"We'll have to pay close attention in class, right? Especially since most of you will be deployed to the front lines—practical tactics for real combat are essential."
The cadets' faces and the atmosphere soured instantly at Jabein's words.
Front-line deployment? Just thinking about it makes me dizzy.
He might seriously consider deserting at this rate.
But not everyone goes, so there's still a chance to dodge it.
Thanks to the bonus points from the magic bullet exercise, a thread of hope remained.
"I've gone on a bit long with the chit-chat. Next up: naval tactics. The Aditz Empire has Osiris Kingdom, the maritime powerhouse, as an ally, so memorize this thoroughly too."
It was a bizarre, nightmarish teaching method.
Every word from his mouth exponentially expanded the exam scope.
Stop… you bastard.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇"We'll now conduct a dormitory inspection. Check the scoring sheet we handed out for the criteria."
It was during the time all cadets were in class.
The instructors and assistants had gathered in the dorms, preparing a covert operation.
Dormitory Inspection Scoring Sheet# Trash on desk: -1 point for entire room
# Bed unmade: -1 point for that cadet
# Clothes not properly stored: -1 point for that cadet
.
.
.
"At this rate, no dorm will pass."
The assistant wore a completely human expression, unlike the one he showed the cadets.
"Yeah. These cadets are beyond hopeless."
Captain Gevin, in charge of discipline, shook his head with a weary look.
"Worst class ever."
"That's why we need to hammer in the score differences to knock some sense into them."
"Understood."
"Let's begin."
After dividing inspection zones, Captain Gevin started on the first floor.
"Room 1 first."
The room closest to the main entrance.
As soon as Captain Gevin opened the door, his face twisted in disgust.
What the hell is this?
They must've rushed out—the desk was a mess, and the bed unmade.
"They've practically shed their skin here. Looks like what they slept in."
The assistant pointed to underwear tossed on the bed.
"Not a single item passes the sheet… Haa."
Two years as an instructor.
This was the worst of hundreds of dorm checks, right from the first room.
"Move to the next."
The captain sighed and headed to Room 2.
"Uh…"
This one was shocking too.
Bed a tangled mess, chair toppled like an explosion hit.
Captain Gevin's blood pressure spiked.
"These bastards."
Instructors and assistants usually yelled and raged forcibly at cadets.
They knew their standards were overly harsh.
But this… was inhumanely bad.
"Nothing here passes without a checkmark either."
"Log it all. We've warned them plenty, but they still haven't shaped up."
The captain shook his head as he checked rooms.
Expectations for the cadets dwindled with each step back, leaving only sighs.
"Room 7. Wonder what insane mess they've got for me now."
With a resigned expression, the captain opened the door.
Room 7 revealed itself.
Before even stepping in, the captain and assistant froze in shock.
"Why… is it clean?"
No visible dust, no trash on the floor.
Desk with only proper items like writing tools.
Clothes hung neatly.
Standard from the last class, but a miracle after six disasters.
"Sir, this cadet… even folded their blanket."
Normally hawk-eyed for dust, they were already satisfied.
The assistant gawked at the made bed like it was alien tech.
"Huh. Who owns that bed?"
"Palan Oclo… sir."
"Palan? Rings a bell… The one Captain Eden Tal mentioned."
Before inspection, the captain had dined with instructors including Eden Tal.
Naturally, the magic bullet incident came up.
Eden Tal wouldn't skip Palan's heroics in averting disaster.
"Problem child?"
"Not a problem—Captain Eden Tal praised him highly. Can't go into details, but he prevented a training accident."
"A cadet…?"
The assistant tilted his head in confusion, but the captain said no more.
Military accidents: observe first, ask later.
Not perfectly squared, but good enough.
Last class, he'd warn to fold straighter—no deduction.
But this class? Utter trash.
Folding the blanket alone was heroic.
"How many points for top barracks cadet?"
"2 points."
"Give it to him. Haven't seen all yet, but this room's the cleanest."
As predicted, Room 8 onward was hell again.
Thus, Room 7 took top room, Palan top cadet in the first inspection.
"He seems the most promising. Worth watching."
"I'll inform the other assistants."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇"Haa, I'm beat."
Time flew by unnoticed.
Run, drop, run, eat, sleep.
No personal time—just collapsing into bed, eyes shut, morning dawns.
Friday at last, end of the hellish week.
Weekend off, so just survive today.
Not false hope—the Empire guarded weekends fiercely.
Announcement: All trainees, assemble at Soyeon Parade Ground in full uniform with swords equipped. End of transmission.
Thud thud thud thud.
Five days in, cadets bolted from rooms like Pavlov's dogs, sprinting corridors.
I grabbed my sword first, dashing ahead to claim front row.
Why bother?
Safety first.
Not for points—for no deductions.
"Who dropped their sword on the floor! Would you treat your own heart like that, cadet?!"
"S-sorry!"
"Drop and give me push-ups!"
A cadet, rushing, failed to secure scabbard—sword clattered.
Poor guy.
Shit happens with swords, but the yelling's insane.
"One: the sword. Two: your second heart. One!"
"The sword!"
"Louder! Two!"
"Your second heart!!"
"One!"
.
.
.
Brutal punishment.
Disgusting, inhuman scene—but too routine now.
No thoughts left.
I scare myself. Gotta escape soon.
Thank god it's just two weeks.
"Cadets, ate a hearty breakfast?"
"Yes, sir!!!!"
Cadets roared back at the instructor on stage, discipline tight.
Even the young masters look like soldiers now.
Unified responses—real progress.
"Road march scheduled, but individual combat training instead due to schedule."
Shit, what?
Kakgyejeon.
Top three hell trainings—guaranteed.
"Jackpot, no march."
"Lucky today."
Ignorant cadets whispered happily.
You idiots, time to cry.
Only I seemed grave.
"Kakgyejeon builds essential combat skills. I'll lead. Fall behind? Harsh discipline and -3 points. Stick it out. Understood?!"
"Yes, sir!!!!"
Ion's face lit at deductions.
This guy's obsessed with scores.
Slept four hours? Cut to two for perfect tactics score.
Drags me along—good, but overkill sometimes.
Miracle he hasn't collapsed.
"Never give up, cadets. 1st Company, 1st Platoon—forward march to parade ground!"
They stepped off in sync.
A week ago, distinct noble brats. Who'd believe?
Humans adapt.
"Cadet, standard."
At parade ground, instructor pointed center.
"Standard!"
"Arms' width, side by side."
"Ugh!!"
Odd cry, lining up.
"Of many kakgyejeon moves, narrow prone crawl first. Assistant, position."
Thud. Thud.
Assistant mounted stage inhumanly.
Familiar face—almost welcoming.
"Assistant, narrow prone. Position one!"
"One!"
Splat!
Assistant flattened fully to ground.
"Position one: prep stance. Bend elbows, arms to body, legs closed—key points."
Seemed easy so far.
Cadets serene, like sweet deal today.
"Assistant, position two!"
"Two!"
Extended left arm, lifted torso.
"Core: don't expose to enemy—minimal lift. Position three!"
"Three!"
Pulled with right arm, advanced.
Minimize legs, arm power.
Obviously grueling.
"That's narrow prone. Understood?"
"Yes…!!"
"Begin. Cadets, narrow prone position one!"
Demo over—our hell begins.
Instructor launched right in.
Damn it.
I slammed flat fast, cursing inwardly.
"Hold sword two-handed. Drop it? Means forfeiting life—harsh discipline!"
Instructor menaced, patrolling.
"Echo! Position two!"
"Position two!!!!"
Lift torso.
Not hard yet.
Some struggled though.
"Who said arch your back! Forgot kakgyejeon purpose, cadet?"
"N-no, sir!"
"Explain: why this in combat?"
Murderous glare.
Wrong answer? Deduction certain.
"To conceal, avoid detection, survive."
"Hm, correct. But back straight?"
"No, sir!!!"
"Do it right."
"Yes, sir!!!"
Loud, right answer—got off easy.
Survived that, Bear Grylls?
Not perfect survival.
True hell now.
"Position three!"
"Position three!!!!"
Swish!
Thousand cadets moved—sandstorm.
"Essential for arrow- and magic-tool-filled fields. Repeat. Position one!"
"Position one!"
Not tough once.
But endless—that's the killer.
"Continuous now. Narrow prone forward!"
"Execute!!!!"
30 minutes in.
Over 50 reps—elbows ached.
Damn, that's why gear up for kakgyejeon.
Knew ahead, would've worn socks.
"Cadet, what was that? Freeze in battle too?!"
Exhausted skip—caught by instructor.
"You do twice per one others do. Clear?"
"Yes, sir!!"
"Narrow prone continuous!"
Swish! Swish!
"Continues till all master perfectly!"
Translation: until he says stop.
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