EPISODE 68

If experts from every field were to convene and debate for three days and nights on how to use twenty-four hours most efficiently, wouldn't they devise a timetable like the one for this training camp?

The training camp's schedule was so grueling it bordered on absurdity. Were it not for the occasional evening breaks, several hero disciples would have already fallen ill.

"Somehow, the day is over..." Evan murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

Charis slumped on the table and added, "Time really drags on."

"It hasn't even been a week yet?"

"No. I crave sweets," Evan groaned.

"I want meat—something fatty, generously spiced," Charis chimed in.

Evan sighed. "I'd be content with just one beer."

"I think I'm going to die. Seriously," Charis moaned.

"But you're not dead yet," I quipped, still engrossed in my book.

"Huh?" Their eyes turned toward me.

"What nonsense is he spouting now?" one of them asked.

"He's at it again," another muttered.

"Evan, aren't you going to rein in your roommate?" someone teased him.

Over the past few days, I'd grown closer to these bastards, and the filters on our words had vanished entirely.

I closed the book and patiently explained, "What nonsense? I'm saying the instructors here are remarkably competent."

They blinked at me in confusion, so I elaborated, "It feels like they're working us to death, but none of us has actually collapsed. That means they have a precise grasp of our limits. They know exactly how much they can push us and when to ease up."

"Is that so?"

"Well, it is just speculation," I said.

"Is it really speculation?"

It was speculation, but it felt almost certain. Perhaps because I'd endured something similar on Spirit Mountain, I could sense the instructors' intentions.

Just as I was about to resume reading, Evan asked, "Is the book interesting?"

"It is alright. Would you like to read it?"

"What's it about?"

"A history book. It is about the twenty-one heroes who founded the Great Families."

"Ah... No thanks," Evan replied with a smile.

I wasn't surprised. Someone from a Great Family lineage would have grown up reading about the twenty-one heroes. The same was true for me, though my memories were hazy from my time on Spirit Mountain. Reading the book felt like revisiting those blurred recollections.

"Hey, Skull is over there," someone said.

Of course, Skull wasn't his real name. The individual passing by the lounge was painfully thin, with deeply sunken eyes that made him resemble a skeleton. Someone had dubbed him Skull, and the name stuck. Rumor had it he came from a noble family, though I couldn't recall his actual surname.

"Hey! Skull!" Charis shouted, waving.

Skull flinched, glanced around, and bolted up the stairs as if fleeing.

"W-what's his problem?"

"Leave him alone. He lost points today. He'd be down even if you didn't say anything."

"Shouldn't he be angry, not depressed?"

"That's how you'd react, single-celled as you are."

"What did you say, you bastard?"

I glanced up from my book to watch Skull's retreating figure. He moved as though he were being chased, his steps hurried and awkward.

Something felt off—more than just awkward. It smelled fishy.

***

Bam!

I felt the shock on my shoulder and staggered.

The world spun momentarily, and I couldn't tell the sky from the ground. However, I couldn't afford to stay still. I forced myself to duck, narrowly avoiding the next attack. My opponent's sharp toes brushed past me, sending a shiver through my body. Every hair stood on end.

Is he slowly losing his sense of restraint? I wondered.

If that attack had landed, I'd be done for. Not that I was scared, of course. I pretended to stumble, but the moment I regained my balance, I shifted to the offensive.

The Hunting Master had restricted himself today by sealing his right leg. It was natural for me to target his right side. In fact, most would aim for his right side. But I decided to twist things.

Instead of targeting his weaker side, I deliberately struck his left, where his defenses were strongest.

Tanko didn't look surprised but was a fraction too slow to react. In that brief opening, I swung my arm like a blade and struck at his throat.

My hand connected, but it felt more like hitting a log than a neck. Bracing for the counterattack, I tightened my core just before the pain arrived.

Baaam!

The force sent me flying. For a moment, I floated, gazing at the clear night sky above the Butterfly Forest. Then, I hit the ground, rolled, and sprang to my feet.

I bowed and declared, "I lost."

Tanko studied me for a moment before speaking. "Your technique is impressive. You see through your opponent's weaknesses well."

"Thank you," I replied.

"However, your physical strength always holds you back. By the end, your movements slowed significantly."

I knew that already.

"The importance of basic physical strength can't be emphasized enough," he continued. "However, endurance can't be built overnight. Don't be conceited and keep training."

"Yes."

It wouldn't happen overnight, but in a month or so, I'd reach a level where I could fully utilize this body. The First Fire Technique had that much potential.

Tanko nodded. "You were defeated in today's spar. That's a two-point deduction, but..."

I had a rough idea of what was coming next.

"You showed grit by lasting ten minutes despite your lack of physical strength. That's an outstanding mentality. And your psychological play at the end was clever. So, you earn two extra points."

"Thank you."

As expected, my score for the day balanced out to zero. It was a pattern that had become familiar in every sparring session, so it no longer surprised me.

Once Tanko left, Charis approached and remarked, "I think the instructor really likes you."

I brushed the dirt off my body and corrected his misconception. "Not at all. He is just a Badniker."

"What do you mean by being a Badniker?"

"Dark, taciturn, sinister... It can mean many things, but in this case, it is about meritocracy."

"Hmm." For a moment, Charis wondered if I was joking, but I was serious.

"Don't you remember what happened to Hans yesterday?" I asked him.

"I do."

Yesterday, after yet another sparring session with Tanko in which I didn't seem to lose any points, Hans had suddenly declared, "I'm going to fight the instructor today!"

What was the result? He had been sent sprawling the moment the match started, breaking his arm in the process.

The onlookers had probably thought, So this is the "one move to defeat the enemy" I've only heard about.

Tanko wasn't cruel, nor did he favor me as Charis suggested. In my view, Tanko was rational and stern. When someone lacking skill challenged him, he gave them a harsh but necessary lesson.

Some people seemed to think that Tanko was showing favoritism to me.

What pathetic people, I thought.

If they were bitter about it, they should try lasting as long as I did. One thing was certain—I was the only hero disciple who could spar with Tanko at this level.

Hector, Seren, and even Charon would be utterly crushed if they faced him.

There were two reasons for this. First, most of them were unaccustomed to bare-handed sparring without relying on mana or blessings. Second, I had far more experience fighting stronger opponents than weaker ones. In fact, I had spent more time battling the strong than the weak.

Charon knows this. That's probably why he avoids it.

He was obsessive when it came to his score.

At that moment, cheers erupted from somewhere nearby.

"What's that about?" I wondered aloud.

"That's where Evan was sparring," Charis said.

We exchanged looks and headed in that direction.

As Charis had guessed, Evan was there. His opponent was Charon.

The contrast between the two was striking. Charon stood pristine, without a scratch, while Evan was disheveled, his clothes and body marked from repeatedly hitting the ground.

"What's happening here?" I asked.

"It's exactly what it looks like," Pam chimed in. "Evan can't even land a hit."

"Honestly, I didn't expect the gap to be this wide. I thought Evan was one of the best among the hero disciples."

He was among the best. The problem was that Charon wasn't on the level of a mere hero disciple.

Just then, Charon spoke. "Evan Helvin, why don't you follow the instructor's teachings?"

"What?"

"The swordsmanship you insist on is too crude." Charon's gaze flickered toward me. "Not to mention me—you won't even be able to defeat the others."

Evan fell silent.

"Let me advise you," Charon continued. "As you are now, you'll never break into the top three."

Evan's expression hardened, the words landing like a final verdict.

I observed in silence. The sparring ended predictably with Evan's defeat. Throughout the match, his sword had never even grazed Charon.

***

Finally, Saturday afternoon arrived.

The mood among the hero disciples was noticeably brighter than usual. Even I, who rarely paid attention to my surroundings, could sense the change.

This was hardly surprising. Starting today, we had a two-day weekend—though this was just a general concept, as the training camp's weekend didn't always align with traditional holidays.

During this morning's class, the Martial Arts Master announced, "Weekend classes are only in the morning. In the afternoon, there will be a rankings announcement and elective selection, but it won't take long."

"And after that?" someone asked.

"Free time, naturally," Juan replied.

"Ohh...!"

"Free time!"

The hero disciples burst into cheers at the prospect.

Evan, who remained relatively calm and unswayed by the excitement, raised a question. "What exactly are the rankings announcement and elective selection?"

"First of all, the ranking announcement will display the current points of each hero disciple, listed from first to last. You will see exactly where you stand," Juan explained.

A commotion ensued. This outburst was typical among those around the generous Juan; they wouldn't have been so loud if Tanko were here. In any case, the ranking announcement aimed to spur competition.

"Starting in the second week, we'll introduce elective courses based on your aptitudes. In short, hero disciples can take different classes simultaneously."

The thirty-nine hero disciples each possessed unique aptitudes shaped by their upbringing, martial arts training, and even their race. Although they all attended the same basic classes, their paths diverged in advanced courses.

"The rankings will be posted in the lounge on the first floor of the accommodation building. You can check them at your leisure. Make your course selections after lunch."

With that, Juan departed.

The hero disciples exchanged glances before bolting toward the accommodation building.

I brushed off the dirt and muttered, "Impatient, aren't they? I don't see the need to rush."

"Uh... yeah," Evan replied, his voice distant. He had been spacing out more often since his sparring match with Charon.

I studied him for a moment. Then, as if trying to appease me, he asked, "Aren't you curious?"

"I'm curious. However, it isn't like the rankings will disappear if we're late."

"I guess they just want to see it as soon as possible," Evan said.

"You seem pretty calm about it," I noted.

"Well... I already know everyone's points," Evan admitted.

"What? How?" I asked, surprised.

Evan smiled faintly. "The instructors have been announcing them during class. 'One additional point for so-and-so,' 'one point deduction for so-and-so...' like this. I've been keeping track."

"But what about the sparring matches?" I pressed.

Tanko's sparring class was held daily unless there was a special schedule. There had been three sessions this week. The winner gained one point in each match, while the loser lost two. Even someone as sharp as Evan couldn't possibly monitor every victory and defeat while engaged in his own fights.

"After the matches, I sit in the lounge and listen to the chatter. Most people are willing to share who won or lost if I ask," he replied.

At that moment, a chill ran down my spine as I looked at Evan. For the first time, I began to grasp why his betrayal had earned the title of "the most painful betrayal of humanity." He was precisely the kind of person you'd never want as an enemy.

"That's... impressive. Or should I say, devious?" I said.

"I will take it as a compliment. By the way, you're currently tied for 16th place," Evan added.

"I see."

"Isn't your reaction too dry?"

"I expected it to be around there. If anything, it's slightly higher than I thought," I admitted.

My performance at the training camp hadn't been exceptional. My physical stamina had always been a weakness. Even in classes where I could use mana, I deliberately relied on physical strength to maximize my training. Still, I had managed to climb the rankings by steadily accumulating points in Tanko's sparring class.

We reached the accommodation building as we were talking.

As Juan had mentioned, the hero disciples gathered around the lounge's bulletin board.

"What is this?"

"It is ridiculous."

"There must be some mistake."

I heard devastated murmurs among the hero disciples. At first glance, they looked as if they had lost their very souls.

"Why are they reacting like this?" I asked.

"Maybe the rankings are different from what they expected?" Evan suggested.

Their reactions seemed excessive for mere surprise.

"Excuse me, let me through."

I pushed my way through the crowd until I stood before the bulletin board.

When I saw the rankings, I couldn't help but exclaim, "What?!"