“I, I’m not giving up!”
Al attacked him again with his practice sword. Menel didn’t even dodge. He allowed the sword to come straight down onto his forehead guard and didn’t so much as blink as the thud rang out.
“Brother, you’re hitting me square from the front and that’s all you’ve got?
Are those thick arms just for decoration? Huh?” With the sword still resting on his head, Menel edged up to Al and glared at him. Al winced. “Oh? Oh?
Cowering, huh? Just gonna cry and run away? Go on then.”
“I, I’m not going to run!”
“Then hit harder! Put some power into it, you loser!”
Al let out a wild yell and swung his practice sword about with all his might.
Menel took the blows skillfully on his armor, but those impacts looked pretty heavy even with armor to block them. I was impressed that he wasn’t showing even a hint of pain.
Recently, Menel had been taking over the role of the strict coach for Al’s training.
Al was just too gentle. He had a lot of muscle power and showed good intuition when it came to learning technique, but when it came to actually hitting Menel with the practice sword or grappling, he would get beaten and thrown, even though I knew Menel had less muscle.
For a person, having the kindness to feel sympathy and be hesitant to hurt anyone was a virtue that couldn’t be faulted, but for a warrior, it was nothing other than a weakness. I’d discussed this with Menel, and we had concluded that the only way forward was to make the motions a matter of muscle memory. And so, Menel was being offensive towards Al, kicking him over, and pressuring him with an intense focus on making him strike back. Just as I’d been trained to get used to killing birds and other wild animals, getting used to very stressful battle situations and striking living opponents with all his strength had to be the first steps for Al.
Al yelled out again. There was a tremendous crash, followed by a brief choking sound. Al had swept his practice sword horizontally and smashed it into Menel, knocking him back despite the chestplate armor he was wearing. That must have hurt. That seriously must have hurt.
“Heh. You were pretty fired up that time.” Menel didn’t let the pain show on his face. He just furrowed his brow a little and forcibly kept a calm expression.
“That’s the way.”
Menel was doing a really good job of being a teacher. He was actually a caring person who had a lot of life experience. Perhaps he was even more suited to teaching than me.
“Th-Thank you very much!”
And Al was earnest. Even though he sometimes flinched or held back out of concern for his opponent, he never allowed Menel to break his spirit despite all the shouting, intimidation, and pressure. His hazel eyes sparkling, he yelled out a battle cry and charged at Menel, a warrior overwhelmingly stronger than himself.
Al was really impressing me. I could see that he was getting slightly stronger with every battle. What he couldn’t do one day, he would be able to do by the next. And what he couldn’t do the next day, he would be able to do the day after that. They were all little changes. Sometimes he would put his effort into the wrong thing and lose some ground for a little while. But what if he kept making those little improvements for ten whole days? What about twenty? Thirty? Fifty?
A hundred? A thousand? What if he never stopped at all?
Warriors aren’t warriors because they’re born that way. They become warriors by making mistakes, getting injured, and learning from it, making the smallest of improvements many times over.
Below my window, Menel kicked Al over again. He rolled on the ground, completely covered in dirt. But to me, he looked like he was shining like a gemstone. He had the irregular gleam of a rock that was yet to fall into human hands. He was going to be cut and polished, and I was sure that he would shine even more beautifully. The thought of it somehow calmed my worries a little, and I felt warm inside.
Blood… Were there times when you felt like this?
When lunchtime came around, Al sat in the dining room drained of all his strength. Menel had driven him hard for what must have felt like forever.
Menel was really something to have robbed someone as persistent as Al of all his stamina. That said, it seemed to have taken a lot out of him, too. Apparently he didn’t want to appear weak in front of the person he was teaching; he told me he was going to eat out and asked me to deal with Al, then staggered off to town.
He reminded me of a wild animal or something. Maybe that was just what he was always like.
“Food’s up.” On the table, I placed deep bowls full of the vegetable and smoked meat soup my housemaids had made during their morning visit, followed by a plate of boiled eggs and bread that was more stodgy than fluffy and light. There was certainly quantity here. It was important for building up his body.
“I, I’m not sure it’ll all go down.”
“Force it down. If you don’t, your training will go to waste. You have to eat even more than you’ve worked out or you’ll defeat the point of the training.”
Eat a lot after exercise — this was one of the fundamentals that Blood had repeatedly drilled into me. If Al couldn’t do this, the training wouldn’t serve its purpose. It was better not to exercise at all than to weaken your muscles by exercising while fasting.
“There’s no need to rush, but get it all into your body.”
“O-Okay…”
After saying grace, I poured the herbal tea I’d boiled into two cups while watching Al slowly attack the meal. I was training every day just as he was, so I kept quiet as I chewed and drank. I had no intention of going out of my way to start a conversation with someone who was clearly worn out and tiring him out further.
I chewed the distinctive multigrain bread and tried to recall where in my previous world had heavy, somewhat sour bread like this. Perhaps it was somewhere like Germany? As I thought idly about things like that, Al sat up straight and opened his mouth. “Um… I’d like to… thank you again.”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“I really am very grateful for everything you’re doing for me. Taking me in as your squire, giving me training and even food and pay…” His hazel eyes were locked on me. I put down the piece of bread I had pinched between my fingers and met his gaze.
“Do you… know about our past?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Th-Then, you know about my position, too?”
“I think I have a pretty good idea. I won’t probe into it. You can tell me any time you like or not at all.”
“Yes, sir…” Al lowered his gaze slightly.
Even the name I was calling him by was probably an abbreviation. I still didn’t know his real name.
“I… was nobility within the clan.”
“Right.”
“My mother and father passed away from illness when I was young, so I was brought up by the clan, protected from trouble.”
“It certainly looked that way.”
He looked like he was being greatly cherished. But that was exactly why he’d developed this complex.
“But a part of me wondered whether that was okay,” he said. “We dwarves look up to the god of fire as our creator. Our pride is a warrior’s pride. Yet I, who bear responsibility to that clan, am so weak and cowardly…”
He might also have been feeling a sense of duty and responsibility as someone born into nobility.
“Wh-When I heard about you, I admired you. You’re about the same age as me, and you already have many great tales told about you and are looked up to as the lord of an entire region. I wanted to be like you.” The tension in his face relaxed and a toothy grin replaced it. “So… being able to serve by your side is like a dream. I can’t tell you how happy I am that I can learn of warriors and bravery from you.”