how complacent I had become.

Things had gone too smoothly, and I had dealt with the barbarians too easily. Without realizing it, I had become arrogant.

'Reflect on this.'

I reprimanded myself for taking this world too lightly and firmed my resolve.

“Thank you for your guidance. If it is all right with you, may I ask for sparring like this in the future as well?”

“If you are all right with it.”

“Thank you.”

It would be rude to keep a busy person occupied for too long, so I decided to take my leave.

“Then I will be going.”

“Very well.”

“Sir!”

Though it had been an overwhelming defeat with no room for excuses, it was not meaningless.

'It may be difficult for now, but someday, I will...'

As I reflected on my spar with Berun, I considered the path I needed to take.

*****

Meanwhile, after Ubel left, Berun remained alone at the training ground, staring at the place he had departed from with a serious expression.

'What was that strength...?'

He had not had the slightest intention of using mana during the spar.

But the moment Ubel brought down his sword, he felt danger without realizing it and instinctively used mana.

More surprising still was that Ubel had taken an attack imbued with mana head-on and risen without harm.

'If that spar had been a real battle, and Ubel had used a blunt weapon suited to him...'

The thought that he might have lost would not leave his mind.

'Does that make any sense?'

It was common sense that someone who had not yet awakened mana could not defeat a mana user.

'The only possibility is...'

Bloodline.

There was no other explanation.

In this world, some people possessed unusual bloodlines that allowed them to display strength beyond common sense.

'Could Ubel be like “that person” as well...?'

He would need to investigate that separately.

'Whew. More importantly, an incredible one has joined us.'

The strange techniques Ubel had displayed. He did not know whether they were secret arts of Ubel's family or techniques Ubel had invented, but they were extremely troublesome to face.

For now, Ubel's understanding of weapon techniques was shallow enough that he could manage somehow.

'But if he gradually adapts to weapon techniques and learns a combat style suited to him...'

Ubel would become a monster beyond imagination.

'Talent truly is unfair, now as ever.'

Even so, he did not feel jealous.

It was something to be happy about that a junior seeking a future in the military possessed such outstanding ability.

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