I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple Episode 61

Episode 61

He's testing our stamina first, I thought as I chased after the Hunting Master, who suddenly surged ahead.

It was the first thing that needed to be assessed.

Though I could run for three days and nights using my internal energy, I chose to rely solely on my physical power this ti.

Since my regression, I hadn't prioritized external training. Unlike internal energy, which could be rapidly enhanced in a short span, external skills demanded consistent effort and ti.

That didn't an I could neglect them forever. To beco the world's strongest, I needed mastery of both internal and external disciplines.

In terms of internal energy, no one can match , I reflected.

The incident in the Jewel Mountains and the Spirit Jade I had acquired ensured that for now, and likely for a long ti, I wouldn't be surpassed.

However, my external skills and physical condition were undeniably the weakest here. The body was honest. It grew stronger through hard work and weaker through idleness and indulgence.

At fifteen, I had been discouraged during the first blessing ceremony and wasted a year. This weakness was my own doing, and I would have to endure the pain of rehabilitation.

I followed steadily in Tanko's footsteps.

After running for about half an hour, I was gasping for breath. By the hour mark, my head began to spin.

The pace exceeded my expectations, and my stamina proved far worse than I'd imagined.

Today's goal is clear then. I have to start addressing this glaring weakness. Thankfully, I managed to build up a sliver of stamina in the mountains. Without that, I would have collapsed within ten minutes.

Soon, my vision blurred.

Not yet, I urged myself, pushing forward.

A human's body was more resilient than it seed.

By my standards, a person would vomit when they were truly at their limit.

My throat burned slightly, but I felt no nausea. It was proof that I hadn't reached my limit yet.

Is this why they didn't even feed us breakfast? I wondered.

If they had, many would be retching by now.

Tanko's role was that of an instructor. Though harsh, his thods weren't born of malice. He wouldn't demand more than the hero disciples were capable of.

Thus, I was certain that the run would end by midday.

***

The run, which had started at dawn, concluded just before the afternoon as Luan had expected.

Tanko surveyed the six individuals who had followed him without faltering.

If all goes well, these people will survive.

This conclusion was based on aningful data gathered through countless training camps.

Hector Badniker, Seren Goodspring, Evan Helvin, Mir Giant—all four were promising talents who had carried their families' expectations long before the training camp, even before the blessing ceremony.

Among them, the one who drew Tanko's attention the most was the boy who had stayed within ten steps of him throughout the run—Charon Woodjack, the son of Hyde Woodjack, the empire's most formidable ranger.

Charon was sweating slightly, but his breathing remained steady.

This one is already mature beyond his years.

Tanko studied Charon's face, noting the scar across the bridge of his nose.

For the warriors of the plains, a scar was a badge of honor, not a mark of sha. Tanko shared this belief. He suspected similar scars lay hidden beneath Charon's coat. It was rare to see such marks on soone so young.

There was a saying, "See one thing, and you will know the whole."

Charon's bearing spoke volus about how Hyde had raised his only son.

In fact, Hyde had been one of the candidates that the Iron-Blooded Lord himself wanted to invite as a Great Master.

The Iron-Blooded Lord had t him in person and, for reasons unknown, changed his mind. This was not unusual, given the enormity of Hyde's responsibilities in the Swamp.

Tanko's gaze shifted to the back of the group. There stood soone who had captured his attention in a different way.

And then there is him. He made it after all, he thought.

Luan was panting as though he would collapse, yet he had kept pace and followed the group to the end. His grit was unlike anything Tanko had ever seen, especially considering he was ranked lowest among the six. Despite suffering the most, Luan had persevered.

Tanko would be lying if he said he didn't feel a flicker of admiration.

Truthfully, Tanko wanted to award extra points, but as the training camp's instructor, he couldn't. The training camp's order would collapse if the instructors' rewards and punishnts weren't fair.

"Charon Woodjack, Hector Badniker, Seren Goodspring, Evan Helvin, and Mir Giant—these five will receive two extra points each," Tanko announced.

He then glanced at Luan, who was catching his breath but appeared calm.

Does he still not understand the points' importance? Impossible. He isn't blind.

"Afternoon training will begin after the al. I will announce the exact ti later. For now, return to your accommodation and rest."

"Yes," the group replied in unison.

Tanko left the hero disciples behind and headed to his room.

The instructors' building glead on the outside, but its interior was far less impressive. The ostentatious exterior was designed to motivate the hero disciples.

Tanko headed to the dining hall for breakfast and lunch. After receiving a portion of bland food, he sat down.

Just then, he heard soone pacing nearby.

"It is a bit early for lunch," remarked the man sitting across from him with a gentle smile. It was Juan, the Martial Arts Master.

"I skipped breakfast," Tanko replied.

"As expected of you, Instructor Tanko. All the hero disciples are starving, so you can't eat yourself? Haha. I learned sothing new today."

There was sothing about this man that Tanko didn't like. He acknowledged Juan's talent and excellent skill as an educator, but sothing about his thods felt off—strangely unpleasant.

"Co to think of it, you are in charge of the afternoon class, Instructor Juan."

"That's right. Haha. I'm a bit nervous. I heard that there are many children from particularly noble families in this batch."

Whether it was intentional or not, Tanko didn't like Juan's perspective. No matter how noble their bloodlines, they were just hero disciples once they joined the training camp. As an instructor, what mattered was their aptitude, talent, and grit—not their family na.

Growing increasingly uncomfortable, Tanko shoved the remaining half of the bread into his mouth and stood up. "I'll be going."

"Of course. By the way, did any of the hero disciples catch your eye?"

Tanko paused. There were several, but the one who had drawn his attention the most was an unexpected candidate. However, he had no intention of sharing that with Juan. Without a word, he shook his head and left.

***

I stood up once my breathing steadied. The hard seat and dirt left feeling uncomfortable, but I didn't bother washing up. I was certain the afternoon would bring another grueling class.

Besides, the bathroom isn't even open.

I headed to the dining hall to fill my stomach. Fortunately, this al had no fixed portion, aning I could eat as much as I wanted.

I piled my plate high with at, found a seat, and started eating.

The training camp's dining hall didn't have the best reputation among the nobles, but to my surprise, the food wasn't bad. The seasonings were bland, but it wasn't dirty or unappetizing. Above all, the als were nutritionally well-balanced.

"Hey!" soone called out as they sat down across from . It was Seren, whom I'd briefly t the day before.

I greeted her between bites of at. "Hello. Surprisingly, we keep running into each other in dining halls—"

"Shut up. What's going on?" Seren interrupted, cutting straight to the point.

It was only then that I rembered our last encounter. I had made it seem like I was on the verge of death back then.

Swallowing the at, I replied, "It's been resolved."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I said it's been resolved. Isn't that why I am here?" I clarified.

Seren gave a skeptical look, then lowered her voice. "Did you defeat that monster by yourself?"

I doubted she would believe if I told the truth, so I sprinkled in a lie to keep the conversation smooth. "Soone from my family helped ."

"Who?" she pressed.

"You wouldn't know them even if I told you," I said dismissively.

"It is fine, so tell ," she insisted.

"Hey, why are you interrogating when we have just reunited? The important thing is that we are both alive and here."

"Don't change the subject," she snapped. "Answer ."

Fine. I will show this girl what changing the subject really looks like.

"More importantly, what is the secret?" I asked.

"What secret?" Seren tilted her head, her expression calm, but I didn't miss the slight flinch.

"You said you'd tell a secret if we t again alive," I reminded her.

"Did I really say that?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Yes, you did. I heard it clearly and risked everything for it. So, tell . What is it?" I pressed.

Seren remained silent.

"What's with that expression?" I prodded. "Is the secret that big? Are you actually a man?"

"H-how could that be?" Seren exclaid.

Of course, my eyes weren't so bad that I'd mistake her gender.

"Or maybe there's no secret, and you were just talking nonsense. Did you say it without thinking because you didn't expect to co back alive?"

"No!" Seren's voice rose slightly before she glanced around and sighed. "I just didn't think we'd end up talking like this. Damn it."

"Then why bother to make such a promise?"

"I just said it without thinking," she admitted, frustration creeping into her tone. "If I could, I would like to go back in ti and hit myself."

Her words caught off guard. It was a sentint I often had after regressing.

"The timing isn't right," she said finally. "I'll tell you later."

"I understand. But more importantly, why are you at this training camp?"

"That's what I want to ask you," she shot back. "Why are you here? Don't you know how dangerous this training camp is?"

Anyone watching would think that she was the Badniker, not .

"It is a family matter," I explained. "I received a blessing. I would be laughed at if I didn't participate."

"That's true." Seren hesitated montarily before saying, "Is there any way to leave once you've joined this training camp?"

"No," I said simply.

"What if you get seriously hurt?"

"They will let you rest in the infirmary in the instructors' building," I replied. "The theology instructor is a priest, so she'll heal your wounds."

Seren fell silent again.

Her reaction was strange. I knew that the Badnikers' training camp was dangerous, but was this Goodspring really that scared?

The death rate was indeed high, but soone as skilled as Seren wouldn't die.

Judging by her deanor, she hadn't joined just to et . She seed to have another purpose.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I'll tell you later," she said evasively.

"Why?"

"I don't want to be treated like I'm crazy," she muttered.

What was she talking about?

Without another word, Seren walked away, sat at the farthest seat from , and started to eat. No matter how intently I stared, she didn't glance my way. Sothing was clearly wrong.

Her personality is very strange, I thought.

She wasn't a bad person, but her foul mouth made her hard to approach, and she wasn't easy to deal with. On top of that, she seed to be hiding a lot. From now on, I'd have to rember that Seren was, at her core, a tough person to handle.

The mont Seren left, soone rushed over and sat next to . It was Pam, the freckled girl.

"I rember now!" she exclaid.

"What is it?"

"The marriage between the Badnikers' youngest son and the Goodsprings' third daughter!" Then she pointed at . "Badnikers' youngest!"

"That's ," I confird.

"The Goodsprings' third daughter!" she continued, pointing at Seren.

"That's Seren," I said.

"As expected!" Pam gasped, her excitent bordering on hysteria. "I was wondering why soone from the Goodspring family would join the Badnikers' training camp! But with such a backstory, it all makes sense now!"

Charis approached and pressed down on Pam's head tightly. "Ah, you are noisy."

Evan, my roommate, chid in with a curious look, "You were engaged? You two seem close."

"We aren't close," I clarified. "And the engagent was broken off a while ago."

"Ack! Now that I think about it, you're right! Wait! The engagent is already broken, but the love between you hasn't vanished. Finally, you've left the families behind and run off for love..." Pam rambled on, even as her head was being squished.

Evan looked at before saying, "By the way, you were amazing during the morning class. Honestly, I didn't think you would make it to the end."

Did he deliberately change the subject? What a considerate fella.

"It has been a while since I pushed myself that hard," I admitted. "I felt like I was going to fall apart."

"Haha. You are exaggerating," Evan said.

"Didn't you push through and get third place?" I asked.

"I'm pretty confident in my stamina."

I glanced at Evan, who was smiling awkwardly.

Evan was the third son of the Helvin family, and his main weapon was a sword. He primarily used Raven, the hereditary swordsmanship style created by his father, Dodds Helvin, the family head. There was no way it was just a coincidence—the na was too distinctive.

I poked my fork into a piece of at, lost in thought. It was hard to wrap my head around the idea. Could this man truly beco the continent's most notorious criminal within a decade?