The Men of the Kingdom Part I

by Kugane Maruyama

  Before the boy stood the warrior said to be the strongest in the kingdom. Gazef keenly detected the split-second disturbance in Climb’s emotions that normal humans would have naturally missed before he gave his response. “I was shown recently how green I still am. I’d like to train with someone who’ll pose a bit of a challenge.”

  “You, green, sir?”

  Under what circumstances would Gazef learn he was “still green”? It was then that Climb remembered the unit he commanded had been missing members of late.

  Since Climb didn’t have any close friends, he’d only heard the rumors bouncing around the mess hall. Apparently, the Royal Select had been caught up in something and lost a few men.

  “Yeah. If that charitable caster hadn’t helped me, I probably wouldn’t be here right now…”

  Hearing that, Climb felt his iron mask crumble; he couldn’t help it. But who wouldn’t be surprised? His curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, “A charitable caster?”

  “…His name was Ainz Ooal Gown. I’m not sure, but I think he’s on the level of the empire’s monstrous casters.”

  It was not a name Climb had ever heard before.

  The young soldier admired heroes and had a secret hobby of collecting sagas—regardless from what race the epic originated. Not only that, but he also collected as many exciting stories as he could from famous adventurers in the region, but he didn’t recognize the name Gazef mentioned.

  Of course, there was always the possibility it was a pseudonym.

  “S-so, nngh!” Climb suppressed his desire to ask details. I can’t blithely ask about an incident that cost him some of his men. One can only be so rude… “I’ll commit that name to memory… So is it really all right for you to train me?”

  “I’m not training you. We’re sparring. Whether you learn something from it or not is up to you. You’re one of the best soldiers this country’s got, you know. It’ll be meaningful exercise for me, too.”

  That was high praise, but Climb considered nothing more than polite decorum.

  It wasn’t as if Climb was remarkably strong. The standard he measured against was simply low. The kingdom’s soldiers were only marginally stronger than the average citizens and weak compared to the empire’s knights, who were full-time. No member of this kingdom’s army was famous enough to be known throughout the region. The men directly under Gazef were strong, certainly, but still not quite as strong as Climb.

  Out of the adventurer ranks of bronze, iron, silver, gold, platinum, mythril, orichalcum, and adamantite, Climb was probably gold. It wasn’t as if he was weak, but there were always many more who were stronger.

  Could someone like him really engage in a sparring match worth the time of someone like Gazef, a warrior who was undoubtedly adamantite rank?

  Climb chased all the discouraging thoughts from his mind.

  It would be an extremely valuable experience to learn from the strongest man in the kingdom. Even if he ended up disappointing Gazef, Climb would have no regrets.

  “Okay, then I’d like to go a round, please.”

  Gazef grinned and nodded once with enthusiasm.

  They walked to the weapon rack together and equipped swords that were exactly the right size for them. Gazef chose a bastard sword, and Climb selected a small shield and a broadsword.

  Then Climb took the lumps of metal out from his pockets. It would be rude to face someone stronger while still wearing them. Not to mention that if he didn’t fight as hard as he could, he wouldn’t grow. His opponent was the strongest warrior in the kingdom. Confronting this considerable challenge would require his all.

  Soon Climb finished his preparations, and Gazef asked, “And are your arms okay? They’re not numb anymore?”

  “No, sir. I’m fine now. They feel a bit warm, but there’s no problem with my grip.”

  Climb waved his arms, and Gazef saw from the way they moved that the boy was telling the truth and nodded. “Okay. Hmm. But in a way, that’s kind of too bad. You run into all kinds of situations on the battlefield and can’t always fight at your best. If your grip is weak, you need to adjust your style appropriately. Are you working on that?”

  “N-no, I’m not. In that case, I’ll do more practice swings—”

  “Oh no, you don’t have to go that far. But you’re protecting the princess most of the time. It wouldn’t be a waste to practice things like how to fight if you get attacked somewhere you’re not allowed to carry a sword and familiarize yourself with different weapons.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “There are nine basic disciplines of armed combat: swords, shields, spears, axes, daggers, combat gauntlets, bows, bludgeons, and throwing weapons. If you try to learn too many, you’ll end up neglecting all of them. I recommend narrowing it down to two or three and practicing those. Okay. Apologies for the boring commentary.”

  “It wasn’t boring, Captain Stronoff! Thank you!”

  Gazef smiled awkwardly and waved off Climb’s gratitude. “If you’re ready, then let’s get started. For now, come as you are. Later…well, I can’t train you, but I’ll give you some tips on fighting in the other disciplines.”

  “Yes, sir. Looking forward to it.”

  “Right, but know that it’s not my intention for this to be a drill. Come at me like it’s a real battle.”

  Climb slowly moved into a stance with his sword held low, facing Gazef with the left side of his body hidden behind the shield. His eyes were sharp—already treating this as more than practice. He could sense Gazef was also taking it seriously.

  They stared each other down, but Climb couldn’t move.

  He was nimbler after removing the lumps of metal from his pockets, but Climb still didn’t feel like he could beat Gazef. In both physical strength and experience, Gazef completely surpassed him.

  If he was careless in how he advanced, the captain would effortlessly intercept him. His opponent was superior, and there wasn’t anything he could do about that. But if this were a real battle, would Climb simply lose his life because there was nothing to be done?

  So then what?

  He would have to meet Gazef with something Gazef didn’t have.

  Climb lost out on strength, experience, and mental fortitude—everything a warrior needed. If there was an exception, it would be in gear.

  Gazef had a bastard sword. Climb, however, had a broadsword and a small shield. If they were magical equipment, one blade could be superior to another, but these were made for training. In terms of weapons, he wasn’t ahead.

  But whereas Gazef had only one, Climb had two—a shield could be used offensively as well. In exchange for dividing his attack power, Climb had an advantage in versatility.

  He could deflect a blow with the shield and then swing the sword or parry with the sword and strike with the shield.

  Climb observed Gazef’s movements carefully, aiming for opportunities to counterattack.

  After a few seconds, the older man smiled slightly. “You’re not going to charge? Then I’ll start—here I come.”

  Displaying absolute calm, Gazef held his sword aloft. He lowered his hips slightly, suffusing his frame with energy like a tensed spring.

  Climb braced himself as well, so he’d be ready to defend whenever the sword was swung.

  Then Gazef rushed forward and swung down at Climb’s shield.

  He’s fast! Climb gave up on maneuvering the shield to deflect the oncoming hit. He transferred all his attention and ability into the basic defensive act of withstanding the assault.

  In the next moment, a tremendous shock assailed his shield.

  Did it break from that one attack? It certainly felt like it, as the blow was so mighty it immobilized Climb’s shield-bound hand. The strike was the kind that he had to block with his entire body.

  Deflect?! How could I even match his speed like this? If I could at least get it to glance off smoothly… As Climb chided himself for being so naive, another shock assaulted his stomach. “Guh-hagh!
”

  The young boy’s body went flying. He landed hard on his back, and the stone floor knocked the wind out of him. One glance at Gazef was all it took to find out what had happened.

  The older warrior retracted his leg after launching that heavy kick. “Don’t pay too much attention to the sword just because it’s all your opponent is carrying. You might get kicked like this. That time, I aimed for your stomach, but usually they’d go for a less guarded area. They’ll try to shatter your knees or…even if you’ve got your groin padded, a kick from metal greaves can rupture things… You need to keep an eye on your opponent’s entire form and watch their every move.”

  “…Yes, sir.” Climb resisted the dull pain in his stomach and stood up.

  Gazef had tremendous physical strength. Kicking at full power, he could have easily broken Climb’s ribs, mail shirt or no, and rendered him unfit for combat. It was clear he hadn’t kicked at full power and had instead aimed his foot to send Climb flying and used no more strength than necessary.

  So this is training after all… Thank you. It was sinking in that this was a lesson from the kingdom’s strongest warrior, and full of gratitude, Climb reassumed a fighting stance.

  How precious was this chance? He had to take care not to let it end too soon.

  Climb raised his shield again and inched forward. Gazef silently watched. If things continued like this, it would merely play out the same as last time. As Climb approached, he was forced to rethink his strategy.

  Climb sensed overwhelming composure coming from the calmly waiting Gazef. He hadn’t managed to draw out even a hint of his opponent’s true strength.

  Being frustrated about his inability would probably be arrogant.

  Climb was already starting to reach his limits. Even though he always got up early to hone himself, his progress was slower than a snail’s. Ever since he first picked up a sword, he had not improved fast enough. Even if he could condition his body to swing faster with heavier swords, he would probably still be unable to obtain specialized combat abilities.

  Surely it was rude to wish that Gazef, the embodiment of talent, would use his full abilities when Climb was so incapable. He lamented that his own skill wasn’t enough to warrant them.

  Telling him to approach their bout as if it were a real battle and not practice had probably been Gazef’s way of saying that if Climb didn’t fight with the intent to kill, he wouldn’t even be worth sparring with.

  Climb ground his teeth audibly with a crk sound.

  He hated how weak he was. If only he were stronger, he could be more useful. With more power, he would be the princess’s weapon and face head-on those who sullied the kingdom, who caused the people to suffer.

  The princess had only one fragile sword, so she had to be careful when she wielded it, which racked Climb with guilt.

  But he immediately cleared those thoughts from his mind. What he needed now was to avoid drowning in negativity in this endeavor to enhance his abilities, even slightly, by clashing with everything he had against this man who stood at the heights of human potential.

  He had only one thought in his heart.

  I want to be useful to the princess…

  “Ohh?” Gazef murmured approvingly, his expression shifting slightly.

  It was because of the minute change he saw in the boy on the cusp of manhood in front of him. Up until a moment ago, Climb had been excited, like a child meeting a celebrity. But after the kick, that bubbly attitude had vanished and been replaced with the face of a warrior.

  Gazef raised his guard a notch.

  He thought more of Climb than the boy knew. He held an especially high opinion of that unwavering desire to better himself. His fervent devotion was akin to a religious faith. And then there was his swordsmanship.

  No one had taught Climb. He’d gleaned what he could by watching others train. His form was awkward and contained many extraneous movements. But unlike those who had unthinkingly studied exactly what they were taught, Climb considered the significance of each strike and cultivated a style that focused on real combat or, to put it darkly, a killer’s style.

  Gazef thought it was absolutely wonderful.

  In the end, a sword was a tool for murder. Someone trained for sports and display wouldn’t be effective in a serious battle. Such a style wouldn’t protect or save anyone.

  But Climb was different. He would cut down his enemies and safeguard whatever was precious to him.

  However—

  “Your attitude may have changed, but there’s a clear gap between our ability levels! What are you gonna do about that?”

  To put it bluntly, Climb had no innate talent. Without that, he couldn’t reach the heights of Gazef or Brain Unglaus, no matter how much harder than everyone else he tried, regardless of how cruelly he tortured his flesh.

  Climb’s attempts to be the strongest were nothing but a dream or a delusion.

  So why was Gazef training Climb? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to spend his time on someone with more aptitude?

  The answer was simple. He couldn’t stand around watching Climb expend pointless effort. If humans had a limit to their potential, then this boy was single-mindedly throwing himself at that wall over and over, and Gazef pitied him for it.

  He wanted to show Climb another way.

  It was his belief that even if there was a limit to ability, there was no limit to experience.

  The other reason was that Gazef regretted his greatest opponent’s appalling state. It’s like I’m doing this to make up for that…which isn’t fair to Climb, but…still, it’s not like he loses anything from going at it with me for a round.

  “Come on, Climb!”

  A response with the spirit to break through Gazef’s internal monologue came back to him.

  “Sir!”

  At the same time he replied, Climb dashed forward.

  Unlike before, Gazef slowly lifted his sword with a serious face.

  Then he brought it down from up high.

  If Climb received it with his shield, his approach would be halted completely; if he blocked with his sword, he’d be repelled. It was an attack that rendered defense purposeless. It was a bad idea to defend, but Climb had a broadsword whereas Gazef had a bastard sword—Climb’s weapon was shorter.

  All he could do was leap. Gazef knew that, so he was waiting to intercept.

  It was like entering a tiger’s den—but the young soldier hesitated only for a moment.

  Climb came within range of Gazef’s sword.

  Gazef’s swing was perfectly timed, and Climb braced against it with his shield. The tremendous shock was even more intense this time. Pain ran up Climb’s arm and made him grimace.

  “Too bad it ended up playing out the same as before.”

  Gazef seemed slightly disappointed as he aimed his foot at Climb’s stomach, but then—

  “Fortress!”

  The moment Climb shouted, Gazef’s face registered slight surprise.

  It wasn’t as if the martial art Fortress couldn’t be used without a sword or shield. It was quite possible with either a hand or armor. The reason it was commonly activated when defending with a sword or shield was due to how tight the timing needed to be. One false move when using it with armor could end with the warrior suffering the hit unprotected. So according to human psychology, most would want to activate it when blocking with something.

  But Climb knew when Gazef’s kick would come, which solved the timing problem.

  “You meant for that to happen?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The power in Gazef’s kick vanished as if something soft had absorbed it. His leg extended fully, and unable to drive any strength into it, he gave up and began to bring it back down. While Gazef was in this disadvantaged posture, Climb moved in to take his shot.

  “Slash!”

  Climb activated the martial art as he brought his sword down from high above.

  Create a single move that you can unleash with confiden
ce.

  He possessed no inborn talent, but he’d taken to heart the advice a warrior had once given him and desperately polished his overhead attack.

  Climb’s body was not covered in an ostentatious layer of muscles, nor was he blessed with a physique that easily put on muscle in the first place. It wasn’t as if he had the agility to put extra bulk to good use anyhow.

  So he had toned his body and achieved a specialized build through what had seemed like infinite repetition.

  The result was his downward swing from up high—his singular strike achieving a speed that could be considered extraordinary, which practically summoned a gale in its wake.

  That was what fell toward Gazef’s head.

  The idea that if his attack connected it could be fatal did not occur to Climb. He’d unleashed his move with absolute conviction that a man of Gazef’s caliber wouldn’t die from something like this.

  A sharp clang rang out as the bastard sword rose to meet the descending broadsword.

  Gazef had anticipated even this far ahead.

  Climb used all the energy in his body to try and throw the older warrior off-balance.

  But Gazef’s body didn’t budge.

  Even in an unsteady position on one foot, Gazef had no problem stopping a blow bearing the entirety of Climb’s might. The man was like a great tree with thick roots deeply seated in the earth.

  Climb had used his martial art and all his strength. Even with those two things combined, he couldn’t match one-footed Gazef. He was surprised to realize this and then looked to his stomach.

  Slicing with the broadsword had meant closing the distance, and thus it was possible for Gazef to kick him again.

  He jumped away right as it arrived.

  Just a little dull pain. Then the two of them stared each other down a few paces apart.

  Gazef’s eyes were happy, and his mouth curled in a grin.

  His expression was amused, but it contained no ill will. It was only a refreshing smile. It made Climb fidget, how Gazef beamed at him like a father proud of his son’s improvement.

  “Nice work. I’m gonna take this next one a little bit seriously.” Gazef’s expression changed.