Chapter 25
"Aaaaaaaah!"
"Haaaaaah!"
Wooden swords cut rapidly through the air alongside fierce shouts.
One trainee after another.
Every one of them felt different from before.
"Don't block it! Redirect it! Like Theron taught us!"
"Back foot! Put the strength into your back foot!"
Throughout the training ground...
Trainees corrected one another's stances.
Not long ago...
Such a sight would have been impossible.
To trainees of Hell Island...
A person beside them was someone they would eventually need to step on.
Teaching someone else a trick you understood...
Was almost the same as placing a blade against your own throat.
But after Section Five took first place in the second test...
More precisely...
After Theron casually began sharing his own techniques...
The section slowly but definitely changed.
Their meal grade rose.
Their trays became fuller.
Training quality increased.
Their eyes became alive.
And they began understanding something with their own bodies.
A stronger comrade in the same section was not a loss.
It was another path to climb higher.
Perhaps because of that...
The small groups and constant arguments that once filled Section Five had mostly disappeared.
Everyone here was learning an entirely new experience.
However...
Not everyone accepted the change.
"...Look at that."
In a corner of the training ground...
Palcoat stood with folded arms, glaring at everyone else.
Theron.
Just thinking about that name made the scar across his back seem to ache.
The punishment he had suffered because of him.
The sensation of a whip tearing into flesh.
The damp darkness of the punishment room.
Yet worse than all of that...
Was the fact that Section Five, once beneath Palcoat's feet, now revolved around Theron.
"Brother."
Valk carefully spoke beside him.
"What?"
"That thing about putting power into the back leg..."
Valk hesitated.
"Everyone says just learning that changed their blocking completely."
"So?"
"We could... learn it too."
He scratched his cheek.
"It wouldn't hurt with the next test coming."
"Valk."
Palcoat's voice became low.
"Are you telling me to lower my head and go ask that bastard?"
"Th-That's not..."
"Then shut up."
Palcoat glared.
"Unless you want to die."
Valk closed his mouth.
Palcoat noticed something.
Even with his head lowered...
Valk's eyes were still looking toward the other trainees.
His heart was already halfway over there.
Damn it.
Something boiled inside Palcoat.
At this rate...
He felt like he would become completely irrelevant.
I have to...
Change this atmosphere again.
Palcoat stared toward the others training.
"Today we're mixing pairs!"
Bengle's voice echoed across the Section Five training ground.
"Fight people you don't usually practice with!"
Ever since they took first place...
A new confidence had entered Bengle's voice.
The moment the order came...
"Hey."
Palcoat walked forward with a wooden sword resting on his shoulder.
He stopped directly in front of Theron.
"Fight me."
The training ground instantly became quiet.
Every trainee looked toward them.
No one in Section Five could forget the bad blood between those two.
"...Brother, why him of all people..."
Valk covered his face.
Theron silently looked at Palcoat.
Burning eyes.
Raw hostility.
Not even an attempt to hide it.
...Fine.
Rot eventually burst.
If it needed to burst...
Sooner was better.
Meanwhile...
Palcoat glared at Theron like he wanted to kill him.
I only need to defeat him.
Then I can take Section Five back.
Everyone around them swallowed nervously.
The confrontation everyone expected had finally arrived.
"...Fine."
Theron nodded and stood opposite Palcoat.
Bengle approached.
He also knew.
How could he not?
Ever since the first test...
Ever since Palcoat returned from punishment...
He had constantly stared at Theron with hatred.
In some ways...
Bengle thought this was better.
"Both ready?"
"Yes."
"Ready."
Bengle stepped backward.
And at that exact moment...
"Aaaaaah!"
Palcoat charged.
A frontal downward strike.
No tricks.
Only body weight and raw strength.
WHOOSH!
Theron moved half a step backward and redirected it.
BOOM!
Palcoat's wooden sword struck the ground and sent dust into the air.
"You bastard...!"
Palcoat attacked again.
Horizontal slash.
Shoulder strike.
Another downward swing.
Every attack was heavy.
Every attack was honest.
Theron redirected all of them by the difference of half a step.
"Are you just going to run away?!"
"Not yet."
"What?!"
"I haven't seen everything yet."
Those words poured oil onto the fire.
"You bastard!"
BOOM! BOOM!
Palcoat's sword stormed forward.
Ten exchanges.
Twenty.
The surrounding trainees unconsciously swallowed.
Anyone could see Palcoat attacking furiously.
But they also saw something else.
Inside that storm...
Palcoat's weapon had not touched even Theron's clothes.
Theron walked through the rain of blows and calmly studied his opponent.
His strength is among the best in Section Five.
His build was naturally strong.
But...
His sword was being consumed by that strength.
Wide swings.
Large openings.
After every attack, his shoulders stiffened.
The next movement always became half a beat slower.
Wasteful.
In his previous life...
Theron would never have paid attention to someone like this.
People of this type stepped on each other and disappeared before even reaching the final test.
Theron could not remember whether Palcoat had been one of them.
He had probably died as one of countless names not worth remembering.
But this time...
If Theron wanted to change everything ahead...
I should be able to change him too.
Theron's gaze became calm.
"Haaaaaah!"
Palcoat's full-power downward swing descended.
This time...
Theron did not redirect it.
He stepped half a pace inward and raised his own weapon.
CLACK!
"Ugh!"
Palcoat's sword flew upward.
His chest became completely exposed.
Theron's wooden sword lightly touched the center.
