The students of the Knight Faculty of the Academy stared at the scene before them in utter shock. The corner of the training grounds where Patrick and Matthew always trained. One more person had been added there.
“Look at your legs trembling. If you're not going to do it right, then quit.”
"Hnng.... Ughh..."
It was Isabella. As if to defy Patrick’s words, she forced her trembling legs to straighten. A burning pain as if her thighs were on fire, and cold sweat pouring down her entire body like rain.
It was a kind of pain she had never once experienced in her life.
“Aha?
Trying to use your aura again?"
“Aaaaaaaah!”
Isabella, who always maintained a calm and cold demeanor, let out a scream. Then, looking at Patrick with pitiful eyes, she said.
“You……. It's too hard. This is….”
Tears welled in her eyes. A pitiful gaze. A frail voice, on the verge of fading away.
In all her life, this was the first time Isabella had ever pleaded and begged a man with such a pitiful look.
But…
“Training isn't training unless it's hard. Where do you think you're going, looking for the easy way? You think training is a joke?”
“…”
His words were meant for someone who would listen. The fact that his words were true made her feel all the more miserable. Next to her, Matthew was still holding on with a look that suggested he could manage, but he wore a deeply apologetic expression.
'Princess, why are you bringing this suffering upon yourself?' He was here because he had no other path, but why was the princess, the top student of the third year, doing this?
“What in the world is going on over there?”
“I don’t know either. Why is the princess....”
“Don't tell me she's learning from Patrick right now?”
“Crazy, the princess is a third-year, isn't she?”
“That’s true, but….”
The first-years watched Matthew and Isabella receiving training from Patrick, still doubting their eyes. In truth, they could understand Matthew being trained by Patrick. Although the training itself was nothing more than brutish physical conditioning, the one receiving it was Matthew, who was clearly the weakest among the first-years.
It was a training regimen that bordered on 99 percent bullying, but it was still plausible for the weak to be trained by the strong. But Isabella was a different story. She was a third-year.
Moreover, she was the top student among the third-years. For her to be trained by Patrick, a first-year, carried a very different meaning. 'Don't tell me... he's stronger than the Princess?'
How could a first-year... 'Then was it true that he defeated the third-year, Jordic Panola?' 'Is he that strong?
Strong enough for the top student of the third-years to ask for his teachings?' It felt a bit late to be saying this now, but the first-years had no idea just how strong Patrick was. Of course, they thought he must be quite strong.
As soon as he enrolled, he had defeated Roist, a standout talent among the first-years, almost playfully. After that, he also defeated the third-year Jordic Panola. There was even a strange rumor that Jordic Panola had lost despite using his family's heirloom, Isis.
Since it seemed too absurd, the first-years didn't believe it. But they suspected that Patrick must be strong enough for such a rumor to even exist. They even thought he might be the strongest among the first-years.
But....
“If Princess Isabella, the top student of the third-years, is seeking his guidance like that, just how strong is he?”
“No, wait a minute. Does that even have anything to do with swordsmanship? It’s just physical training, isn't it?”
“That’s right. What’s the point of physical training for us who use aura?”
“That’s wrong. If you could get stronger just by physical training like that, then soldiers should be stronger than knights.”
They were passionately debating Patrick's skill and the meaning of the brutish physical training they were witnessing. And Patrick heard it all.
'Fools….'
Physical training is meaningless? You can just strengthen your body with aura? 'That's why you lot are in the state you're in.'
Patrick smiled bitterly. Of course, Patrick didn't think physical training was a cure-all. But his purpose in making Matthew and Isabella do the horse stance with heavy bags until their legs trembled was singular.
Harmony.
Using energy to strengthen the body allows one to exhibit physical abilities that surpass muscular strength. That was an undeniable fact. But to ask if physical training was meaningless, that was a foolish thing to say.
Using energy to enhance physical abilities was, in the end, just an enhancement. It wasn't creating something from nothing; it was strengthening the existing foundation, the body. Naturally, if that foundation was good, one could exert greater power with less energy.
To neglect that and believe that only training one's aura was the answer was extremely inefficient. In fact, he could somewhat understand why they came to think this way. 'They've had it too easy.'
Patrick suddenly opened his energy sense and felt the surrounding energy. It was filled with the pure energy of mother nature, with a density several times greater than that of the Central Plains.
In other words, those who trained their aura here were all, in the terms of the Central Plains, circulating their energy as if they had obtained a great fortune. That's why it was relatively easy to train aura.
The reason why individuals who reached the seven-star level occasionally appeared, despite the Aura Blessing of this world not being of a high standard and their understanding of meridians being practically nonexistent, was thanks to this density of energy.
Because they could accumulate aura so easily in this blessed environment, their overall deep contemplation of martial arts had fallen far behind. 'Tsk, if I were to explain the importance of the harmony of essence, energy, and spirit, would you even understand? It would be easier to grab a passing Troll and teach it the Hundred Steps Divine Fist.'
In the end, there was only one choice Patrick could make.
[Just do as you're told!]
He would just make them do it. To balance their energy and spirit, he would train their lacking bodies and force them into harmony. Of course, it would be less effective than if they trained with a full awareness of the purpose, but at least they could achieve balance.
“So, there’s a reason I’m conducting this training in such a high-handed manner, you see.”
“What… are you talking about?”
“Oh, look at our Matthew, so relaxed? You've improved quite a bit, haven't you?”
“Hehehe....”
“Then let’s add more weight.”
"Heyyyy!"
Patrick smiled nonchalantly and added more sandbags to Matthew’s shoulders. And the result of whether this training method of Patrick's was effective or not would soon be known. Because the grade evaluation exams were about to begin.
The Knight Faculty held exams twice a year. The mid-term evaluation, held just before vacation. The year-end evaluation, which determined whether a student would repeat or be promoted.
Between these two exams, the more important one was naturally the year-end evaluation. Failing it meant not being promoted to the next grade and having to repeat the year, so it was a matter of course. Did that mean the mid-term evaluation was unimportant?
Not at all. Students who failed to meet a certain standard in the mid-term evaluation had to go straight home. In other words, they were expelled.
In reality, about a third of the first-years fail to overcome the wall of this mid-term evaluation and return home. Naturally, the students were well aware of the exam's importance and prepared for it with all their might.
And....
"Hey, are you okay?"
"I... I-I-I... I'm fine."
“You don’t look fine at all.”
A trembling voice, a restless expression, and a body that shivered nonstop as if standing naked in the dead of winter. The person displaying all the classic signs of nervousness was none other than Matthew. Isabella approached him and said.
“Cheer up.”
“Prin… Princess.”
"You can do it."
“... Yes. Yes.”
Matthew nodded his head as if he were overwhelmed with gratitude. Patrick said to Isabella.
“Aren't you taking the exam, senior?”
“The top student of the year is exempt from the mid-term evaluation.”
“Ooh, there’s a perk like that? Maybe I should try to take the top spot myself?”
Patrick spoke as if he could take the top spot at the academy anytime he wanted. In truth, he wasn't wrong. He wasn't, but…
'So annoying.'
Isabella looked at Patrick with a sullen expression. It was always annoying to see a smart kid acting relaxed before an exam. In any case, Patrick was fine.
He was the type of person who would grab a professor by the collar to get promoted if he ever failed an exam. The important one was Matthew. For the sake of Matthew's promotion, who had endured Patrick’s harsh training with her for a short time, Isabella spoke.
“I will be observing. Then there won’t be anything unfair.”
“Ah… ah… yes. Thank you.”
“All that's left is your skill.”
“Yes. …Thank you.”
Isabella let out a sigh. No matter how she looked at it, he was too nervous. At this rate, would he even be able to display the skills he possessed?
"Will he be okay?"
"He'll be fine. It's fine."
"Really?"
"What can we do if he's not fine at this point?"
“…”
That was true. As they were chatting, the professors entered the training grounds and said.
“All first-years, assemble!”
At the command, Patrick, Matthew, and the other first-years lined up in front of the professors, and Isabella moved to the spectator seats. The professors addressed the assembled first-years.
“We will now begin the mid-term evaluation. The content of the exam is 10-person sparring.”
The first-years stirred as the content of the exam was revealed. The professor's explanation continued.
“There will be a total of 10 matches. As a result, anyone with more losses than wins will be considered to have failed.”
The first-years murmured at the professor’s words. It meant they had to fight ten times and win at least five to avoid expulsion.
That meant....
'Half of us might get eliminated.' 'This year's exam is even harsher, huh?' 'Luck will be important too.'
Holding 10 consecutive matches meant they were evaluating stamina as well as skill. If one met a strong opponent early on and exhausted their strength, the later matches could become difficult. Therefore, it was advantageous to be matched with a weaker opponent.
In that instant, the eyes of all the first-years turned to one person.
“Oh....”
Matthew unconsciously hunched his shoulders at the gazes pouring onto him. He felt like a lone sheep thrown into a pack of wolves. He could feel all too clearly that his peers were looking at him as an easy sacrifice for one win.
“Shoulders back. Head up.”
“Patrick….”
“Tsk, if you lose the battle of wills, the actual fight becomes harder too. Pretending to be strong is also a skill.”
“How is that a skill….”
Seeing Matthew grumbling, Patrick let out a small sigh. 'Well, I suppose you need a minimal foundation to put on a brave face.' Matthew's most serious weakness was his lack of confidence.
He had essentially gotten into the academy through a massive donation, and his skills were the weakest among the first-years. So, it was understandable that he lacked confidence. 'He'll feel a bit better once he gets a result through his own strength.'
In the end, what was needed in times like these was not the easy encouragement that came from others' lips. What was needed was a victory achieved with his own hands. The exam began.
The center of the training grounds, which everyone usually used together, was cleared out, and the first-years went up one by one to begin their matches.
“Haaaah!”
“Uwaaaah!”
Clack! Clack-clack-clack!
Wooden swords clashed violently as two first-year students fiercely sought an opening in their opponent. Both had reached the two-star level, so they enhanced their physical abilities to display a level of strength and speed that ordinary people could not.
However…
“Their stances are a mess.”
“Their lack of real combat experience is showing. The shifting of their center of gravity is slow.”
“Their approach is too passive as well. That’s not being cautious, it’s being timid.”
In the eyes of the professors, all the shortcomings of the first-year students were visible. In truth, reaching the two-star level at a young age made them talents by common standards, but in the eyes of the professors who nurtured the talents of the academy, they were nothing more than average.
“Chaaat!”
Thwack!
In the end, one of them retreated from a powerful swing, and their wooden sword flew high into the air. Once the victor and loser were decided, the winner smiled in relief, and the loser went down with a frustrated expression. Then, the professor called out the next opponents.
“Matthew, Butler Bering, come up.”
“Yes!”
“Yeeees.”
A powerful voice and a sound like a bleating goat were heard. It was Matthew's voice, cracked from extreme nervousness.
“Woooow…. Lucky him.”
“He got a freebie.”
“Too bad. I should have been the one to go.”
The other first-years watched and envied the first-year named Butler. They all wanted to fight Matthew, the easiest opponent. And Butler, too, had a broad smile on his face.
'Yesss, I must be living a good life to receive such fortune. Thank you, Goddess Eupinel.' The two faced each other and raised their wooden swords.
“Both of you, fight fairly according to the code of knighthood. Greet each other!”
Following the professor's command, Butler and Matthew bowed to each other.
And…
“Begin!”
The moment the start signal was given, Butler charged forward menacingly. 'Sorry, but let's end this quickly.' To get through all ten matches, it was important to conserve stamina.
He had no particular ill will towards Matthew, but he thought it was best to finish him off quickly. A sharp diagonal slash flew towards Matthew's left shoulder as he moved forward. Butler was certain of his success.
But…. Thwack!
'Oh, he blocked it?' Butler was slightly surprised to see Matthew block his wooden sword. Had he underestimated him too much?
He hadn't expected him to block his attack. But that was fine. Now that their swords were locked, he could just crush him with the difference in strength.
“Here I cooome!”
With a powerful shout, Butler's aura halls spread throughout his body, adding strength to him. In that state, Butler forcefully pushed Matthew, intending to drive him into a corner of the training grounds… but.
"Hn?"
Something was strange. Even though he was pushing with all his might, Matthew's wooden sword wasn't pushed back in the slightest. No, in fact...
Screeeech...
Slowly, bit by bit, he was adding more strength, and it was Butler's wooden sword that was being pushed back.
“Kghh… You….”
“... Huh?”
Butler, who was gritting his teeth and exerting all his strength, saw it in that moment. The dumbfounded expression on Matthew's face, as if he couldn't believe this situation any more than Butler could.