'Tired. Sleepy.'
Haviel, lounging in the armchair, grimaced and tossed and turned.
It was annoying.
Of course it was.
During the day, he had to escort the scoundrel young master.
At night, he suffered from insomnia every single day.
And in between, he never skipped his swordsmanship training, so of course he was exhausted.
No, it was practically a miracle.
'Still, today I slept a bit more than usual, huh.'
For some reason, it felt like he'd kept his eyes shut longer than normal.
That thought brought a satisfied smile to his face.
But Haviel's smile didn't last long.
"...Hey, get up already?"
A mocking voice reached his ears.
A sly tone laced with a hint of amusement.
'A dream?'
No, it couldn't be a dream.
He hadn't dreamed in years.
It was probably just hallucinations from lack of sleep.
Haviel rolled over to the other side.
But even that didn't stop the urging voice from coming again.
"You're late. Time to get up, you sleepyhead."
...What?
Not a hallucination.
The voice was clearly coming from right beside him.
'Me, a sleepyhead? What the hell?'
His mind snapped awake amid the daze.
He'd been suffering from insomnia for years.
He was hardly the type to be called a sleepyhead by anyone.
On top of that, his senses were sharper than anyone's.
And yet someone had approached him without him noticing and started talking?
Haviel's eyes flew open.
He whipped his head around.
His whole body froze stiff without him realizing it.
"You're up. If I hadn't woken you, you'd have slept till the sun was right over your head."
"..."
A black-haired young man stood beside the resting armchair.
Probably in his mid-twenties now.
His face was full of mischief.
He looked downright devilish, like a brat who'd found a fancy new toy.
"Lloyd... sir?"
Haviel muttered without thinking.
No doubt about it.
The man he was assigned to protect.
The headache of the territory, the scoundrel young master.
Lately, for some reason, he'd started acting bizarre.
Even that smirk with just one corner of his mouth pulled up was annoyingly punchable.
"Finally recognizing this great me, huh? I'm just so honored."
"..."
He didn't look honored at all, judging by his expression.
"But why is Young Master Lloyd here waking me up...?"
Haviel trailed off without finishing.
He was confused.
This situation felt utterly foreign.
'Why is that guy waking me up?'
It had never happened before.
It seemed utterly impossible.
The one who always overslept was the scoundrel Lloyd.
Waking that guy up every morning was the first task of his day.
So why was that guy's smirk growing even thicker as it aimed at him?
"Why? Because you fell asleep here."
"Me? Here?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Don't you remember? What happened last night?"
"Last night, I..."
"You passed out cold. Slept like a log? You were snoring up a storm, and later even grinding your teeth. Full-on surround sound Dolby orchestra going on."
"..."
"Yeah, I get it. Reinforced concrete lectures are a bit much. Even I was nodding off while making you memorize it last night."
...I have no idea what he's talking about.
No memory at all.
For real.
He'd just entrusted his body to this chair.
But his head felt clearer now.
Did I actually get a good night's sleep?
It felt a little strange, almost wondrous.
"Tsk. Still out of it, huh? Here, drink this and snap out of it."
"..."
The scoundrel young master held out a cup.
Clear, cold water sloshed inside.
He downed it in one go while checking his body's condition.
He clenched his fist.
A vitality he'd never felt before surged through him.
A refreshing energy raced through the veins in his tightly gripped fist.
It was on a whole different level from the constant sleep deprivation he'd endured.
'This is incredible.'
Did I really get deep sleep?
Overcoming that hellish insomnia?
Haviel accepted this reality in his own way.
The body doesn't lie.
As a skilled swordsman, he decided to fully trust the truth his senses told him.
But then something caught his eye.
"What's that?"
Haviel's gaze turned to Lloyd.
More precisely, to Lloyd's waist.
Right there at the waist of the Lloyd standing before him.
A wooden practice sword hung from it.
And that wasn't all.
Lloyd's outfit was different from usual too.
Over his regular clothes, he wore light, sturdy leather armor.
Leather guards were strapped to his elbows and knees.
He even had a towel draped around his neck for wiping sweat.
It looked seriously committed(?), somehow.
'No way.'
Haviel unconsciously drew in a sharp breath.
Something was starting to dawn on him.
The answer came from Lloyd.
"Forgot already? I said I'd teach you swordsmanship if I fixed your insomnia."
"..."
A perfectly matter-of-fact response.
It suddenly brought it all back.
Last night, he'd accepted Lloyd's proposal.
It was a kind of bet.
If Lloyd succeeded in curing his insomnia?
If he managed to fall into a deep sleep?
He'd promised to teach that scoundrel young master swordsmanship.
That was Lloyd's offer from last night, which he'd agreed to.
'So now I have to teach swordsmanship to that scoundrel? Me?'
The insomnia that had tormented him for so long.
Even the joy of overcoming it and getting real sleep faded quickly.
This was bad. Really bad.
♣
"Then let's start with running."
This was the sunlit training ground.
Haviel spoke from one side.
"Please stand over here."
"..."
"Good. Now, Lord Lloyd, you'll run along the edge of the training ground. Any questions?"
"Nope, none."
"..."
"Just run when you say run, right?"
"..."
"No way you're prepping some grand speech deep down, are you?"
"Grand speech? What do you mean?"
"Acting all innocent. You know, the type where you put on this strict, solemn, serious face and go, 'Running is the foundation of all training. Powerful swordsmanship and flashy techniques all require solid stamina to back them up, blah blah blah, yadda yadda...' setting the mood before you start."
"..."
Haviel, caught off guard, shut his mouth.
Lloyd shrugged.
"So you imagined me going, 'I hate that stuff, teach me powerful swordsmanship!' in rebellion, and you coolly retorting, 'You're the one who begged me to teach you swordsmanship, Lord Lloyd,' before making me run? Something like that?"
"..."
"Nailed it, huh."
"..."
"Sheesh. Not a kid anymore. Tsk. Alright, here I go."
Tap, tap, tap.
Lloyd started running.
Left at the starting line, Haviel unconsciously furrowed his brow.
'I thought he'd whine he couldn't run or something.'
Lloyd's reaction was way off from what he'd expected.
Far more composed than anticipated.
'But if I make him keep going, his true colors will show.'
That's what Haviel thought.
Everyone was like that.
Before starting something, when the body's still fresh, they act all gung-ho.
They show confidence like any goal is a piece of cake.
But when the tough moments hit?
When body and mind hit their limits?
That initial bravado vanishes like a lie.
They struggle to compromise with their inner self screaming in agony.
Like people three days into a diet.
Or smokers a day after quitting.
Revealing their weak true nature.
'Lloyd Frontera. You'll be the same.'
The scoundrel he knew was especially like that.
He'd never experienced this kind of forced running in his life.
So if he kept circling the training ground until he was gasping for air?
'He'll regret this bravado. Might even yell he quits swordsmanship training altogether.'
Honestly, he hoped so.
He didn't want to teach swordsmanship to that scoundrel.
He had no faith in him.
The guy lived sunk in booze every day.
Causing all sorts of trouble whenever he did.
Teaching swordsmanship to someone like that?
Just imagining the accidents he'd cause with the techniques he taught made him dizzy.
'I can't allow that.'
Of course, lately the scoundrel had shown some changes.
But people's true nature doesn't change easily.
The young master would be the same.
Who knew when his old bad habits would rear their head again, starting today?
'So I'll treat you as harshly as possible. Until you drop out yourself. Or prove yourself worthy by enduring it.'
Haviel steeled his resolve.
He stared at Lloyd with cold eyes.
Waiting for the moment the scoundrel cried out in surrender.
But things didn't unfold as he'd imagined.
"Huff, pant! Huff!"
Thud, thud, thud!
Lloyd kept running.
Just silently running.
Ten laps, twenty, thirty, and beyond.
He passed in front of Haviel dozens of times circling the training ground.
Not a single word from him the whole time.
Even as ragged breaths poured out,
Even as sweat soaked him head to toe.
Even as his weary legs shook.
Without rest, silently, at a steady pace, he just ran.
'How?'
At first, subtly.
Later, outright.
Haviel's eyes wavered.
It was an incomprehensible mental fortitude.
A tenacity from some unfathomable source.
Of course, the secret to Lloyd's grit was simple.
'I've been through shit way tougher than this running countless times!'
And it was true.
In the military, marches and night ops had beaten this level of hardship into the ground.
After losing his parents, hopping jobs and part-time gigs, it was even worse.
'You ever hauled bricks up and down a four-story villa all day? Or unloaded delivery trucks till morning?'
Only those who've done it know the misery.
The feeling of your body turning into a forced machine part.
Endlessly wearing down until it feels like your muscles will disintegrate.
'Even as your breath hits your throat, you cling to hope and check the clock. Almost done, right? Just a bit more and rest. But reality? Hell no. Total shitshow. Not even half the time's passed! Compared to that despair, forcing yourself to keep moving just to earn a buck, this running is straight-up paradise!'
In Korea, that was daily life.
Living in that hopelessness every day.
The dizzying despair of wondering how long it'd go on.
Yet you couldn't give up if you wanted to eat.
To scrape together a few bucks.
To survive.
Always pushing past your limits.
No, dragging on like a zombie without a soul even after breaking them.
That was the only way not to starve.
But now?
'All I have to do is run.'
Not like a slave forced to move.
He was running because he wanted to, to learn swordsmanship.
Sure, his body hurt.
But it was fun.
He was happy.
Even as his breath reached his throat.
Even as sweat drenched him.
Even as his legs went limp and wobbly.
Even if his vision turned yellow now and then.
'Still good.'
Lloyd kept running.
And well past the fiftieth lap, as he passed Haviel, he even flashed a grin.
"Huff, pant, huff! I'm the one running, pant, so why do you look like you ate shit?"
"..."
"Hoo, haa, didn't expect this, huh?"
"..."
"Then keep standing there, hoo, all dumbfounded?"
"..."
Lloyd kept going after that too.
Even until Haviel, fed up, finally called a halt.
"Lord Lloyd, stop running."
"Huff, pant, why?"
"You're already wobbling."
"I know, hoo, haa, that."
"So take a break."
"Hoo, got it."
Lloyd's run came to a stop for the first time.
"Feeling thrown off?"
"No."
"You are. Totally are."
"..."
"Hooo. Yeah, you didn't see this coming. Probably just prepped lines like 'I'm disappointed in your weak will, Lord Lloyd' or 'Keep running till I say stop.' Right?"
"..."
"Like I said before, hoo, you judge people with prejudices?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did my request to teach me swordsmanship feel like a joke to you?"
"..."
Haviel was at a loss for words.
Lloyd stared straight into his eyes, all trace of amusement gone.
Meeting that gaze, he suddenly found himself short on answers.
Or maybe it felt like his true thoughts were exposed.
"Is swordsmanship a joke to you? Something like that?"
"Of course not."
"Then why'd you take my serious request so lightly?"
"That's..."
"Can you teach someone swordsmanship with that sloppy mindset?"
"..."
He had nothing to say.
For the first time, he wanted to crawl into a hole.
The scoundrel young master's barbs kept stabbing deep, one after another.
"Seems like you were questioning if I was worthy to learn. Now I'm wondering if you're worthy to teach. Am I wrong?"
"..."
"So let's do this right. Instead of nitpicking qualifications, figure out how to teach better. Got it?"
"...Understood."
Haviel bit his lower lip without realizing.
Who'd have thought the day would come when that troublesome scoundrel schooled him.
It felt like a blunt weapon to the back of the head.
He wanted to argue back somehow.
But he couldn't.
'He's right about everything.'
Haviel admitted it meekly.
Exactly as Lloyd pointed out.
He'd only been judging the other's qualifications.
Never thought about how to teach better.
He hadn't prepared properly himself but tried testing the other's resolve.
Looking back, it was embarrassing.
Right then.
Ding dong.
[Haviel Asrahan's favorability toward you has increased by +1.]
[Current relationship with Haviel Asrahan: -28]
[Minor relationship improvement with a key figure grants 18 RP.]
[Current RP: 29]
(End of Chapter 11)
Read more on "novelshub.org"