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Translator: M.S
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: They Will Write History
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The provocation was effective!
“Huh? This Count has no sense…”
“How’s the city supposed to function if you treat Experts like this?”
“He seems a bit immature.”
The Experts all scowled, each adding their own complaint.
As the Experts took the lead, the elite warriors stepped back, their mouths shut tight as they glared at me.
Just as expected of Roverland's warriors.
So brazen, even before the city's ruler.
But,
Do they even know who they're messing with?
“One more word.”
I lowered my voice. I hadn't shouted, but my voice, imbued with a powerful aura, resonated like a bronze bell, commanding the space.
“Just one more word.”
Silence—
It became dead silent.
They're such a wild bunch, it seems their danger sense is on par with a wild animal's.
‘Just having quick wits isn't enough…’
I was planning on making an example out of one of them…
In any case, now that I'd successfully intimidated them, it was time to give them an outlet.
Roverland's warriors were so damn unruly that if you just kept suppressing them, they'd eventually lash out, no matter who the opponent was.
I dispersed the pressure I'd been emitting and spoke in a lighter tone.
“Of course, if you have the skill, you should be hired on the spot. If you have that kind of skill, that is. Gepetto, come forward.”
“Yes, sir!”
A silver-haired youth stepped over the ruins of the lord's castle and stood beside me.
Gepetto Soroa.
Nineteen years old.
He was the younger brother of Catch Soroa, who had recently lost his motivation.
I placed a hand on the slightly blushing Gepetto's shoulder and met the eyes of the Expert-level warriors.
“This kid happens to be a mid-level Sword Expert. If any of you can defeat him, I’ll hire you on the spot, no questions asked. How about it?”
Only then did color return to their stiffly set faces.
“Whoa—so the Count does know how to do things right.”
“But isn’t this test a bit too easy? He looks young enough to be my nephew.”
We'll see. You'll find out whether it's easy or not once you experience it for yourselves.
“Count! But do I have to fight him too?”
While everyone else seemed to accept it, one warrior raised a question.
‘Ah, a high-level Expert.’
There were six high-level Experts, the most skilled warriors gathered here.
“Of course, the high-levels will fight someone else. I can’t have you losing face fighting a mid-level, can I?”
They all nodded as if in agreement... but they'd probably change their minds in a little while.
“Katrina. You take on those six.”
“Yes, sir! I’ve been waiting!”
Katrina stepped forward, her orange hair, like a lion's mane, shimmering.
As she unleashed her aura without restraint, looks of admiration appeared on the high-level warriors' faces.
“Wow... A highest-level at her age?”
“They said the new Count’s siblings were all geniuses…”
They muttered amongst themselves before asking Katrina a question.
“How will we be evaluated? Lasting more than twenty exchanges? Something like that?”
At that, Katrina let out a hearty laugh.
“I hate all that nitpicky stuff! Just… all of you, come at me! If you can beat me, all six of you pass!”
Her words made the high-level Experts' expressions twist.
“Isn’t she a little overconfident?”
“Does she think she’s Lord Jahir of a Hundred Victories or something…”
“Hey, little lady. Stop joking around and be serious. Just by looking, it seems like three of us would be enough to win, what are you talking about?”
Usually, one is considered a highest-level Expert from the moment they can draw out Aura Threads.
But even among those at the highest level, the skill gap between individuals could be immense.
An ordinary warrior who had just reached the highest level would struggle to defeat three high-level Experts at once, while a seasoned and talented one could easily take down ten.
In their eyes, Katrina looked like a greenhorn.
Thud, thud.
But Katrina paid them no mind, sauntering toward them.
Her sword was already drawn.
I'd ordered her to carry it drawn 24/7.
“Well… she’ll come to her senses after getting hit.”
“Let’s not hold back.”
Only then did the high-level Experts draw their weapons and begin to face off against Katrina.
I leisurely crossed my arms.
‘Now then, which one should I watch first?’
On one side, Gepetto was facing challengers one by one. On the other, Katrina was taking on six at once.
The outcome was obvious, but a good fight is always fun to watch.
***
The Soroa family was famous for its precise and swift swordsmanship.
Mr. Balseon once mentioned wistfully that Vanroah's greatest swift swordsman always came from the Soroa family.
Gepetto Soroa's sword was no different.
Sword strikes so fast it was hard to believe he was only a mid-level Expert.
His footwork, advancing and retreating, was as elusive as a ghost's.
And this kid.
Should I say he was strangely infatuated with himself? It had the effect of getting under people's skin.
He'd lightly dodge a challenger's sword, thrust his own like lightning, and add a comment.
“Too slow.”
Then, with an overtly bored expression, he'd say another.
“That was dull.”
The next opponent met a similar fate.
Clang!
In a single breath, he parried his opponent's sword and held his own to their neck, adding another comment.
“Too predictable.”
After about ten exchanges, he sliced off the straps of his opponent's armor and said one more thing.
“Not bad.”
That condescending tone, combined with his young age of nineteen, had a devastating effect.
The defeated warriors all trembled with shame.
“Damn it! To a mere nineteen-year-old…!”
“I want to die…”
Due to the nature of swift swordsmanship, the matches ended quickly, and warriors who didn't want to be humiliated gave up their challenges, so things wrapped up fast.
I watched the scene with satisfaction.
‘He's talented, all right.’
For warriors below a certain level, Gepetto's fast and precise swordsmanship was practically cheating.
It was difficult to even react, and even if they did, they were instantly caught up in his precise forms, losing without being able to do a thing.
Of course, against a truly seasoned and talented warrior, his relatively monotonous forms could become a weakness...
But at the very least, by overwhelming the sixty mid-level warriors gathered here, Gepetto proved his talent was real.
Meanwhile, Katrina was on a rampage.
“Number Three! I can see your feet! Number Three!”
Like a lion leaping into a flock of sheep.
Her skill at numbering each of the six high-level Experts and then beating them down one by one was incredible.
“Number One is so fucking weak a rabbit could headbutt him and shatter his ribs. Fucking weak, Number One!”
Smack! Thwack!
Even while running her mouth nonstop, she mercilessly slapped the warriors' cheeks and buttocks with the flat of her gleaming blade.
‘She's improved a lot.’
Since I started teaching my siblings ancient swordsmanship, Katrina was the second fastest to improve.
Being such a battle maniac, her understanding and experience with the sword were exceptionally high, and her immense stamina allowed for an overwhelming amount of practice. It was impossible for her not to improve.
And the person who improved even faster than Katrina was Gepetto's older brother, Catch Soroa.
‘But that kid has been looking so listless lately.’
Catch wasn't particularly talented with aura, but his rigorous fundamentals, built up from a young age, and his outstanding talent for swordsmanship allowed him to absorb ancient swordsmanship rapidly.
It seemed like he'd be able to draw out Sword Ki with just a little more effort... but he still looked anxious and drained.
While my thoughts briefly strayed, Katrina's match was racing toward its conclusion.
One of the high-level warriors, unable to take any more hits, started to flee.
Katrina's eyes went wide as she chased after him.
“Number Five! You fucking duck! A warrior running away?! You duckling!”
Spitting curses, she finally caught up and slammed the flat of her blade down on the crown of his head.
Behind him, the other warriors, already beaten unconscious, lay in a row.
And with that,
all the warriors who had opposed my methods tucked their tails between their legs.
The people of Roverland were generally rotten to the core, but at least when they were defeated in a contest of skill, they didn't complain openly.
Though I couldn't say what they did behind my back.
I looked down at the thoroughly demoralized warriors and concluded the matter.
“Now, you will move stones. If you don’t want to, leave quietly without a word. Begin!”
The warriors eyed each other for a moment.
“Ah, screw it! The pay is twelve Dalons!”
As one of them got to work, the rest swarmed toward the rubble after him.
Among the elite warriors and Experts, there were some who, unable to swallow their pride, spat on the ground and left, but…
“Damn it…”
“Me, an Expert, doing manual labor…”
“Hoo… Ancient artifacts. Ancient artifacts. I have to endure.”
A greater number of warriors ultimately began to move the stones.
That's how big and tasty the carrot I dangled was.
But,
I guarantee you…
As big as the carrot is, the process of earning it will be anything but easy.
The warriors were diligent in their own way.
They must have been suppressing their tempers and silently following my orders.
Anyone watching might have called it a miracle. Roverland warriors showing such self-control?
Warriors working steadily like ants.
It was a touching scene.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
But the magic hour finally came to an end.
“How long does this go on! Answer me, you bastard!”
It was understandable, since I hadn't announced the end of the test even as the high sun began to set.
The warriors sensed something was wrong and eventually grew furious.
“When does it end!”
“…”
“You’re not answering!?”
My subordinates assisting with the test never opened their mouths. I had strictly warned them that if they did, there would be consequences.
“Are you mute?! Why aren’t you saying anything!”
“Hey, you son of a bitch!! Get over here!”
A stream of misbehaving warriors emerged,
“Ugh! Augh!”
“Aargh! Stop! My fault!”
and they were soundly beaten by my siblings and elite warriors before being thrown out.
“Hah… I don’t know anymore.”
“Let’s just empty our minds.”
“Just one more step… Just one more step…”
The relentlessly unkind test finally ended well past midnight.
Only those who endured to the very end survived.
Out of twenty thousand total applicants,
seven thousand passed.
The first test was now over.
***
At dawn, under the bright, broken moon.
In the empty lot before the lord's castle, now cleared of rubble, the test was still in full swing.
“One!”
“Two!”
The second test Lansen had prepared was ten thousand spear thrusts.
The surviving applicants all thrust their spears in unison, following the count.
If their posture was even slightly off, a kick would fly from the side, followed by a torrent of curses.
The elite warriors and Experts, who possessed aura, could endure it, but the regular warriors could not.
They had already hit their limit long ago.
After all, they had spent the entire day moving heavy stones.
Shaking.
Their arms trembled.
Their legs vibrated.
White salt had already crusted on their clothes, and they were so drained that clear water, not sweat, trickled down their bodies.
The warriors glanced up at the ruins of the lord's castle.
They could see a man with dark blue hair standing motionless at the highest point.
They desperately wanted to ask.
‘Just how long will this go on…?’
Before they knew it, dawn was breaking. Soon, they would have been at it for a full twenty-four hours.
And still, the test showed no sign of ending.
“Where do you think you’re looking! Again! One!”
For a momentary glance away, a sharp kick landed on their shins.
“You weak bastard! We don’t need your kind! Get out! Ring that bell and get the hell out, now!”
The instructor was vicious. He'd press his mouth right up to their ear and scream.
Their heads rang.
At first, when they were moving stones, the silence was frustrating, but now, the instructors were raising absolute hell right next to them.
Dong— Dong—
Eventually, the number of applicants who couldn't take it anymore and rang the bell began to grow.
‘Ah... that bell. Please…’
The sound of the bell kept shaking their resolve.
‘Should I... quit too?’
‘I've done enough, haven't I...?’
‘So many people are giving up... It wouldn't be embarrassing to leave now, right?’
Dong— Dong—
Only the truly tenacious, or the truly desperate, could endure to the end.
9 AM.
The second test concluded.
Five thousand passed.
“It’s finally over…”
“We did it…”
The applicants collapsed from exhaustion. Then, unbelievable words reached their ears.
“After breakfast, the third test will begin!”
It's still not over?
Just how long is this going to take?!
This time, too, the instructors told them nothing.
“Ah… I can’t do it.”
It was the final blow.
Of the five thousand tenacious applicants who had survived the second test, another thousand lost heart and left in a flood.
‘He's a devil.’
‘The man who designed this test is a true devil.’
‘Count Lansen… you son of a bitch!’
Everyone seethed, glaring at Lansen, but if their eyes actually met his, they would hastily look away.
***
‘Finally, the last one.’
I looked down at the applicants who had survived until now.
The third test was a specialty evaluation.
Shield, bow, longspear, and horsemanship would all be assessed.
Someone already skilled with a shield would naturally get a high score, but so would someone who picked up a shield for the first time today and did well.
The same went for the bow, longspear, and horsemanship.
In truth, this was the core of the selection test.
‘You never know who has talent for what, so you have to evaluate everything.’
It was a necessary process to forge an army from these rootless warriors who had gathered from all over.
I had to identify each person's talents and specialties to assign them to the right unit and maximize the effectiveness of their training.
At the same time, this evaluation was also designed to wring out every last drop of the warriors' mental fortitude.
The shield training started in the morning, but by the time the archery training ended, the sun was setting. The longspear training took place in the dead of night, and the horsemanship training continued from dawn until the sun was high in the sky.
The applicants had gone through extreme training for forty-eight hours without a wink of sleep.
The elite warriors and Experts could endure it thanks to their aura... but even they were so mentally exhausted that many gave up.
And so, after forty-eight hours had passed.
I stood before the completely drained applicants.
They all looked up at me pitifully.
‘Don't tell me... there's more?’
‘Shit... I can't give up after coming this far. I'd rather just die.’
Their initial arrogant and flippant gazes were nowhere to be seen.
In their place was a sharp venom, shining through their pitiable and desperate expressions.
A smile crept onto my face.
This was it.
Isn't this one of the most thrilling moments for a commander?
“Good work.”
The infinite sense of power that came from being able to say the words they all longed to hear!
“Current headcount: 3,426. You all pass. Thank you… for sticking with it.”
Silence. Then, a few sniffles.
And after that, a thunderous roar.
“Uwaaaaaaaah! Uwaaaaaaaah!”
“Guaaaaaaaah! Keuheuaaaaaah!”
There were no words. Only screams filled the air.
Even the once-haughty Experts were hugging the regular warriors and screaming their lungs out.
‘I finally picked them out.’
Thirty-four hundred out of twenty thousand.
Some might think that's too few... but I think differently.
Because they are the chosen few,
they will be able to write history,
I am certain.
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