The hall was brightly lit from the semi-permanent light of the magic fire.
Inside, there was armor mounted on stakes and hay dolls to act as archery targets. The walls were lined with weapon racks filled with various arms that were left unsharpened.
Ordinarily, a training area should be set up outdoors. But there was a reason that it was decided to have it inside.
The city of Ro-Lente was home to Valencia castle. Having the soldiers train outside would mean that they would be seen by foreign ambassadors. To avoid the risk of appearing low class, numerous areas within the tower were cleared out to serve as training areas.
A demonstration of strong soldiers dauntlessly practicing their drills would have diplomatic benefits, but the Kingdom did not see it as such. More than anything, there was a trend to be seen as elegant, splendid, and highborn.
With that said, there still were drills that were impossible to conduct indoors. They would either be done discretely in a corner or on a field outside the castle, albeit outside the capital.
Climb entered the quiet hall as if he was cutting through the cool air and slowly started to stretch in the corner.
Thirty minutes later, after a thorough stretching session, Climb’s face was reddened, his forehead was drenched with sweat and his labored breaths were heavy with heat.
Climb wiped the sweat from his forehead and approached the weapon rack. Checking the grip, he makes sure that it fits securely in his hands. His palms were already rough and hard from the numerous blisters that came and went.
Next, he filled his pockets with chunks of metal and buttoned them tightly as to prevent them from falling out.
The many pieces of metal that filled his clothes made it as heavy as full plate armor. Regular plate armor without any magical enchants provided an excellent defense at the cost of one’s freedom of movement. Keeping actual battles in mind, training with it equipped was the right course of action.
But even so, it was rare to bring out full plate armor for mere training, not to mention the white armor that he was given. That was why he was using the metal chunks as an alternative.
Climb gripped the iron weapon that exceeded the size of a greatsword and held it high over his head. He slowly brought down the sword, exhaling as he did so. Stopping just before it struck the floor, he breathed in and raised the sword to its original position over his head. He stared at the space in front of him with sharp eyes, completely absorbed in his training as he gradually raised the speed of his swings.
He had already finished 300 swings.
Sweat poured down Climb’s completely reddened face. His breaths were hot, as if he was expelling the built up heat in his body.
Although Climb trained arduously as a soldier, it was difficult to handle the weight of the large greatsword. Stopping the blade just before it touched the ground was especially challenging.
Such a feat required a great deal of strength.
As the count of his swings reached 500, his arms started to cramp and felt as if they were screaming out in pain. Sweat fell from his face like a waterfall.
Climb knew very well that this was his limit. Despite this, he showed no signs of stopping.
However—
“—Perhaps that is far enough.”
Hearing the voice of another, Climb quickly turned to the direction of the voice and his eyes reflected the figure of a man.
Calling him burly would have been an understatement. The man was like the embodiment of steel. The wrinkles in the face reminiscent of rock made him look older than he actually was. His bulging muscles made it evident that this was no ordinary man.
There was no soldier in the Kingdom who did not know of him.
“—Stronoff — sama.”
Warrior Captain Gazef Stronoff, lauded as the strongest in the Kingdom and unmatched even in the surrounding nations.
“Any further would be overtraining. There is no meaning in pushing yourself so far.”
Climb lowered his sword and stared at his trembling arms.
“You are correct. I overdid it slightly.”
Seeing Climb’s expressionless face as he gave his thanks, Gazef shrugged his shoulders.
“If that is what you truly think, could you not make me repeat myself so often? How many times does this make it…?”
“I apologize.”
Gazef shrugged once more as Climb lowered his head.
This was a conversation that had been repeated countless times between them, like a greeting of sorts. Usually, this was where their exchange would end and each man would pursue their own training. But today was different.
“How about it, Climb. Would you like to try crossing swords?”
At Gazef’s words, Climb’s blank expression almost faltered for an instant.
Up until now, they had never crossed swords upon meeting at this location. It was their unwritten rule.
There was nothing to be gained even if they were to train together. No, it wouldn’t be completely fruitless, but the cons greatly outweighed the pros.
There was currently a power struggle between the King’s faction and an alliance between three of the six great noble families. The situation was dangerous enough for there to be rumors that the only reason the Kingdom is not split is because of the yearly war against the Empire.
In the midst of that struggle, if the personal confidant of the King, Gazef Stronoff — though highly unlikely — were to lose, it would give the nobility faction a great boon.
On the other hand, the nobles would jump at the obvious outcome of Climb’s defeat to whisper that he is unfit to protect Renner. There were many who disliked the idea of the beautiful, unmarried princess trusting a lone soldier with her protection, one with an uncertain background no less.
Both were in a position where they could not lose.
They could not appear weak, to show a weak point that could be exploited in an attack. The two were of one mind in that they were both carefully cautious as to not hurt their respective masters.
For what reason would he break the unwritten rule?
Climb looked around his surroundings.
Because there was no one else here? That was unthinkable. This was an abode of demons.
There was no end to those who would watch from afar or observe them while hidden. But he could not think of any other reason.
Unable to figure out his intentions, Climb did not allow his puzzling agitation to show on his face.
The man standing in front of Climb was a warrior hailed as the strongest in the Kingdom. Keenly sensing the brief instance of emotion that an ordinary person would miss, he spoke.
“Only recently, something occurred that made me realize that I was lacking. I would like to practice with someone who is competent.”
“Stronoff-sama did?”
Gazef, the strongest in the Kingdom, just what sort of incident could make him feel inadequate?
Climb suddenly remembered that the number of troops in Gazef’s unit had decreased.
Climb did not have any close comrades so he had heard it from a rumor circulating around the mess hall. According to the story, they had lost a number of their troops after being embroiled in an incident.
“Yes. If I had not met the merciful magic caster, if he had not lent us his strength, I would not be here right now—.”
Hearing this, Climb felt his iron mask crumble. No, just who could remain unsurprised? Before he knew it, Climb’s curiosity got the better of him and he posed a question.
“Who was that merciful magic caster?”
“…He called himself Ainz Ooal Gown. This is just a hunch, but I feel that he may rival even that monster of a magic caster in the Empire.”