Chapter 183

Chapter 183: Entering Real Training

Midday, at the training ground of the Daphne Viscounty.

Former Commander Mulgybson was shouting sharply with his eyes gleaming.

"This time, the sea ray! Faster, more precise—put strength in your waist!"

"Haaah!"

Before him, every knight of the Daphne Viscounty—from the Maw Unit to the Jellyfish Unit—thrust their wooden swords forward, dripping with sweat.

The movements of the Wave Swordsmanship that Hardin had taught were being decently replicated through their hands.

And then—

‘Not bad... it’s starting to take shape.’

‘Their speed has improved a lot compared to the beginning.’

Even the knights themselves felt it.

They were gradually becoming more adept at Wave Swordsmanship.

However, from time to time, even as they performed the sword techniques, they couldn't fully grasp certain things.

‘This sword technique… it’s harder than I thought.’

‘Do we really need to increase the speed at that moment? Feels a bit inefficient...’

The wave of the sword, which sank heavily, would at times surge forward again with excessive speed.

Thanks to that, it could unleash destructive, truly wave-like attacks in unpredictable patterns, but...

Because the entire process was so drastically different from other sword styles, it felt unstable.

And while that destructive power was undeniably impressive...

‘It’s too much.’

‘We probably don’t need this level of force just to face another person.’

The more they understood the sword, the more they kept having these thoughts.

Wave Swordsmanship had too much destructive power for mere human opponents.

It almost felt like it was designed not for people, but to destroy boulders or fortress walls.

Because of that, it put a considerable strain on both stamina and mana.

There was a method to overcome this—by using a special Weapon Enchant called "Gyre" that minimized mana loss...

‘But doing all this at once isn’t easy.’

The one who felt this most acutely was none other than former Commander Mulgybson himself, who was teaching the knights this swordsmanship.

‘Is it even right to teach this to everyone?’

For the Young Master, who overflowed with talent and could turn that talent into skill, this was an exceptional sword style.

But for others, it might actually be more of a curse.

‘You wield an inefficient sword to disrupt the opponent’s timing and break them... and you overcome the drawbacks with a difficult mana enchant called Gyre.’

The theory was flawless, but the number of factors to consider along the way made Mulgybson question whether it could realistically be applied in actual combat.

And indeed, problems were beginning to arise—

‘At some point, the knights’ progress has stopped. Even mine.’

It was true their speed and precision had improved significantly compared to when they started.

But they were still nowhere near the level of the sword Hardin had once displayed.

Nevertheless, from some time ago, every knight here—including Mulgybson himself—had hit what felt like a wall. Their skills simply weren’t improving anymore.

Even if they repeated this training for years, there was no confidence it would get any better.

—Bwoooooong! Paaaang!

The motions of the Wave Swordsmanship Hardin had once displayed flashed through Mulgybson’s mind.

That sword—beautiful, nearly perfect, possessing overwhelming destructive power that seemed to create actual waves.

And along with it, he recalled something Hardin had once said.

—This training is going to be tough. Truly miserable. So… I won’t force you. But I promise you one thing. As long as you have the will, I’ll make sure you master Wave Swordsmanship.

Mulgybson closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again.

‘Enough useless thoughts. Right now… I’ll believe in the Young Master’s words.’

He clenched his fist tightly, then thrust his sword again as he shouted.

“Focus more! This time, thirty more of the harbor porpoise!”

“Yes, sir!”

The grueling training continued.

And so... by the time the full moon stood high in the night sky—

“Heeek, heeek, I’m gonna die.”

“My arms are shaking like crazy. I’m done for.”

One after another, the knights threw down their wooden swords, panting heavily.

Their bodies had been wrung dry from a day of constant sword drills, and they were all close to collapse.

Watching this, Mulgybson also readjusted his grip on his wooden sword and spoke.

“That’s it for today’s training. Everyone, go rest and don’t be late tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your efforts.”

As everyone started cleaning up and getting ready to leave—

“Hold it right there!”

A familiar voice called out from a distance, freezing everyone in place.

When they turned their heads one by one, they saw a carriage parked nearby, its bed loaded with wooden crates...

Thunk!

Hardin stepped down from the driver’s seat and approached them.

“Y-Young Master?”

Startled, Mulgybson was the first to greet him.

Hardin gave a broad grin and said,

“Ah, great work, everyone.”

“N-No, not at all. But… what’s with the carriage?”

“Oh, that? I brought some things to use for training.”

“Training… equipment?”

“Yeah.”

Tilting his head to the side, Hardin gestured toward the knights and said,

“You guys, head to the storage and each grab a shovel.”

“A shovel? Right now?”

“But today’s training is already over…”

When uneasy expressions appeared on the knights’ faces, Hardin stomped the ground with a thud and said,

“Now!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

A moment later, the knights returned with shovels in hand.

Hardin gave a meaningful smile, then drew a circle on the ground of the training ground with the tip of his foot and said,

“Now that everyone’s here, start digging. One hole per person. This big should be enough.”

“Dig a hole? At this hour of the night?”

“That’s right. Hurry up. You planning to stay up all night?”

“Ugh… Understood.”

What the hell was going on all of a sudden?

Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow…?

Thud! Thud!

Though they grumbled, the knights infused their shovels with mana and started digging.

With years of experience, they all knew one thing well.

Once Hardin acted like this, fussing and complaining only dragged things out… doing what he said was the fastest way to get it over with.

Roughly 20 to 30 minutes passed.

“All done.”

“Whew… is this good enough, Young Master?”

“Yeah, this should do.”

Hardin nodded, then gave his next instruction.

“Now each of you go grab one of those crates over there and lower it into your hole.”

“…Yes, sir.”

What the hell was this now?

The knights sighed heavily as they hoisted a wooden crate from the carriage bed onto their shoulders and moved it to their holes.

“What’s that smell?”

“Uugh… Don’t tell me there’s crap in here or something?”

Thunk!

Once the crates were neatly placed into the holes, Hardin crossed his arms and said,

“From now on, you’ll use Wave Swordsmanship on the friends inside those boxes. Use only Wave Swordsmanship with your wooden swords to take them down. Do that, and your training will be over.”

At that moment, Mikkelsen, who was standing in one of the holes, scratched his forehead and asked,

“…Friends? What’s in here?”

“If you’re that curious, open it.”

Tch. Would it kill him to just tell us?

Mikkelsen trudged over, pried out the nails from the crate, and opened the lid.

And then—

“Huh?”

Mikkelsen’s eyes widened as if they were about to pop out of his skull, and he froze on the spot.

Inside was a monster in human form.

Maggots were writhing in its eyes, and its muscular, gray-toned body exuded a threatening presence just from appearance alone.

“G-Ghast?!”

It happened in an instant.

Kyaaaaah!

The Ghast rose to its feet and lunged straight at Mikkelsen.

“Uwaaah! Wh-What is this?!”

“It’s a Ghast!”

Screams erupted from the other holes at the same time.

Mikkelsen urgently yanked out his wooden sword from his belt—

Baaang!

—and smashed the Ghast charging at him right in the head, shouting,

“W-What the hell is this?! Young Masteeer!”

“I told you. It’s training.”

“No, what kind of training is this?!”

“What else? Live training.”

A sly grin crept up Hardin’s lips.

‘You guys were hitting the limit with scarecrows anyway.’

The essence of Wave Swordsmanship.

To someone unfamiliar with sword techniques, a “secret manual” might sound incredibly difficult and complex.

But no matter how mysterious a secret technique is, it still functions within the larger framework of swordsmanship.

When broken down into individual movements, even a third-rate swordsman can mimic and reproduce them—it’s not impossible.

That’s why the difference in the knights’ skills didn’t come from the swordsmanship technique itself, but rather from how thoroughly they could polish and refine it.

The real issue with that level of refinement was...

‘It has to be usable in real combat.’

Every single moment.

Every single strike.

Every single footstep.

Even something as basic as breathing...

All of it had to become second nature, etched into the body, before one could truly say they had mastered the sword.

Without that foundation, merely mimicking the sword technique poorly was worse than learning some third-rate street-fighting sword style.

In other words, the best way to master Wave Swordsmanship was through actual combat. And if that combat involved not just human opponents, but monsters—creatures beyond humans—then the effectiveness would increase even more.

And as for the best possible training opponent under those conditions...

‘Nothing beats a Ghast.’

Kyaaaah!

“You bastard! Stop lunging at me already!”

Even after taking blows from Mikkelsen’s counterattacks, the Ghast didn’t falter and continued charging in.

As if it cared nothing for its own life or pain.

It looked like a being driven solely by the desire to kill and devour its opponent, no matter what.

And that trait...

‘Is exactly like a monster.’

That was why nothing beat a Ghast when it came to training for fighting monsters with this sword technique.

“Stay sharp, all of you! You’re only allowed to use Wave Swordsmanship against them!”

Hardin shouted with a crisp, commanding voice, arms crossed.

“Aaaargh!”

“Y-Young Master! This thing won’t go down!”

From the dozens of holes dug into the training ground, the knights’ screams rang out in chorus.

---

At that same moment, in the heart of the city.

Inside a large blacksmith’s workshop, Malion and Mulgybson stood still, waiting.

Across from them, a grumpy-looking blacksmith with a sour expression was glaring at them with an air of strictness.

“My lord, how many times must I tell you? To craft swords of this level... you’ll have to pay at least fifty thousand gold per sword. Do you think magic stones are cheap? Not to mention how difficult the entire process is!”

“Come now, I’m only asking for half off. I’m ordering seventy at once—can’t you cut me some slack?”

“Half off? What do you think I am, a swindler? And seventy isn’t even that many. If you don’t like the price... then just leave.”

The blacksmith waved his hand dismissively.

Watching silently from the side, Engelmann gave Malion a bitter smile and said,

“Third Young Master, must we really buy this particular sword? There seem to be plenty of other good ones. Those would be far cheaper.”

“Exactly! That’s what I’m saying too, isn’t it?”

The blacksmith nodded deeply, as if fully agreeing with Engelmann’s words.

The sword Malion had requested was made by forging a blade with a mix of magic stone and iron ore… and on top of that, it had channels carved into it to allow mana to flow through.

Not only were the magic stones themselves incredibly expensive, but embedding mana circuits in the middle was an extremely difficult process—even for a seasoned blacksmith, it was a daunting task.

However—

“This sword. It has to be this one.”

Despite the advice given to him, Malion answered firmly.

Because…

—Get this sword made and delivered by the deadline, no matter what. If you do that… I’ll take care of the countship and everything else.

—Do you mean it?

—Have I ever lied to you?

It was because of the promise he’d made with Hardin.

The slight issue was… this custom sword was outrageously expensive.

Fifty thousand gold per sword. Ordering seventy of them meant 3.5 million gold.

Even if the current Daphne House was raking in money hand over fist, it was undeniably a massive financial burden.

“Phew. If you’re going to keep being stubborn, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got plenty of other jobs to keep me busy.”

Just as the blacksmith turned to walk away for good, Malion quickly grabbed his shoulder and blurted out urgently,

“W-Wait a moment! Then… how about forty thousand gold?”

“You’re still not done haggling?”

“I must get these swords made! So please… won’t you do this for me?”

Malion’s expression was pitiful—enough to stir some sympathy.

But behind that face…

‘If it doesn’t work, I’ll just keep pushing until it does.’

Malion’s sheer will to carry out Hardin’s order—or rather, his request—was boiling beneath the surface.