Chapter 23

The Reborn Swordmaster

Chapter 23

"I'm not going to fight on the front line."

Riyan's announcement struck the newcomers like a bolt from the blue.

Their expressions immediately twisted.

They had been reassured by the thought that Riyan, who had already demonstrated such overwhelming strength, would be fighting alongside them.

That only made his announcement more upsetting.

"Why?"

The question came from a fighter with a relatively youthful face.

Although his eyes were filled with determination, his face and body were covered in bruises.

Of course, the other fighters were in similar condition after constantly falling and colliding with things during the harsh training.

But the newcomer who had asked the question looked particularly battered.

Since the training encouraged competition, he had probably been receiving a considerable amount of rough treatment from the other members of his squad.

Nothing unusual about that.

Every training center had its own rules.

Although Riyan was currently in command for several reasons, he hadn't gone out of his way to interfere.

These weren't the sort of men who would change their behavior simply because someone told them to.

Riyan answered calmly.

"Why?"

"That's right."

"Because it looks like the preparations are complete."

"The preparations are complete...?"

"Exactly what I said."

"If you're not going to fight alongside us, could you at least let us choose our own weapons?"

The newcomers had felt considerably more secure because they'd believed Riyan would be fighting with them.

That was why they'd suppressed their dissatisfaction even though he'd given them enormous tower shields and training shortswords.

But now he was saying he wouldn't stand on the front line?

Is he planning to use us as human shields?

Are we nothing more than bait?

Anger began appearing on the newcomers' faces as those thoughts crossed their minds.

Just then, Riyan spoke.

"What's your name?"

He was addressing the fighter at the front, the one who had first questioned him.

"Dvier."

"Good, Dvier. Since you're so curious about what these preparations involve, I'll explain them to you."

Riyan faced Dvier with his usual indifferent expression and raised three fingers.

He began folding them down one by one as he spoke.

"Raise your shield or lower it."

"..."

"Advance or stop."

"..."

"Lower your stance or straighten up."

Dvier and the other fighters who were listening looked puzzled.

But Riyan continued without the slightest hesitation.

"Is there anyone here who doesn't understand those three actions, is deaf, or feels a sudden urge to disobey?"

Naturally, no one raised a hand.

Riyan nodded in satisfaction.

"Then you're ready. Get aboard the ship."

"..."

The squad leaders were already standing on the model ship, glaring at Riyan.

Ignoring their gazes, Riyan casually swung his wooden pole a few times and climbed aboard.

Since Riyan had received authority from Director Berka, Dvier and the other newcomers had no choice.

They silently followed him.

Soon, the ten fighters had divided into two groups of five and taken their positions at opposite ends of the model ship.

They faced one another.

Meanwhile, under the instructors' direction, additional fighters moved into position at the bow and stern.

As the final preparations were being completed, Riyan, who had remained behind the newcomers, approached them and spoke quietly.

"Keep your shoulders together. Connect your shields. Raise them to just below eye level. Do you remember what I told you earlier?"

"What are you...?"

"Shut up and listen. Don't make me repeat myself."

The fighter who met Riyan's black eyes immediately closed his mouth.

Riyan bared his teeth in a faint smile.

"Newcomers like you probably haven't had many opportunities to cut someone down. But you've been beaten plenty of times, haven't you? In that particular field, you might have more experience than anyone else in this training center. Make use of it. At least you've been given large shields, so your circumstances aren't particularly bad."

"..."

"So follow my instructions. Do that, and I'll bring you victory."

The newcomers sharply drew in their breaths.

Victory.

What a distant word.

Ever since entering the Rodus Training Center, they had known little besides defeat.

To them, Riyan's promise sounded incredibly sweet.

And who was the one making that promise?

He was the man who had defeated Yavrik and beaten the squad leaders standing before them with his bare hands.

Damn it. Whatever.

He must have a reason for telling us to do this.

They had nothing left to lose.

Sharing the same thoughts, the newcomers began closing ranks.

They pressed their shoulders together and raised their shields to just below eye level.

Strangely, they could almost hear the heartbeats of the companions standing beside them.

They could feel trembling hands and forearms stiffened by tension.

Every point of contact seemed to communicate the emotions of the person beside them.

So I'm not the only one who's afraid.

The moment they realized everyone was in the same situation, they felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

Even if they died, they wouldn't be dying alone.

It was a thought that had never occurred to them while training as fighters.

Win or die.

They had been told so many times that they had practically grown calluses on their ears.

They were supposed to bear the burden of life and death entirely on their own.

But what they were experiencing now was completely different.

It was an entirely new sensation.

"Dvier."

Riyan's voice was quiet but unmistakably clear.

Dvier kept his gaze fixed straight ahead and nodded.

"I'll ask you again. Do you remember the preparations I explained earlier?"

"...Raise or lower our shields. Advance or stop. Lower our stance or straighten up."

Dvier answered each point clearly.

Riyan nodded.

Bwooooo!

At that moment, Haral, who had been watching the training, blew a horn made from an animal's horn.

The model ship immediately began pitching up and down.

"Kill them!"

The squad leaders charged forward, their eyes gleaming.

Even on the deck of a ship rocking in every direction, they maintained their balance remarkably well.

The newcomers, on the other hand, gradually began losing their footing despite pressing their shoulders together.

Of course, Riyan, who had remained behind them, saw everything.

There was no need to activate his extraordinary perception, which divided the battlefield into red and white territories according to danger.

The situation was far too clear.

And far too familiar.

Is this the first time in this life?

The scale was considerably smaller, and the circumstances were much less sophisticated.

Nevertheless, for the first time since awakening in his new body, Riyan felt a faint trace of the exhilaration he'd once experienced while commanding a battlefield.

He murmured quietly.

"Let's do this."

My first legionnaires.

Dvier swallowed nervously as Bjorn, one of the squad leaders, charged toward him.

The man from Nord had relentlessly tormented Dvier during the training exercises that were supposedly meant to prepare them for the mock naval battle.

His terrifying gaze had even appeared in Dvier's nightmares.

What the hell am I doing here...?

For a moment, Dvier felt as though the situation was completely unreal.

Was standing here nothing more than a dream?

But the violently rocking deck reminded him that everything was painfully real.

I'm... I'm going to fall...

Just then, the bow of the model ship rose sharply, shifting his center of gravity backward.

Instinctively, Dvier began leaning forward to compensate.

But before he could...

"Get your head together and lower your stance!"

A shout rang out behind him.

At the same moment, someone grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him backward.

His body naturally began falling in that direction.

But something immediately pressed against his back, providing firm support.

What?

Dvier glanced behind him.

His eyes widened.

A wooden pole stretched horizontally across his back and the backs of his companions, supporting them firmly.

And Riyan, who was holding that pole, was bracing himself against a post that had been installed on the deck to represent the ship's mast.

...!

The stability provided by having something to lean against was extraordinary.

Dvier, who had been on the verge of falling, recovered his balance without much difficulty.

His companions were also standing firmly with their shoulders pressed against his, meaning he only needed to worry about falling forward or backward.

Suddenly, the whole situation felt surprisingly manageable.

"Die!"

The squad leaders charged toward them.

At that exact moment, a short command came from behind.

"Shields up."

Dvier raised his shield.

His companions, standing shoulder to shoulder, did the same.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Wooden swords struck the raised shield wall, producing a series of dull impacts.

At the same time, the stern of the model ship rose slightly.

This time, their center of gravity shifted forward.

"Straighten up."

Dvier and the others raised their stances to recover their balance.

By now, every one of them knew Riyan was standing behind them.

They even wrapped their free arms around the wooden pole supporting their backs.

Keeping their balance had never been easier.

Once their greatest difficulty had been resolved, everything else became remarkably simple.

They merely had to watch the incoming wooden swords and deflect them with their enormous shields.

"My goodness..."

Dvier couldn't help murmuring in amazement.

Just then, the violently rocking deck became relatively calm.

It was like a beach briefly settling after a large wave had passed.

"Advance."

Another command came from behind.

At the same time, the wooden pole began pushing them forward.

Matching its force and pressure, Dvier advanced alongside his companions.

Suddenly, he felt a thrill of exhilaration.

Their opponents, who had been pulling back slightly after several rounds of attacks, were now looking at them in confusion.

"Stop."

The advancing shield wall immediately halted.

At the same time, the bow of the model ship began rising again.

But Dvier was no longer afraid.

His nervousness had disappeared long ago.

With the tension gone from his body, maintaining his balance became even easier.

The principle was incredibly simple.

When the ship rocked, they stopped. When it became calm, they advanced.

When their opponents attacked, they raised their shields to block. When the attackers withdrew, they lowered them.

When the bow rose, they lowered their stances. When the stern rose, they straightened up.

"W-What the hell is wrong with these bastards?"

Their opponents were beginning to panic.

They were human too, so whenever the ship tilted, they had to stop attacking and regain their balance.

Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been a problem.

Once the ship settled, they could simply finish off the men who had fallen.

But instead of falling, their opponents crouched like turtles whenever the deck rocked.

Then, as soon as it became calm, they approached with their shields raised.

The distance between the two groups steadily narrowed.

And once they entered close range, the newcomers carrying enormous shields held the advantage.

Their opponents couldn't even find a place to attack.

How were they supposed to strike or stab when an enormous wall filled their entire field of vision?

Clack! Clack!

For a while, only the pitiful sound of wooden swords striking shields could be heard.

"Advance."

As soon as the attacks stopped, Riyan, who had been waiting behind the shield wall, issued another command.

The formation moved forward again.

After several such advances, their opponents were left with very little room to retreat.

This time, instead of issuing another command, Riyan spoke in a cold voice.

"The enemy is getting tired."

Naturally, the newcomers began noticing their opponents' labored breathing and the sweat pouring down their faces.

It was only to be expected.

One side had done little more than crouch and hold up its shields.

The other had been swinging its weapons with all its strength.

And then there were the confused expressions on the faces of men who had always been so arrogant and commanding.

"What are you waiting for? Crush the enemy."

Riyan's command came in the same calm, even tone he'd used throughout the exercise.

Anger began appearing on the newcomers' faces.

All the threats and intimidation they'd endured seemed to flash through their minds.

At last, they unleashed what they'd been patiently keeping hidden behind their shields.

Their short swords began thrusting out through the gaps in the shield wall.