Near the forest at the southern edge of the village.
As Doroen had said, the hut was hard to find.
I thought it would be easy since it was supposedly at the southern edge of the village, but only after walking for quite some time did something begin to appear between the trees.
It was a small, shabby hut.
Truly, no matter how I looked at it, it didn’t seem like a place where someone lived.
An old wooden axe leaned by the door, and beside it lay a scattered pile of firewood covered in moss.
“...Does he really live here?”
Still, Doroen wasn’t the kind of person to talk nonsense.
I hugged the bundle to my chest and stood before the door.
Wait. One deep breath first.
Thud. Thud.
“Is anyone there?”
I knocked on the door.
I sensed no presence inside.
After waiting a moment, I knocked again.
“Excuse me. Mr. Doroen asked me to bring you some meat and bread!”
When I spoke a little louder, something creaked and shifted inside.
Creeeak.
Soon, the old wooden door opened just a crack, revealing half of a face through the gap.
His gray-brown hair was disheveled and covered his brows, and rough stubble clung to his cheeks and chin.
His shoulders drooped, and because of his thin frame, his clothes looked loose on him.
He looked like a typical old man from the countryside.
But there was one thing different.
His eyes.
The moment I met that gaze, my body instinctively stiffened.
...So I’d found the right one.
“Doroen sent you?”
A hoarse voice in a low register.
I held up the bundle.
“Yes. He told me to give you this. He also asked me to send his regards.”
At those words, the man’s eyes wavered, very briefly and very slightly.
Then the door opened a little wider.
“...Leave it and go.”
“Actually, there’s one more thing I’d like to ask you...”
“......”
“I want to learn the sword.”
He looked me up and down.
His gaze was suspicious.
No, it was closer to annoyance.
“...Aren’t you a mage?”
“Pardon?”
I asked back, bewildered.
It wasn’t as if my appearance particularly marked me as a mage.
I’d deliberately left my staff behind, and I wasn’t wearing a robe.
Just an ordinary shirt and trousers.
His voice came again from beyond the crack in the door.
“Those eyes... and those hands. That’s exactly how those who use magic are. Hands that have never needed to hold a sword.”
I unconsciously looked down at my hands.
No scars, no calluses.
Hands that might be useful for writing or eating, but had no talent whatsoever for fighting.
The fact that he’d recognized that at a glance meant—
“...You really were a knight.”
From beyond the door came the sound of a faint breath.
Was it a laugh, or a scoff?
He was silent for a moment, then spoke calmly.
“You’re the first mage who’s ever come to me saying he wants to learn the sword.”
“...I hope you’ll take that to mean I’m that desperate.”
At my words, the door closed just as it was.
This time, there was a click as the latch was locked.
I hadn’t expected much.
Even if he refused, I wanted to try as much as I could until the very end.
Just as I was about to knock again, his voice came from beyond the door.
“...Tomorrow at dawn. If you don’t come before the rooster crows, you get no chance.”
I stopped for a moment at those words, then smiled faintly.
I didn’t know when the roosters in this village crowed, but even so, this was clearly an invitation.
“...Thank you.”
Leaving only those words behind, I turned away from the hut.
On the way back, the scent of dry grass brushed the tip of my nose again.
What would a former knight teach me, I wondered.
No, more importantly, how hard would he work me?
That was what worried me more.
***
The next dawn, I raised myself up before my eyes had even fully opened.
I was quietly anxious that a rooster might crow before I got there.
Fortunately, the village was still quiet.
Through the thick mist, only the occasional sound of birds could be heard.
The hut was still in the same place.
The door was closed, and not a single light leaked out.
Was he still asleep, or did he simply never light one to begin with?
In any case, I stood before the door.
“I’m here.”
A brief silence passed.
There was no sound from inside.
Then, before long, a creak.
The old man’s face I’d seen yesterday appeared again through the gap.
“...You’re earlier than I thought. Come in.”
After saying that, he turned his back.
I followed him into the hut.
“Sir Brigan... would that be all right?”
“Tch, what do you mean, sir? Just call me Mr. Brigan.”
The inside of the hut was far simpler than I’d expected.
One table, with a few wooden bowls sitting on it by themselves.
In the corner stood an old wardrobe, and two small shelves caught my eye on the wall.
There was almost nothing that could be called signs of life.
Rather than a house someone lived in, it was closer to a place where one simply slept.
“Don’t sit. We’re going out soon.”
Mr. Brigan added that as he opened the wardrobe and took out a long cloth bundle.
Whatever was inside, the bundle rattled with a heavy sound.
When he untied the knot, several wooden swords with worn handles were revealed.
Strangely, Mr. Brigan put all the wooden swords down and picked up only the cloth.
Lightly dusting it off, he quietly asked,
“Have you ever properly held a sword?”
“...No.”
“Good. Then you won’t be thinking of doing anything foolish.”
Mr. Brigan murmured quietly, picked up the most worn wooden sword, and threw it to me.
I hurriedly caught it with both hands.
“Ugh.”
It was heavy. Far heavier than I’d expected.
“A sword is a tool for cutting people, and the body that handles it is the same.”
After finishing those words, he walked outside without another word.
When we stepped outside, the sun had not yet risen, so it was dark.
Gray mist wrapped around my ankles, and the ground was damp.
He stopped at the edge of the yard and drew a line in the earth.
“We start here. First, we build the body.”
After saying that, he quietly began scooping dirt into the cloth.
He handed it to me and spoke calmly.
“Carry this and run down to the bottom of the hill, then come back up. Five times.”
...I knew it.
I quietly hugged the sandbag and started down the hill.
The first few steps were fine. But my breathing soon grew ragged.
The heavy weight pressed down on my shoulders, and my thighs ached as if they might scream at any moment.
On top of that, the wound on my arm hadn’t fully healed yet, so I wondered if this was really okay.
“If you want to quit, say so now. Then you can go back right away.”
Those words sounded strangely tempting.
The thought, Should I? flashed through my mind, but I didn’t stop walking.
This wasn’t simple training.
In this world, with this body, I could accomplish something.
This was the time to prove that to myself.
“Hah... hah... hoo!”
I steadied my breath again and held the sandbag tight.
Then I went down the hill once more.
This time, I came back up a little faster.
Mr. Brigan watched me in silence, expressionless.
That made me even more conscious of him.
How did I look right now?
My legs were gradually losing all sensation, and my lungs burned as if they’d caught fire.
Even so, strangely, the thought that I could do it didn’t disappear.
“Hah... hah... hah...”
In the end, I completed the fifth round trip.
My breath rose all the way to my throat.
I wanted to fall to my knees.
Honestly, I wanted to just lie sprawled on the ground.
But then he spoke first.
I thought I could finally rest.
“Good. Now for the next training.”
The words rose all the way to my throat, but I simply exhaled.
***
Before I knew it, the sun had climbed to the ridgeline.
“Hah... hah... cough! Kgh!”
Every breath I inhaled through my nose scraped roughly against my vocal cords like grains of sand.
“Cough! Cough, cough!”
From morning until now, an unheard-of training routine had continued without even a moment to catch my breath.
Only when my body reached its limit and my vision began to turn yellow was I finally able to stop.
No one said the training was over.
But seeing as Mr. Brigan was quiet, it seemed it really was over at last.
Thud.
I sank to the ground as if collapsing.
Sweat streamed down my back like rain, and all strength had left my hands, so I couldn’t even properly hold a cup of water.
As I condensed water to wet my throat, he quietly approached and looked down at me.
There was no particular emotion, nor any encouragement.
“You endure better than I expected.”
A single remark, tossed out flatly.
Should I call that praise, or simply a calm observation?
Well, it didn’t feel bad.
“Phew...”
I caught my breath and looked at the ground.
Sweat dripped onto the already damp earth.
“You should eat, at least. I can’t starve you to death.”
Mr. Brigan said that and headed toward the hut.
I still didn’t have the strength to stand, so I remained sitting there in a daze for a long while.
My body was exhausted, and my legs were trembling... but my mind felt somewhat refreshed.
It felt as though I had overcome something very small.
As if my useless body had been shaped properly, if only a little.
Of course, if he told me to repeat this again tomorrow, I felt like I might die.
Still, at least today, I’d done it.
Just as I was steadying my breath with that single thought, a wooden basket dropped with a thump in front of me.
“Eat. Before it gets cold.”
He said it indifferently as he sat down in front of me.
Inside the basket were two lumps of barley bread and a wooden bowl filled with a modest vegetable stew.
Compared to the contents of the training, the meal was a bit disappointing... but right now, I felt like I could swallow anything.
Like someone who’d starved for days, I chewed and swallowed the barley bread greedily.
It was hard and dry, yet strangely delicious.
I drank the soup almost as if it were water.
Mr. Brigan quietly watched me while eating his stew without a word.
“With that body, you still have a long way to go.”
It was abrupt.
But strangely, I didn’t feel bad.
Rather, those words sounded like an accurate diagnosis of my current condition.
“Tomorrow will be harder.”
Mr. Brigan put down his spoon as he spoke.
“So sleep as much as you can today. Though you probably won’t have the strength to get up anyway.”
Instead of answering, I took another bite of bread.
Tomorrow would be harder—just hearing it made my insides feel heavy... but still, I thought I understood.
That this hardship would one day change me.
Mr. Brigan rose from his seat.
As his footsteps moved away, I drank down the last of the stew.
Only then did my stomach finally grow warm.
I looked up at the sky.
In the middle of the blue sky, the sun floated as if it had stopped.
For the first time since coming here, a day felt this long.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Today, I wanted to rest a little longer.
“Get up. If you’re done eating, we need to start training.”
...This crazy bastard.
***
Two days had passed since training began like that.
My body steadily broke down, and muscle pain visited faithfully.
But compared to yesterday, my arms trembled less, and the hand gripping the sword had gained a little feeling.
That day, too, after finishing the morning training, I was finally catching my breath while sitting on the ground.
“Hey, get up. I brought the kids!”
What was that noisy voice?
When I raised my head, it was Mr. Brigan, who had said he was going to the village.
Behind him followed the members of the Baret Mercenary Corps, who had returned yesterday.
“...Why those people? Don’t tell me—”
“They were loitering around the village, so I brought them. I happened to need sparring partners, so it worked out well.”
Mr. Brigan answered with a shrug.
...This eccentric old man.
I’d seen all three of their faces before, but they weren’t exactly friendly.
Mr. Brigan said,
“Starting today, it’s practical training. Have fun.”
“...Wait a moment. At least give me a weapon—”
“Well, a wooden sword should be enough.”
Mr. Brigan ignored my words and stepped far back with his hands clasped behind him.
Training was hard enough already, and now I even had spectators.
I raised the wooden sword.
My body felt heavy, but what could I do?
This damned thing called training couldn’t possibly have even one easy day.
“Oh, and by the way, if you lose, there’s no dinner.”
...And I didn’t want to starve.
***
Including practical training, it was now the fifth day since I’d begun training.
Every day, Mr. Brigan brought one or two members of the Baret Mercenary Corps.
I crossed wooden swords with them in turns, and the results were disastrous.
My record so far was 23 matches, 0 wins, 21 losses, and 2 draws.
I was nothing more than a punching bag.
Getting hit is my role. Collapsing is my role, too.
At this point, I wasn’t even sure where the line between torture and training was supposed to be.
Even so, strangely enough, my body was getting used to it little by little.
I was exhausted, but I could endure enough not to collapse.
And the hand gripping my sword was gradually gaining more feeling, too.
Most of all, I was in better condition today than usual.
Today, I’m definitely going to win…
“Today, I’ll be generous and give you the chance to choose your opponent.”
Mr. Brigan spoke in his usual sarcastic tone.
“As for the reward, we’ll talk after you win.”
The training that had started with just me had, at some point, turned into joint training with the Barrett Mercenary Corps.
Now it wasn’t just them fighting me; the mercenaries were sparring with each other as well.
I’d heard Mr. Brigan was the sort of person who lived alone… Had he found some late-blooming enthusiasm?
In any case, among them was one guy who, like me, boasted a record close to total defeat.
His name was “Piren,” my so-called comrade in loss.
“That guy.”
I pointed at him with my hand.
Piren turned around with a flustered look.
“…Me? No, you mean me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“No, my back’s not feeling good today—”
“Shut up and get out here.”
Mr. Brigan shoved him lightly in the back and pushed Piren forward.
Reluctantly, he picked up a wooden sword.
He looked less like he was going to fight and more like he was going to get an injection.
Facing each other, we slowly moved our feet toward one another.
It wasn’t as if we had matched our breathing, but somehow, our tempo aligned.
Thud!
The first clash.
Our swords struck each other lightly.
With the blades tangled together, we entered a contest of strength.
Creak. Creeeak.
Had I pushed my sword out too far?
Taking advantage of the moment my center of gravity leaned slightly forward, Piren loosened his strength just a little and broke my balance.
Then his sword immediately came surging up toward my neck.
That should have ended it in a single blow.
But today, my body reacted differently.
Whoosh—
Thanks to my quick evasion, the strike cut through empty air.
His gaze, the angle of his hand, the tension in his arm.
My eyes were reading all of it, and my hands responded naturally.
Thud! Clack! Tok!
We collided a few more times, then widened the distance between us.
Piren narrowed his eyes and adjusted his stance.
I caught my breath and raised my wooden sword again.
And just as Piren stepped forward and was about to swing—
My body moved first, a beat faster.
An opening.
I thrust my sword toward the space beneath Piren’s elbow as he aimed for my head.
Whack.
“Argh!”
The wooden sword struck Piren’s wrist dead-on.
The sword flew from his hand into the air.
Thud—clatter!
The sound of the wooden sword dropping to the ground rang out.
A brief silence fell.
Then someone swallowed a laugh, and immediately after, cheers erupted.
“Haha, Piren! Now you’re losing even to the mage!”
“Wow, you’re especially sharp today, aren’t you?”
…At last, my first victory.
Emotion welled up in me more than I’d expected.
Mr. Brigan clapped twice with an expressionless face.
“How admirable. Then I’ll put some meat on your dinner tonight.”
“…Really?”
“In exchange, your next opponents are two people.”
“……Let’s skip the meat, then?”
***
That afternoon.
After finishing training, I was dragging my utterly drained body back toward the inn.
My body felt as heavy as lead, yet the wind brushing the nape of my neck was especially chilly.
I was merely shuffling along with difficulty toward the inn, just like usual.
From beyond the village hill, a small sound drew gradually closer.
Neigh—clop, clop.
At the unfamiliar sound of hooves, I lifted my head.
Near the village entrance, an unfamiliar flag was fluttering in the wind.
A white flag embroidered with the pattern of a red sun.
Beneath it, people in white robes were slowly riding into the village on horseback.
Their equipment was so pristine it looked as if not a speck of dust had touched it.
Rather than mercenaries, their attire felt somewhat… closer to priests.
A villager beside me muttered under his breath.
“The Sereon Church?”
At that name, my gaze naturally returned to the flag.
So that’s the symbol of the Sereon Church.
A vague memory surfaced of having seen it once or twice in the city.
‘But… what’s going on?’
The village chief had said he would send a report to the Sereon Church.
Had they come in person to investigate?
An ominous feeling began to crawl up inside me.
For some reason, I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
One of the robed figures spoke to the villagers.
His tone was calm, yet oppressive.
His gestures were gentle, but there was something about his attitude that looked down on people.
At that moment, someone beside me murmured softly.
“What’s going to happen this time…?”
Without realizing it, I pressed my lips tightly together.
It smelled like something troublesome and bothersome.