The Reborn Swordmaster
Chapter 24
After another round of violent rocking, the squad leaders finally surrendered.
The entire training ground fell silent.
Riyan, who had expected this outcome, simply nodded.
For my first time commanding troops in this new life...
It wasn't bad.
He didn't have extensive experience in naval warfare, nor was he particularly well-versed in naval strategy and tactics.
Eldred had been a knight who charged across open battlefields, and Riyan had followed his teachings.
Nevertheless, one fundamental truth remained unchanged.
In the living organism known as an army, organization was as essential as the heart.
As long as one understood that fundamental principle, everything else was of secondary importance.
"Ughhh..."
The squad leaders sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, were proof of that.
Every one of them had been accustomed to sailing and battling the waves since they were barely old enough to walk.
Yet they'd all been defeated.
And the ones who had beaten them were the very newcomers they'd never even regarded as human beings.
In terms of individual combat ability, the newcomers probably couldn't compare to the squad leaders at all.
But the result was the exact opposite.
The reason for that difference was obvious.
The squad leaders had never abandoned their barbaric habits.
They were men who attacked unarmed merchant ships and plundered defenseless coastal villages.
Whenever they encountered a regular army, they fled as fast as their legs could carry them.
Eventually, they'd been unlucky enough to be captured and forced to begin new lives as fighters.
"Riyan."
Haral approached Riyan with an expression of utter disbelief.
"...They won?"
"Yes. As you can see."
"How did you do that?"
"I simply made them work together."
Haral frowned, having inadvertently asked a rather pointless question.
"No, I have eyes. I could see that much. What I'm asking is how you managed to change them so completely in such a short time."
"Because they were already prepared."
"Prepared?"
Riyan turned his head slightly toward the model ship.
The newcomers were still standing on the deck, looking as though they couldn't quite believe what had happened.
The other fighters had gathered around them and were cheering enthusiastically.
Naturally, it wasn't only the newcomers who resented the squad leaders.
Riyan also noticed the frustrated expressions on the defeated squad leaders' faces and shrugged.
"The fact that they were selected as potential fighters in the first place means they were already prepared, both physically and mentally."
"Hmm..."
"If they'd been complete idiots who couldn't tell right from left, they would've been sold to some mine with shackles around their ankles. On the other hand, if they'd been physically weak, they would've become monster feed. Just like I was supposed to."
"..."
Haral let out a quiet breath at the mention of monster feed.
Riyan continued without paying it any particular attention.
"In fact, simply making it into this training center means their preparations were already complete. The important thing was that they didn't know what they needed to do or how to do it."
"And you knew?"
"That's strange. Didn't you just tell me you had eyes?"
"Then those balance-training exercises you made them do earlier were also...?"
"After falling over countless times, they must have become painfully aware of the difference between themselves and the squad leaders. Some may even have decided that the difference was impossible to overcome. Others probably gave up before trying, assuming they were limited by the circumstances of their birth."
Haral couldn't laugh at Riyan's teasing remark about having eyes.
A tingling sensation was spreading across his arms and the back of his neck.
Riyan, on the other hand, continued speaking as though it were nothing particularly remarkable.
"That's why I let them think and judge the situation for themselves. The greater their belief in those limitations, the greater the impact when those beliefs are shattered. Those fighters will no longer be trapped by their backgrounds or individual abilities. And that change in their thinking will continue to spread until it eventually destroys something else."
"Destroys something? What?"
Haral narrowed his eyes and asked again.
Riyan pointed toward the model ship.
Only then did Haral understand.
He let out a quiet exclamation.
"Their fear of the mock naval battle?"
"Exactly."
Riyan nodded and looked toward the defeated squad leaders lying on the ground.
"Their role is finished now, so I'll select new squad leaders. The criterion will be their understanding of tactics. I intend to teach the selected fighters personally. Once they're sufficiently prepared, they'll teach the others. I'd appreciate it if you could assign a few instructors to assist me. I'll need help with the selection process."
"..."
"And we'll need to build another model ship. As you've seen, we only have one right now, so we can only conduct training for battles that take place on a single deck. I think we need to practice boarding actions as well."
"Boarding actions?"
Riyan narrowed his eyes slightly.
"If we're going to cross swords with the enemy, they have to come aboard, don't they? Whether they ram us with their bow or pull their ships alongside ours and cross over using grappling hooks or ladders."
"Ah. Right. So that's why you want to build another ship."
Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Haral scratched the back of his neck.
Then he snapped his fingers.
"Don't worry about it. Judging by the director's reaction, he's ready to agree to practically anything you ask for. Of course, that's partly because I've been putting in a good word for you..."
"By the way, what happened to the alcohol and snacks I asked you to prepare?"
"...They're in the warehouse."
"As I mentioned before, the training is only going to become harder. We'll need to give the fighters some rewards now and then to keep them motivated."
"All right, damn it! So what exactly do you want me to do?"
"That's something you should handle, Instructor Haral."
"Huh?"
"I might know what needs to be taught, but you're clearly better at handling the fighters than I am, aren't you? You're the senior instructor, after all."
"Ah? Hm? Well, yes. Of course. That's my specialty. You see, when it comes to the carrot-and-stick approach..."
Naturally, that was a lie.
How could Riyan have forgotten the experience of rising from the very bottom to command an entire legion?
But there was no reason to spoil a good arrangement.
Riyan let Haral's enthusiastic explanation go in one ear and out the other.
His deep, unreadable eyes remained fixed on the fighters.
Two weeks had passed since training for the mock naval battle began.
One afternoon, beneath the scorching sunlight, the main gate of the Rodus Training Center opened, and the sound of approaching hooves rang out.
A carriage entered first.
Behind it came a line of sturdy men, numbering roughly twenty.
A large emblem was displayed on the carriage.
It depicted a rose in full bloom and a longsword entwined by the vines extending beneath it.
It was the symbol of the Verso Training Center.
Matching the emblem's colors, the men following the carriage were dressed in red and black.
Berka and his instructors were waiting to welcome them.
They wore the black uniforms that represented the Rodus Training Center, with its emblem attached to their shoulder insignia.
Crossed swords and a shield, with a skull positioned above them.
A raven sat atop the skull with its wings folded.
"Director Berka! It's such a hot day. Why have you come all the way out here?"
The carriage door opened, revealing a man with a distinctive scar across the bridge of his nose.
He greeted Berka, the director of the Rodus Training Center, with an easygoing smile.
"Doren! It's been a while."
Berka extended a hand in greeting.
The scarred man named Doren grasped it, pulled Berka toward him, and embraced him warmly.
"It certainly has. Have you been well, Director?"
"I've been doing fine. What about you?"
"As you can see, I'm barely managing to stay alive. Ah, our director asked me to send you his regards. He was disappointed that he couldn't come in person because he hasn't been feeling well."
"Oh dear. Is he seriously ill?"
"He's quite old, after all. Anyway, is that the thing you told us about?"
Doren glanced around the Rodus Training Center's training ground.
It didn't take long for his sharp eyes to widen.
Two enormous wooden structures stood side by side in the training ground.
They resembled the skeletons of gigantic beasts.
Although they had been modeled after the silhouettes of actual galleys, their appearances were rather crude.
There were no sails or oars for navigation, nor any magnificent figureheads.
Only broad decks and the keels supporting them remained.
"Hahaha! Not bad, is it?"
"Hmm... Are those logs underneath meant to imitate waves? And you've installed supports at the front and back to prevent the structures from collapsing. You've prepared quite thoroughly."
"Something like that. Anyway, let's get moving."
Berka and Doren began walking side by side toward the Rodus Training Center's main building.
One might have expected the Verso fighters to look around with curiosity after arriving at another training center.
Instead, they kept their eyes fixed straight ahead and followed with disciplined movements.
Berka glanced at them before asking another question.
"By the way, what about the other training centers?"
Verso wasn't the only training center that had received a proposal to participate in joint training.
The training center that consistently distinguished itself most in mock naval battles was Trident, located by the coast some distance beyond the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.
Its name itself meant a three-pronged spear.
Trident was notorious for beginning its training by throwing every newly acquired slave into the sea.
Those who sank helplessly were reduced to disposable resources.
Those who endured demonstrated sufficient stamina, perseverance, and other qualities to be trained as fighters.
Even its regular training took place in the sea rather than on rough, dry ground.
In a sense, it wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say that the Trident Training Center existed specifically for mock naval battles.
Indeed, Trident won practically every time.
Since that was hardly a secret, Doren gave a bitter smile.
"You know how it is, Director Berka. Everyone assumes Trident will win anyway. Rather than waste their energy preparing, the other training centers are probably more interested in deciding which of their useless fighters to send."
"Even so, we contacted quite a few places."
"To be completely frank, we weren't planning to participate either."
Berka frowned at Doren's admission.
"You could at least have come to take a look. That's rather cold of you."
"Because doing so would make us a target. Surely you understand that much."
Naturally, the more enthusiastically a training center prepared for the mock naval battle, the more likely it was to become one of Trident's primary targets.
And that was precisely what most training centers wanted to avoid.
After all, their main objective was to bring as many fighters home alive as possible.
"Even so, how can they be frightened before the match has even begun?"
"They're waiting to see how things develop. The organizers probably aren't particularly happy about constantly grinding up fighters in these pointless mock naval battles either. If there's even a chance that something worthwhile might come of this, their attitudes could change."
"I suppose that's true... But why did your people decide to come?"
Since Doren had admitted they weren't originally planning to participate, Berka was asking what had changed their minds.
Doren shrugged.
"One of our troublemakers insisted that he would participate in the mock naval battle, even if it killed him. He's been making a terrible fuss about it."
"A troublemaker?"
At Berka's question, Doren raised his thumb and pointed behind him.
Berka glanced backward.
His eyes widened.
"Good afternoon, Director Berka."
A handsome young man with glossy, golden curls bowed when their eyes met.
It was Aries, the Rose Fighter.
Berka's eyes widened even further.
He immediately leaned toward Doren and whispered.
"The Rose Fighter is participating in the mock naval battle? I know your director isn't well, but has he gone senile?"
The implication was obvious.
How could Verso allow a fighter who attracted so much sponsorship to participate in such a dangerous event?
Doren sighed.
"What else can we do? He insists on participating. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Couldn't you simply refuse to give him permission?"
"He says he'll retire if we do. What are we supposed to do about that?"
"But he'd die if he retired, wouldn't he? Is he really stupid enough not to understand that?"
"Perhaps he thinks he has someone he can rely on after spending so much time visiting noble households. It's all pointless, of course."
Berka nodded at Doren's words.
He didn't know what Aries was scheming, but Doren was undoubtedly right that it would be pointless.
A noblewoman might genuinely cherish a fighter.
After all, it was only natural for people to develop affection and love even for their pets.
But there was no one who would put themselves, their family, and their entire house at risk for the sake of a pet.
Berka was certain of that.
Once Aries abandoned his status as a fighter, what awaited him probably wouldn't be a peaceful retirement.
It would be eternal darkness.
Whether that came in the form of a sharp dagger or a gallows built to execute him on false charges hardly mattered.
"Then why participate in the mock naval battle?"
"He probably wants to build a reputation as quickly as possible and become a Champion. That would guarantee his freedom."
That made sense.
The Empire was a place where one had to look to fairy tales for romance.
Yet, strangely enough, it was also unusually generous toward Champions.
Of course, becoming one wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded.
But unlike Doren, whose expression remained worried, Berka was beginning to look delighted.
Things are developing rather nicely.
Who was the Rose Fighter?
He was a fighter who enjoyed the undivided attention of noblewomen who had more money than they knew what to do with but couldn't indulge themselves too openly because of their elevated status.
And now that very fighter was taking a keen interest in the mock naval battle.
Better yet, he would be participating alongside the Rodus Training Center.
This was an excellent opportunity to share in the benefits of his considerable reputation.
Berka nodded.
"Excellent. Since you've brought us such a talented fighter, we should offer him suitable treatment. I'll make sure the Rose Fighter gets to spend time with the fighters I value most. Bringing talented people together often produces excellent results."
"To be honest, that's what I was hoping for. Especially since your White Wolf has become such a popular topic recently."
"Since we're going to be in the same boat, let's be frank. You think the two of them will make quite a spectacle together, don't you?"
At Berka's question, Doren's lips curved into a smile.
"The Rose Fighter and the White Wolf... If we combine the reputations attached to those names, don't you think the Arena management might give us special consideration? They can't be particularly pleased with Trident monopolizing the victories every year either."
"They're both excellent talents."
Berka returned Doren's knowing smile.
In any case, events were already in motion.
Now was the time to consider what they could gain from them.
After watching Riyan's recent training and successfully securing the Verso Training Center's participation, Berka found himself developing a small measure of confidence.
With this much, we might actually have a chance.
