After confirming there were no particularly urgent matters, the two old men departed, each returning to their respective posts. One to the school, one to the farm.
Roadside Keep hadn't existed very long, yet its population continued to grow daily. Now it could even field a military force of considerable size. Thus the barracks was established.
On the training ground, soldiers focused intently on their drills, not a single person distracted by anything else. Discipline was excellent. So much so that when Levi arrived, the first to notice him was a Ranger taking a break. He saluted Levi.
With this Ranger's lead, others began to take notice.
Swish.
At a signal from a Ranger instructor, the soldiers immediately stopped their exercises and assembled, forming orderly ranks with remarkable speed, then standing chest out, heads high, eyes forward. After completing these movements, they stood motionless as stones.
Levi stepped forward.
Snap!
The soldiers nearest him immediately turned and shifted aside in unison, creating a clear path for him to pass through. Quite smooth.
As Levi continued forward, the soldiers ahead continued moving aside in formation, while those behind returned to their original positions once he passed. Through these fluid movements, Levi soon reached the front unimpeded.
Looking back, the formation remained perfectly aligned, unchanged. Observing these spirited soldiers, Levi couldn't help but nod approvingly.
"How are they?" a Ranger instructor beside him asked.
"Good. Very good." This was definitely training to elven military standards. The Rangers were truly generous. When they taught, they held nothing back.
"Glad you're satisfied. But some things can't be judged by appearances alone."
The younger of the Ranger instructors said: "Why not test these lads' skills? Several among them are particularly talented."
"Oh?" Levi's interest was piqued. He casually drew a steel sword from a nearby weapon rack: "Then let me see."
The young Ranger instructor smiled at him, turned and called out: "Who wants to spar with our legendary lord!"
Boom.
Several hundred soldiers stepped forward in unison. If even one among them had hesitated for half a second, it wouldn't have been so perfectly synchronized.
The Ranger instructor nodded, addressing the soldiers with satisfaction: "Good. Even facing an unbeatable opponent, not one of you showed cowardice. I hope when facing real enemies, you can maintain this same courage."
Hearing this, the soldiers stood even straighter. No one spoke, but clearly everyone had made their stance known.
For our lord, without question!
Though right now they seemed more eager to fight their lord.
"Don't worry," a Ranger approached Levi. "We've taught them without reservation. Each one knows at least basic combat techniques. No need to fear they can't handle it. Feel free to use your full strength."
"Mm, thank you for your efforts."
Levi nodded, though feeling slightly apprehensive himself. They've had training. I haven't!
Due to past experiences and his nature, for Levi combat had only two outcomes: life, or death. When he struck, it was to end lives. Those who could withstand it could spar with him; those who couldn't faced only one result.
Similarly, for him enemies had only two levels: those he could kill and those he couldn't.
As for technical exchanges during combat, rare, very rare. Once against a barrow-wight, once against a Balrog, but for such unconventional enemies, special powers and equipment were obviously more important.
Shaking his head, Levi sighed. Never mind, at least I have sword skills as backup. Excluding those killing moves, just dodging, parrying, and disarming should keep me undefeated.
With an attitude of 'they're my own people anyway, taking a hit or two doesn't matter,' Levi faced off against a young man reportedly the most gifted learner among this batch of recruits.
The soldier took a deep breath and bowed solemnly to Levi. From his slightly trembling arms, one could see this young man's emotions weren't calm. His eyes mixed passion, admiration, and nervousness.
"Come on." Levi spoke gently.
The young soldier charged forward, swinging his sword with all his might.
Clang!
The blade was deflected at a cunning angle, the soldier's sword arm forced aside uncontrollably, his whole body stepping back. When he regained his stance, he broke out in a cold sweat.
The lord before him still stood unmoved in the same spot, but the soldier knew he had lost. In that brief moment, if the lord had wished it, his heart would have been pierced several times over.
The soldier collected himself and continued attacking, but no matter how he fought, the conclusion remained the same. If this were a real battlefield and the lord a true enemy, he would have died thoroughly in the first exchange. No chance whatsoever.
He shook his head, conceding defeat with conviction: "I lose!"
The brief instruction ended. The Ranger instructors nodded, evaluating the young man's performance, while other soldiers mostly glanced sideways at the one who had requested guidance.
No one paid much attention to Levi, nor was anyone surprised by his effortless dominance. In everyone's view, this was normal performance, exactly as it should be. No particular reason; if pressed, they could only say: because he's Levi.
What they didn't know was that Levi himself felt surprised. Because during that instructional sparring, he hadn't used sword skills or anything else. It was purely his own honed combat techniques and instinctive habits responding.
"Right..."
Watching another soldier approach for instruction, Levi smiled. He'd been too rigid in his thinking. Combat techniques ultimately served battle, and as for fighting itself...
Consider: among all the instructors, generals, or leaders teaching combat techniques to soldiers throughout Middle-earth, which one had personally ended the lives of over ten thousand orcs? Even compared to elves, even the most warlike Wood-elves, their king Thranduil, who had lived over six thousand years, hadn't necessarily killed more orcs than Levi.
War was the best training. It was only because he'd always fought alongside battlefield veterans that Levi had felt unremarkable from beginning to end.
Never mind Gandalf and other wizards. They were all older than this continent itself. Just look at those initial dwarves: except for Kíli and Fíli, each was over two hundred years old, all veteran warriors who had killed countless orcs. Though after Erebor's fall, many had to change trades, mending pots, repairing shoes, smithing, to support their clan, there's a saying: "old swords never dull."
Then there was Halbarad, also getting on in years, a Ranger constantly on the front lines. Beyond them were later figures from the Battle of Five Armies: Bard, Thranduil, Dáin, Legolas... Each was a master, either a well-rounded warrior or someone with special talents, each capable of unique surprises.
Perhaps years ago as a newcomer, compared to them, Levi might have seemed unremarkable. But now? After great battles, everyone went about their business, staying busy or keeping watch over their domains.
Only Levi was different. His steps had never ceased, nor had his sword stopped swinging. He was no longer the rash newcomer of years past.
Splash.
Another soldier fell, admitting defeat with considerable dejection. An observing instructor sighed, helped him up, and said: "If you want your lord to take you seriously, keep working hard. At least try not to let his mind wander during your next request for guidance."
This remark brought Levi's thoughts back to the present. Oops, seems I've damaged the recruits' confidence.
"Ahem." Levi returned the steel sword to the weapon rack: "Very good. Compared to me, what you lack is simply real combat experience. You're all much stronger than I was during my first battle. I was frantic then, nearly lost my life. I believe when the day comes to truly swing swords at enemies, you'll perform even better."
These few simple words clearly lifted the soldiers' morale immediately. What was said didn't matter; what mattered was that their lord had said it.
Levi nodded, suddenly noticing a soldier staring at him intently, eyes filled with irrepressible curiosity. He immediately pointed out this soldier, asking him to speak.
"I want to know what your first enemy was like."
"Oh, that." Levi recalled briefly. "It was a barrow-wight."