"Our Esteemed Lord? Who, Me?" (4)
Baros spoke seriously to Karnak, who was awkwardly standing in his armor.
"All right, the first goal is very simple: building your stamina."
Even if you master a supreme technique, it's useless without a body that can handle it. In fact, you can't even learn it properly if your body can't keep up.
"Run along the edge of the training hall."
"That's… nothing."
Since it was an indoor training hall, the space wasn't very large.
About 20 seconds? That was enough to run a single lap.
Wearing armor definitely slowed him down.
"Huff… huff… done? What's next?"
Baros looked at Karnak, who was panting, with an expression that clearly said, What are you doing?
"Do I have to run 49 more laps?"
"Wait! You want me to run fifty laps?"
"You really thought one lap was enough?"
"How is a person supposed to run fifty laps without stopping?"
"You sure talk a lot. Now get back to running."
"Ugh…"
Karnak groaned and started running again.
He clenched his teeth and pushed through the first three laps. But his pace gradually slowed.
By the fifth lap, his vision began to yellow; the motions were closer to walking than running.
By the tenth lap, the yellow had turned pitch black.
"Ugh…"
His legs tangled, and Karnak collapsed face-first onto the floor. The clanging of armor echoed through the hall.
Bang! Crash!
"Oh dear…"
Baros covered his face, a wave of despair washing over him.
"I knew the young master lacked stamina, but not to this extent…"
A complete revision of the plan was necessary.
"Strength training will have to wait. First, we need to at least reach normal human levels of stamina."
Baros forced Karnak to his feet.
"Come on! Get up and keep running!"
"I… really can't run anymore."
"Are you giving up? Should I prepare for a midnight escape instead?"
Groaning, Karnak moved his legs again.
Baros' words were right: the current situation was far too good to give up now.
"All right! I'll run! I'll keep running!"
Ten days later, Karnak wept tears of joy.
"I-I did it!"
He had finally succeeded in running 50 laps of the training hall without stopping! Truly a remarkable improvement.
Of course, Baros had been strictly timing him.
"You didn't run continuously. The last ten laps were basically walking."
"I still didn't stop!"
"Well, fine. Good job."
Baros didn't bother to scold him further.
At this point, Karnak could truly be said to have trained sincerely.
For someone who had avoided exercise his whole life, gaining that much stamina in just ten days was no small feat.
While Karnak's effort mattered, the biggest factor was that, now wealthy, his nutrition was properly taken care of.
"Sure enough, feeding him plenty of meat and letting him sleep well builds stamina fast. So that's why rich knights were so strong."
"I'm a bit amazed myself. I remember he used to be a picky eater."
"Now, every meal is delicious for him."
Normally, overexerting the body for a short period would suppress appetite. But Karnak's appetite, infused even in his soul, surpassed the limits of his physical body.
No matter how tired he was, he ate every meal properly. If his stomach felt heavy, he even took digestive aids while continuing to chow down.
From the standpoint of nutrition, these days were exemplary in diligence.
As a result, his body improved considerably. He had gone from being a mere scarecrow to more of a "stuffed scarecrow" level.
Baros looked him over, nodding.
"Finally, he's functioning like a proper human. Now we can start real stamina training."
Karnak's expression twisted. Stamina training?
"What I've been doing until now wasn't enough?"
"Rehabilitation."
"…."
"At the very least, you should be able to move at full effort in armor for five minutes."
"I feel like I just did that, though?"
Karnak had clearly been running in armor for well over five minutes without stopping.
"You think running absentmindedly is the same as running while a blade is swinging at your face? At your current level, your legs will give out in less than thirty seconds."
Feeling more disheartened by the minute, Karnak protested.
"What, then when am I supposed to learn swordsmanship? There's barely any time left!"
There were only about twenty days until the duel.
"Which is why you need to hurry even more."
Baros, ever the loyal attendant, soothed his master while showing a wicked smile.
"All right, let's start the real stamina training!"
Karnak's daily routine was simple.
First, he would wake up and eat breakfast.
Then, he would go straight to the training hall to perform push-ups, swing heavy iron rods, do sit-ups, and so on, over and over until exhaustion.
After a break, he'd have lunch, then back to the hall again.
His days consisted only of food, rest, training, food, rest, and training.
"Huff… huff…"
Today, while swinging the heavy iron rod, Karnak glanced to the side.
A blonde youth in heavy armor was repeating the exact same motions with a greatsword.
Baros, too, needed to build his body. While training Karnak, he was simultaneously working on himself.
"Hey, Baros."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Do all knights train like this, all mindless repetition?"
Baros raised one eyebrow.
"That's not even knight training."
"Not really?"
So Karnak had been the only one working so mindlessly?
Karnak bristled at the thought.
"That's just a standard foot soldier's training course. No way knights would train that soft, right?"
"Ugh…"
Karnak slumped his shoulders, deflated.
Come to think of it, even as the Necromancer King who had conquered the world, he had never seen his knights or soldiers in training.
Which made sense. They were all skeletons, half-decayed corpses, or outright spirits—Death Knights, after all.
Baros, on the other hand, had been fighting alongside Karnak with a living body even before becoming undead. He knew at least the basics of physical conditioning.
"I'm the one doing knight training."
Even compared to Karnak, Baros' current body had changed remarkably.
He ate twice as much as Karnak and steadily built his body. Even the thickness of his forearms was on another level.
Karnak narrowed his eyes enviously.
"Your body's thickening fast? Why doesn't mine do that?"
"Right now, it's still mostly fat. Muscle doesn't form in just a few days. You need consistent training for it to turn into real muscle."
"From what I can see, you're already ridiculously thick. Is that why knights all look so bulky?"
"This is still weaker than proper knight training. It's at the level we used in our early days."
"…Are all knights monsters?"
Baros, clearly exasperated, retorted.
"You, who beheads people with animated skeletons, call others monsters?"
Even after building this much body and learning techniques, Baros was still utterly outclassed by true masters. It wasn't until he became a Death Knight through Karnak's power that he truly gained notoriety.
"Don't get distracted or rest! You only rest when I say so!"
"I can't tell who's master and who's servant anymore."
Grumbling, Karnak still followed Baros' orders diligently.
A week passed. By now, Karnak had built enough stamina to move somewhat freely even while wearing armor.
Baros nodded.
"Now it's time to begin sword training."
There were fifteen days left until the duel.
Finally, Karnak was allowed to draw a sword.
Somewhat excited, he drew the training longsword from his waist.
"So now I can swing the sword?"
"Not yet."
Karnak's immediate task with the sword was simple:
"I don't expect much. Just stand properly and hold yourself correctly."
"Is that all?"
Curious but obedient, Karnak raised the sword and assumed the stance to face an opponent.
Soon, he realized it wasn't "just that."
Even that seemingly simple posture required endless corrections and scolding.
"Your arms are shaking."
"Bend your knees more."
"Put your weight on your back foot."
"Keep your eyes on the center of the enemy."
"Relax your shoulders."
"Put more strength into the arm holding the sword."
Groaning, Karnak finally snapped.
"How am I supposed to put strength in my arm while relaxing my shoulders? Are your arm and shoulder not connected or something?"
"…Ugh, how am I supposed to explain this?"
Only after investing half a day did they barely manage to get the stance right. Even then, the moment Karnak lost focus, it fell apart.
At this rate, there was no hope of delivering a properly powerful slash.
But Baros let it slide for now.
"At your current level, even if you swing the sword with perfect form, you'd still get cut down all the same."
After all, the purpose of this training wasn't to defeat Sir Randolph.
"But if you hold this stance, at least you won't lose your head in a single blow."
Baros picked up a large wooden club and aimed it at Karnak.
"I'm going to attack. Be ready."
Eyes gleaming, Karnak tightened his grip on the sword.
"Am I supposed to counterattack?"
"A counterattack, huh…"
Baros snorted in disdain.
"You'll understand once you experience it."
In the next instant, a heavy impact slammed into Karnak's abdomen. Baros had suddenly thrust the club forward.
"Urgh!"
Even with armor on, the shock punched through and rattled his insides.
Groaning, Karnak clutched his stomach with both arms.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
"Yes!"
"That doesn't mean you can drop your guard. Get back into your stance."
Grinding his teeth, Karnak raised his sword again, eyes burning with hostility.
This time, I'll catch the opening and land a hit!
There was no opening at all.
Thud!
"Kgh!"
Struck on the shoulder, Karnak staggered back.
Baros spoke coolly.
"I told you—hold your stance."
The beating continued.
Baros showed absolutely no mercy, striking Karnak again and again, while Karnak could do nothing but take the hits.
A counterattack?
Not a chance.
Before he could even attempt anything, the follow-up blows came, cutting off every possibility in advance.
Each strike precisely targeted the shoulders, waist, knees—every source of movement—shutting them down. From the receiving end, there was truly nothing he could do.
"This is why knights can toy with ordinary people," Baros said. "It's not because knights have some extraordinary kinetic vision or reflexes that let them block or dodge everything."
Of course, those traits mattered too—but they weren't the whole story.
"They either prevent the enemy from attacking at all, or force them to attack in directions they want. That's why it looks like they're playing around. The less experience the opponent has, the easier it is."
That was why the important thing was this: even when your posture was disrupted by a blow, you had to return to it immediately.
"Then at least you can avoid the follow-up attacks. I'm certain your duel with Sir Randolph will unfold in exactly this way."
"I see."
Nodding seriously, Karnak took his stance again.
Just as he braced himself for the next follow-up—
Thud!
He got hit again.
"Hey! Even when I hold my stance, I still can't block the follow-up!"
"At your current level, that's only natural."
"You said if I kept my stance, Randolph wouldn't be able to take my head!"
"When did I say that? If he wanted to, he could cut you down anytime."
"Then what the hell is the point of this training?"
Baros grinned.
"To make sure he doesn't want to."
From what Baros had observed, Randolph had a strong tendency toward self-aggrandizement.
He was skilled enough to toy with his opponent, and with plenty of spectators watching, he wouldn't just behead someone outright.
"And there's solid evidence to back that up."
Paralt—both legs severed—was that evidence.
If Randolph had been able to cut off his head but instead chose to sever both legs—something far harder to do—it revealed his personality clearly.
"But if you completely lose your will to fight, the situation changes."
Continuing to toy with someone who had already given up would look like bullying the weak.
"That's why the former lord, far weaker than young Lord Paralt, lost his head in a single strike."
The former lord, Baron Kraput, had little aptitude for swordsmanship. As soon as he crossed blades with Randolph, he reportedly lost all will to fight.
"Toying with someone like that would only tarnish his reputation, so he sent him off honorably with one clean blow."
So Karnak's training goal was simple.
"You must look like an opponent who hasn't lost the will to fight—someone who refuses to give up to the very end. That way, he won't kill you in a single strike."