"I may have told you to hit 10,000 repetitions, but I never set a deadline for when to complete them. What I want is not for you to reach the number itself, but for you to build the stamina and endurance to spin those metal ropes 10,000 times reliably. Don’t just aimlessly fill in the numbers! How many times do I have to tell you to stop focusing on the number and pay attention to your body! Feel the strain, notice how your muscles are moving, and understand how your limbs are functioning!"

Ihan didn’t hold back in his scolding of the cadets, especially the ones with red-marked ropes—the so-called "young masters."

"Is it because you’re all young masters? Should I personally attend to each one of you to get you to listen? Why are you so slow to understand?"

"...I’m not a young master."

"Oh really? You sure act like one. Or maybe you grew up without realizing you were a pampered brat?"

"You...!"

"Frustrated? If you’re that upset, why don’t you actually try harder? Why are you so weak that a demoted knight like me has to chew you out like this, tsk tsk."

"Just wait! One day I’ll put a sword through that smug face of yours!"

"Oh, I hope you can make that happen."

"!?"

Ihan’s ability to provoke them was truly masterful. With nothing but his tongue, he led them by the nose. He smirked inwardly, fully aware that they were cursing him inside.

'Curse me all you want. It'll just keep you alive longer.'

His mentality was far too tough to be shaken by mere insults.

Ihan didn’t stop berating them, constantly pushing them to their limits.

However, he didn’t only focus on the so-called young masters; he made sure to keep an eye on everyone.

First, there were those with yellow-marked ropes.

The so-called "chicks."

Most of them were women who had neither learned aura techniques nor even basic swordsmanship.

And so...

"You chicks aren’t even ready to hold a wooden sword, let alone a real one. What you need right now is to focus on building basic strength and stamina. Oh, and don’t worry about the ridiculous idea that working out will make you too muscular. Muscles don’t develop that quickly, and doing this kind of exercise won’t turn you into a bodybuilder."

He was being kind—not because they were women, but because they were complete novices. It would be cruel to berate someone who didn’t even know how to use a treadmill. If anything, he was being gentle.

"Instructor, um, will this jump rope thing really help us build stamina?"

"That’s a great question, Number One Chick."

"Uh, can you just call me Levy?"

It was a serious and diligent question from Levy Folt, whose positive attitude had left a good impression the previous day.

Well done. As an instructor, he now understood how valuable it was to have students who asked earnest questions.

Suppressing the urge to give her extra points, Ihan softened his tone further as he explained.

"Jumping rope doesn’t just build stamina. It also improves endurance, strengthens your heart and lungs, enhances balance, and increases your overall athletic ability. Of course, you won’t see results right away, but if you keep at it every day, you’ll notice a change in your body eventually."

"Oh…"

"It’s also one of the best exercises for weight loss."

"!!!"

At this, every female cadet perked up like meerkats, suddenly paying close attention.

Motivation.

Ihan had given the chicks a reason to work hard.

"And that’s not all. If you follow my training, you’ll find that wearing clothes becomes a lot more enjoyable. Fashion-conscious cadets might know this already, but no matter how well your clothes fit, they won’t always look good if your body isn’t in shape. But when your body becomes more toned, even outfits that didn’t suit you before will start to look good."

"R-Really?"

"I never lie. Here’s something even more tempting. Maid!"

"Yes, sir!"

Rayla Winter appeared the moment Ihan called out, and the female cadets' eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the royal maid’s uniform.

For many of them, working as a royal maid was a dream job.

"For example, maid, why don’t you show them?"

"Yessir."

Despite her languid tone and demeanor, the moment she executed a perfect curtsey, the female cadets' expressions shifted to one of awe.

“Wow, she’s flawless.”

It was a genuine comment from a noble lady, and the others agreed. Rayla’s posture was indeed graceful and beautiful.

"As you can see, the maid’s form is impeccable. That’s because her balance and posture are perfect. And for that, the strength in her back and glutes plays an essential role. Now, do you feel motivated to work harder?"

"...Yes."

"I’ll take that as a yes. I promise you this: if you follow the training schedule I’ve set, you’ll be able to hold yourself with as much grace as the maid, and anyone who sees you will think you’re beautiful."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

And just like that, the chicks had pledged to follow him, as devoted as worshippers to their god.

After all, what drives people more than their deepest desires?

Ihan found himself amused at how far he was willing to go, but it was necessary to be kind to novices.

On the other hand...

"Green sprouts."

"...Are you talking to us?"

"Yes, I’m talking to you."

"...It doesn’t sound like an insult, but it doesn’t feel great either."

The cadets with green-marked ropes were in a strange in-between stage, not complete novices but not yet fully trained. This required Ihan to be particularly strict with them.

"You guys have learned basic swordsmanship. While you haven’t learned aura techniques, I assume you’ve been training in swordsmanship since childhood. As a result, your fundamental stamina is decent. You’re better off than those red-rope ‘young masters’ over there."

"...I'd rather be called a sprout than that."

"Maybe aim to be weeds. That way, you’ll survive."

"That’s not much better."

"Enough. Let me give you a serious piece of advice. If you really want to become knights, you shouldn’t be here at the academy at all. I’d recommend dropping out immediately."

"...Wh-why would you say that?"

After a moment of silence, they asked.

They knew Ihan never spoke without reason. And, just as expected...

"Because you haven’t learned aura techniques."

"...Ugh!"

The mention of aura techniques made them face the harsh reality they had been trying to ignore.

"Some of you already know this. There’s a huge gap between those who’ve learned aura techniques and those who haven’t. It’s as unfair as pitting a child against an adult in a fight."

Even a full-grown man known for his strength in the village would be easily overwhelmed by a child trained in aura techniques. That’s why knights, who train these techniques to the extreme, are both revered and feared.

"Sure, the academy provides basic aura training, but it’s a weak, low-level form of it. Think of it as a sandwich with just bread and vegetables, without the ham, cheese, or sauce. Now, if any of you are extraordinary geniuses, you might be able to make the most out of such basic techniques and push them to the limit."

"...Ha."

It was a sweet dream, nothing more.

If any of them were truly that talented, they would have already been scouted by a noble family’s knight order—not stuck at the academy.

"Nothing in life is guaranteed, but I don’t think staying in the academy’s swordsmanship department is the best path for you. You’d have a better chance if you joined a top-tier mercenary group or the warrior guild, where you could learn proper aura techniques. Although, you’d be risking your life to do it."

"That’s exactly why we came here instead."

One of the sprouts spoke up.

Ihan nodded in understanding.

Mercenaries were constantly dying, and the warrior guild was known to be shady and brutal, taking on any job that paid well, no matter how underhanded.

It wasn’t a path one should take lightly.

But Ihan knew the reality.

‘By the second or third year, most commoner cadets drop out of the swordsmanship department and join mercenary groups or guilds. The gap between them and the noble cadets becomes too wide.’

That’s why, by the second and third year, the swordsmanship department only had noble cadets left.

It was a stark reminder of the unfairness of the world that the academy so clearly displayed.

It was a ridiculous situation. They claimed to train talent, but in the end, it wasn’t the kingdom that benefited, but the mercenary groups and guilds. At this rate, in ten years, the relationship between knight orders and mercenaries or guilds would be reversed.

There was no fighting the numbers, and the power of mercenaries and guilds would only grow.

‘But that’s none of my concern.’

By then, Ihan would have either defeated Baltar or Baltar would have retired. No one would be able to stop him.

‘Surely, he won’t still be around in ten years.’

Even Baltar would age.

...Surely.

"Instructor?"

"Ah, sorry. I got lost in thought."

"...Thank you for thinking about us."

"Mm, well, it’s my duty as your instructor."

It seemed there was a misunderstanding, but he let it go. A good misunderstanding could be beneficial, after all.

"Ahem, anyway, I don’t see a bright future for the sprouts here in the academy."

"..."

"But, it’s my duty to teach you and, as a swordsmanship instructor, to make you stronger. With that in mind, I’ve decided to teach you sprouts something special."

"...?"

"Pay attention."

Ihan picked up a fallen tree branch.

It was broken, but still quite sturdy. Holding it lightly in his hand, he stood still.

Then—

"You saw this yesterday, right? The ‘Impact’ technique."

Crack!

-!!!?

In an instant, the branch was shattered, and the cadets were stunned.

It wasn’t the shattering of the branch that was surprising, but the fact that Ihan hadn’t made any visible movement. He hadn’t swung it or struck it. He had simply touched it, and the branch had disintegrated.

If they weren’t amazed by this, what could possibly impress them?

"I call it the ‘Toughening Technique.’ As some of you may have heard yesterday, it’s not an aura technique. It’s a method that uses the collective strength of your bones, muscles, and tendons. It’s a skill you can learn through hard work, and once you master the sensation, its applications are limitless."

"Y-you’re going to teach us such a valuable technique!?"

The cadets were shocked.

Even though Ihan was their instructor, they couldn’t believe he would teach them something so precious.

Hadn’t they seen him overwhelming a prodigy with nothing but a wooden sword? And now, he was offering to teach them the very technique that made it possible.

Of course, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.

"Naturally, I’m not going to just teach it for nothing."

Of course.

Ihan wasn’t about to give away his secrets for free.

After all, this technique was something he had developed through years of experience on the battlefield and during training. It was his intellectual property. Just giving it away would be a loss.

However…

‘Retired fighters always live by teaching others their techniques.’

Even Ihan had to think about his retirement. He needed something stable, like a winning lottery ticket for his later years.

Ihan, concealing his true intentions, continued his explanation.

"First, if you learn this technique from me, you must address me as your ‘Master’ and pay membership dues for 15 years once you start earning an income. You are also forbidden from teaching this technique to anyone else without my explicit permission."

A 15-year long-term payment plan was non-negotiable.

"Additionally, forming a master-disciple relationship means more than just being friendly. You will need to keep an eye on each other to ensure the technique doesn’t leak. If anyone abuses it, you’ll have to deal with them yourselves. If anyone steals the technique, you’ll be responsible for punishing them."

Future payments were essential, and if Ihan ever had children, he’d have to leave something behind for them. He couldn’t let anyone else benefit from his legacy.

"Of course, I’m not asking you to decide right away. Take your time to think about it. This could be one of the most important decisions of your life. But let me say this—if you want to become strong, you’ll need to be prepared to stake your life on it."

─That’s all.

"..."

Silence filled the air.

It was a lot to process.

‘It’s strict, but... it’s worth it!’

The conditions were harsh, but not unreasonable. They were challenging but still acceptable.

Hadn’t their previous sword instructors laid down similar terms? Ihan’s conditions were just stricter and longer in duration.

But the chance to learn such a rare and valuable technique? That was more than worth the price.

Still, they needed to think carefully. They had to be sure they were willing to take this leap of faith.

After careful consideration, they wouldn’t regret their choice...

"Kunta wants to learn! Master, I’ll follow you!"

"What happens if there’s a conflict or problem among disciples? Is there a set of rules for that?"

"So we should start calling you Master instead of Instructor now?"

"Luck is on my side. I’ve been wanting to learn this."

"...The rich really are greedier than anyone else."

Before Ihan knew it, four cadets had gathered, and he was taken aback.

These talented, privileged cadets... What more could they possibly want?

But seeing how eagerly they approached, the other cadets made their decision.

"...It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I might as well go for it."

That was enough to shake off their hesitation.

 

"But, sir?"
"Yes, maid?"
"Since you’re forming a group, what’s your group’s name?"
"A name?"
"Yes! Every group has a name, right?"
"A name, huh…"

It wasn’t something he had thought about much before. It was a sharp observation. If he wanted to give them a sense of belonging, a name was important.

After a brief moment of consideration—

"Let’s go with [The One Hundred and Eight Arhats]."

"That’s a unique name!"
"It means I hope to gather 108 exceptional warriors one day. Haha."

"That’s a wonderful meaning!"

The innocent maid praised him with a bright smile, and Ihan felt a twinge of guilt.

Sometimes, such purity could stab more deeply than anything else.