Chapter 24
Near the forest at the southern end of the village.
Just as Doroen had said, the cabin was hard to find.
I thought it would be easy to find since it was at the southern end of the village, but I had to walk for quite a while before I started to see something through the trees.
It was a small, dilapidated cabin.
Honestly, it didn't look like a place where a person would live at all.
An old wooden axe was leaning against the front of the door, and next to it, a pile of moss-covered firewood was scattered about.
"...Does someone really live here."
Still, Doroen wasn't the type to spout nonsense.
I stood in front of the door, holding the bundle in my arms.
Wait, let's take a deep breath.
Thump. Thump.
"Is anyone there?"
I knocked on the door.
I couldn't feel any presence.
I waited a moment and knocked again.
"Excuse me. Doroen asked me to deliver some meat and bread to you!"
I spoke a little louder, and this time, there was a creaking sound from inside.
Creak.
Soon, the old wooden door opened slightly, revealing half of a face through the gap.
Grayish-brown hair was messy, covering the eyebrows, and a rough beard grew on the cheeks and chin.
The shoulders were slumped, and the clothes looked loose due to the skinny frame.
The appearance of a typical rural old man.
However, there was exactly one thing that was different.
The eyes.
The moment I met that gaze, my body instinctively froze.
...I guess I hit the jackpot.
"Doroen sent you?"
A low, hoarse voice.
I held up the bundle to show him.
"Yes. He told me to give this to you. And he asked me to send his regards."
At those words, the man's eyes wavered very briefly, just a little.
Then the door opened a bit more.
"...Leave it and go."
"Actually, there's one more thing I'd like to ask you...."
"...."
"I would like to learn the sword."
He looked me up and down.
A suspicious gaze.
No, it was closer to an annoyed gaze.
"...Aren't you a magician?"
"Pardon?"
I asked back in bewilderment.
It wasn't like there were any visible signs of me being a magician just from my appearance.
I intentionally didn't bring my staff, and I wasn't wearing a robe.
I was just wearing a plain shirt and pants.
A voice flowed out from beyond the crack in the door again.
"Those eyes... and hands. They're exactly like those who use magic. Hands that have no reason to hold a sword."
I absentmindedly looked down at my hands.
There were no scars, and no blisters either.
Hands that might be useful for writing or eating, but had absolutely no talent for fighting.
The fact that he recognized that at a glance.
"...You really were a knight."
At my words, I heard a light sound of breathing through the door.
Was it a laugh, or a scoff?
He was silent for a moment, then spoke calmly.
"You are the first one to come looking to learn the sword despite being a magician."
"...I hope you will take it to mean that I am that desperate."
At my words, the door simply closed.
This time, there was a click, the sound of the latch locking.
I had no expectations.
Even if it was a rejection, I wanted to try as much as I could until the very end.
Just as I was about to knock on the door again, a voice came from beyond the door.
"...If you do not come before the rooster crows tomorrow at dawn, there is no chance."
I paused for a moment at those words, then let out a small laugh.
I didn't know when the roosters in this neighborhood crowed, but still, this was a clear invitation.
"...Thank you."
Leaving only those words behind, I turned my back on the cabin.
On the way back, the smell of dry grass brushed the tip of my nose again.
What on earth would a former knight teach me?
No, more importantly, how much was he going to roll me around?
That was the bigger worry.
***
The next day at dawn, I got up before my eyes were fully open.
I was secretly anxious that the rooster might crow first while I was on the way.
Fortunately, the village was still quiet.
Through the thick fog, only the occasional chirping of a bird could be heard.
The cabin was still in the same place.
The door was closed, and not a single light leaked out.
I wondered if he was still sleeping, or if he just never turned them on in the first place.
Anyway, I stood in front of the door.
"I'm here."
A brief silence flowed.
No sound could be heard from inside.
And then, creak.
The face of the old man I saw yesterday reappeared through the gap.
"...You are earlier than I thought. Come in."
Saying that, he turned his back.
I followed him inside the cabin.
"Sir... Brigan... is it okay to call you that?"
"Tsk, what Sir. Just call me Mr. Bragan."
The inside of the cabin was much simpler than I thought.
A single table, and a few wooden bowls left alone on top of it.
There was an old wardrobe in the corner, and two small shelves caught my eye on the wall.
There was hardly anything that could be called a sign of life.
Rather than a house where someone lived, it was closer to a space just for sleeping.
"Do not sit. We are leaving soon."
Mr. Brigan added, opening the wardrobe and taking out a long wrapping cloth from inside.
Whatever was inside, the wrapping cloth clattered with a heavy sound.
When he untied the knot, several wooden swords with worn handles were revealed.
Unexpectedly, Mr. Bragan put all the wooden swords down and only picked up the cloth.
Dusting it off lightly, he asked quietly.
"Have you ever properly held a sword?"
"...No, I have not."
"Good. Then you will not even think about doing anything foolish."
Mr. Brigan muttered quietly, picking up the most worn wooden sword and throwing it to me.
I hurriedly caught it with both hands.
"Ugh."
It was heavy. Much heavier than I thought.
"A sword is a tool to cut people, and the body that handles it is the same."
After finishing his words, he walked outside without a word.
As we stepped outside, it was dark because the sun had not yet risen.
Gray fog wrapped around my ankles, and the ground was damp.
He stopped at the edge of the yard and drew a line on the ground.
"We start from here. First, we build the body."
After finishing his words, he quietly began scooping dirt into the cloth.
Handing it to me, he spoke calmly.
"Hold this and run down the hill, then come back up. Five times."
...I knew it.
I quietly hugged the sandbag and started to go down the hill.
The first few steps were fine. But I soon lost my breath.
The heavy weight pressed down on my shoulders, and my thighs throbbed as if they were ready to scream at any moment.
Besides, my arm wound was not even fully healed yet, so I wondered if this was okay.
"If you want to quit, say it now. Then you can go back right away."
Those words sounded strangely like a temptation.
The thought of giving up crossed my mind, but I did not stop my steps.
This was not simple training.
It was about proving that I could achieve something in this world, with this body.
It was a time to prove it to myself.
"Pant... pant... gasp!"
I caught my breath again and hugged the sandbag tightly.
And I went down the hill again.
This time, I came back up a little faster.
Mr. Brigan watched me wordlessly with a blank expression.
That made me care even more.
How did I look right now?
My legs were gradually losing sensation, and my lungs burned as if they were on fire.
But strangely enough, the thought that I could do it did not fade.
"Pant... pant... pant..."
I finally finished the fifth round trip.
I was completely out of breath.
I wanted to fall to my knees.
Honestly, I just wanted to lie down on the ground.
But he spoke first.
I thought I could finally rest, but.
"Good. Now for the next training."
The words came right up to my throat, but I just let out a breath.
***
The sun had already risen to the mountain ridge.
"Pant... pant... cough! Urgh!"
The air I breathed in through my nose scratched my vocal cords as roughly as grains of sand.
"Cough! Hack!"
From morning until now, an unheard-of training routine continued without even a moment to catch my breath.
I was finally able to stop only when my body reached its limit and my vision began to turn yellow.
He did not say the training was over.
However, seeing Mr. Brigan stay quiet, it seemed like it was truly over now.
Plop.
I collapsed onto the ground, practically slumping over.
Sweat poured down my back like rain, and all the strength had left my hands, making it hard to properly hold even a water cup.
As I gathered condensation to quench my thirst, he quietly approached and looked down at me.
There were no particular emotions, nor was there any encouragement.
"You endure better than I thought."
A casually tossed remark.
Should I call that a compliment, or just a calm impression?
Well, I didn't feel bad about it.
"Phew...."
I caught my breath and looked down at the ground.
Sweat dripped onto the already damp soil.
"We need to eat first. I can't have you starving to death."
Saying that, Mr. Brigan headed toward the cabin.
I still didn't have the strength to stand, so I just sat there in a daze for a long time.
My body was exhausted and my legs were shaking... but my mind felt a bit refreshed.
A feeling like I had overcome something, even if it was very small.
It felt as though my useless body was being properly refined, even if just a little.
Of course, if I had to repeat this tomorrow, I felt like I would die.
But for today, at least, I did it.
Just as I was catching my breath with that single thought, a wooden basket was plopped down in front of me.
"Eat. Before it gets cold."
He spoke nonchalantly as he sat across from me.
Inside the basket were two chunks of barley bread and a wooden bowl filled with a simple vegetable stew.
Compared to the intensity of the training, it was a rather disappointing meal... but right now, I felt like I could swallow anything.
I munched on the barley bread and swallowed it like someone who had starved for days.
Even though it was hard and dry, it was strangely delicious.
I gulped down the soup almost as if I were drinking water.
Mr. Brigan silently ate his stew and quietly watched me.
"You still have a long way to go with that body."
It was a random remark.
But strangely, I didn't feel offended.
Rather, his words sounded like an accurate diagnosis of my current condition.
"Tomorrow will be even harder."
Mr. Brigan said as he put down his spoon.
"So get plenty of sleep today. Not that you'll have the strength to stand up anyway."
Instead of answering, I took another bite of bread.
Hearing that tomorrow would be harder made my stomach drop... but I still understood.
That this suffering would eventually change me.
Mr. Brigan stood up from his seat.
As his footsteps faded away, I chugged the last of the stew.
Only then did my stomach finally feel warm.
I looked up at the sky.
The sun hung in the middle of the blue sky, as if it had stopped moving.
For the first time since I came here, a single day felt so incredibly long.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Today, I wanted to rest for just a little while longer.
"Get up. If you're done eating, we need to start training."
...Are you crazy.
***
Two days passed since I started training like that.
My body steadily broke down, and muscle aches faithfully visited me.
But my arms trembled less than yesterday, and I regained a bit of feeling in the hand holding the sword.
That day, too, I had finished morning training and was sitting on the ground, barely catching my breath.
"Hey, get up. I brought the kids!"
What's with this loud voice.
When I lifted my head, it was Mr. Brigan, who said he was going to the village.
Behind him followed the members of the Barret Mercenary Group, who had returned yesterday.
"...Why are those people here, don't tell me?"
"They were snooping around the village, so I brought them. It's great since you needed sparring partners anyway."
Mr. Brigan replied with a shrug.
...This eccentric old man?
I recognized all three of their faces, but we weren't friendly.
Mr. Brigan said.
"Starting today, it's real combat. Have a good time playing around."
"...Wait a minute. At least give me a weapon..."
"Well, a wooden sword should be enough."
Mr. Brigan ignored my words and stepped back with his hands behind his back.
Training was already hard enough, but now I even had spectators.
I picked up the wooden sword.
My body felt heavy, but what could I do.
With this damn training, there's no way I'd ever have an easy day.
"Ah, for reference, if you lose, there's no dinner."
...And I didn't want to starve.
***
Including real combat training, it was now the fifth day since I started.
Mr. Brigan brought one or two people from the Barret Mercenary Group every day.
I took turns clashing my wooden sword with theirs, and the results were disastrous.
My record so far was 0 wins, 21 losses, and 2 draws out of 23 matches.
I was just a punching bag.
Taking hits was my job, and falling down was also my job.
At this point, I didn't even know the boundary between torture and training anymore.
Even so, strangely enough, my body was slowly getting used to it.
I was exhausted, but I endured enough not to collapse.
More and more feeling returned to the hand holding the sword.
Above all, my condition was better today than usual.
I will definitely win today....
"Today, I'll give you a special chance to choose your sparring partner."
Mr. Brigan said in his signature sarcastic tone.
"We'll talk about the reward after you win."
The training that started alone had somehow turned into joint training with the Barret Mercenary Group.
Now they weren't just fighting me, but the mercenaries were also sparring among themselves.
I heard Mr. Brigan used to live alone... Did he suddenly get a taste for socializing in his old age?
Anyway, among them, there was one guy who boasted a record close to a total losing streak like me.
His name was Piren, a so-called fellow loser.
"That guy."
I pointed at him with my hand.
Piren looked back with a flustered face.
"...Me? Wait, me?"
"Yeah, you."
"No, my back isn't feeling too good today-"
"Be quiet and step forward."
Mr. Brigan gave Piren a shove on the back, pushing him forward.
He reluctantly picked up a wooden sword.
It looked less like he was going to fight and more like he was going to get a shot.
Standing face to face, we slowly stepped toward each other.
We hadn't coordinated our breathing, but somehow our tempo matched.
Thwack!
The first clash.
Our swords lightly collided.
With our blades entangled, we entered a test of strength.
Creak. Creeeak.
Was it because I pushed my sword too far forward?
Taking advantage of my center of gravity shifting slightly forward, Piren eased his strength and broke my balance.
And immediately, his sword thrust up toward my neck.
It should have ended with this single blow.
But today, my body reacted differently.
Whoosh-
Thanks to an agile dodge, the strike sliced through the empty air.
The opponent's gaze, the angle of his hands, the tension in his arms.
My eyes were reading those things, and my hands reacted naturally.
Thwack! Clack! Thud!
We clashed a few more times and then widened the distance between us.
Piren furrowed his brows and corrected his stance.
I also caught my breath and raised my wooden sword again.
And then, just as Piren stepped forward to swing his sword.
One beat faster, my body moved first.
An opening.
I thrust my sword right below Piren's elbow as he aimed for my head.
Smack.
"Argh!"
The wooden sword accurately struck Piren's wrist.
The sword flew from his hand into the air.
Clatter- clank!
The sound of the wooden sword hitting the ground echoed.
A brief silence flowed.
At that moment, someone could be heard stifling a laugh, and soon cheers erupted.
"Haha, Piren! Are you losing to the Magician now too!"
"Wow, looking sharp today, aren't you?"
...Finally, my first victory.
I was filled with more emotion than I had anticipated.
Mr. Brigan clapped his hands twice with an expressionless face.
"How commendable. Then I'll add some meat to your dinner tonight."
"...Really?"
"Instead, your next opponents will be two people."
"...Can we just skip the meat?"
***
That afternoon.
After finishing training, I was dragging my completely exhausted body back to the inn.
My body felt like it weighed a ton, but the wind touching the nape of my neck was especially cool.
I was just heavily dragging my feet toward the inn as usual.
From beyond the village hill, a small sound was gradually getting closer.
Neigh- clippity-clop.
I raised my head at the unfamiliar sound of horse hooves.
Towards the village entrance, an unfamiliar flag was fluttering in the wind.
A white flag engraved with a red sun pattern.
Beneath it, people wearing white robes were slowly entering the village on horseback.
Their equipment was pristine, as if not a speck of dust had touched it.
Rather than mercenaries, their attire was somewhat closer to... priests.
A village resident next to me muttered in a low voice.
"The Sereon Church?"
At that name, my gaze naturally drifted back to the flag.
So that is the symbol of the Sereon Church.
I faintly recalled seeing it once or twice in the city.
'Anyway... what is going on?'
The village chief mentioned he was sending a report to the Sereon Church.
Did they come to investigate it themselves?
An ominous feeling crept up from within.
For some reason, I had a bad feeling about this.
One of those wearing a robe spoke to the village residents.
A calm yet overbearing tone.
Their gestures were gentle, but their attitude somehow looked down on others.
At that moment, someone next to me muttered quietly.
"I wonder what's going to happen now...."
I unconsciously pressed my lips together.
It smelled like a bothersome, headache-inducing ordeal.
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