Chapter Eight

Clark, a middle-aged man wearing leather armor, silently watched as the Young Master made his assessment of the soldiers. As the Head of the Guards, his priority was the safety of the young noble. But honestly speaking, he did not like the Young Master at all. The second son of Lord Drakus was a total brat. There had been numerous times wherein Clark could not help but ask himself how a person could be so evil, so hedonistic, that there seemed no chance for redemption.

If he could, he would have left this small town long ago. But since it was an order from his beloved master, Lord Drakus, he steeled his resolve to stay until the end. Clark repeatedly convinced himself that he should endure this and carry out his duty faithfully.

What is the brat thinking, suddenly recruiting soldiers?

Clark sighed. Near him, he could also see the expressions of the other guards. They were also probably confused of the sudden change in the Young Master these past few days. For some unknown reason, he suddenly started giving out free food to the starving residents. When Clark first heard of it, he laughed at the absurdity of the news. But after seeing the servants actually distributing the wheat porridge, his jaw slacked in wonder.

"Let's skip the formalities," said the Young Master. "Let's immediately start with training."

Clark frowned. He knew that the Young Master was incredibly weak. Whenever the Young Master got into trouble, he would come running to the guards to ask for help. Although clearly annoyed and hesitant, the guards would always answer his call. Just like Clark, the other seven guards were loyal to Lord Drakus. Otherwise, they would have left this town long ago.

The servants appeared, carrying with them numerous spears. Clark was sure that there were no such weapons in the Mansion, even in the underground basement. He started wondering where they got hold of them.

"Clark—," said the Young Master. "—And the rest of the guards. Come over here."

Upon the order, Clark and the other guards went towards the young master. At the corner of their eyes, they could see the spears being handed out to each soldier.

"Young master, you called?" said Clark.

Lark nodded. "The eight of you will join the training. No exemptions."

The guards looked at each other.

"What do you mean, Young Master?" said Clark, clearly confused of what was happening.

Lark sighed. He pointed at the soldiers holding a spear. The shaft was made of wood while the blade was made of iron. "Get a spear, all of you. Then join those guys."

"We're joining the training too?" said one of the guards.

"That's right," said Lark. They could see the annoyed stare of the Young Master. "That's an order. Go."

After a few moments of hesitation, the guards grabbed a spear then joined the soldiers. As one of the guards belonging to the Marcus Family, each of them have fairly decent strength. They were confident that even if all of these "soldiers" were to fight them, they would easily emerge victorious in the end. They felt that it was a waste of time to be joining the training of these soldiers which, just a few moments ago, were ordinary residents of Blackstone Town.

'I guess this is better than taking care of the mess the Young Master makes whenever he gets into a fight in the town. That's right. This is probably better.' Clark consoled himself with these thoughts.

"Uhm, Young Master?" said one of the soldiers. "Are you the one who's going to train us?"

Clark almost chuckled. What a stupid question. Of course, the one training them would be somebody else. What would the frail Young Master know about battle, after all?

"Yes, that's correct," replied Lark.

The shock within the eyes of the guards, including Clark, was evident. Some of them tried to open their mouth and speak, but eventually chose to stay silent in the end. The guards all knew the temperament of the Young Master. One wrong move and they would be the target of ridicule and punishment.

"Of course, since I'll be the one teaching you," said Lark. "It's only proper that I display my skills before everyone. It'll be hard to follow the instructions of a sheltered noble, after all."

Although everyone was silent, they all nodded within their minds. They did not feel like being taught by someone who was clearly weaker than them.

Lark gripped the shaft of his spear. "After a year, I hope that everyone will be able to do at least this much."

Suddenly, a strong killing intent filled the entire hall. Although Clark had been working as a guard for the Marcus Family, he had never once felt such savage sensation in his life. It was as though someone was devouring him whole, like he was a prey meant merely for entertainment. Even the Royal Knights in the Capital did not give such vehement bloodlust.

Clark's legs started trembling as the hair on his skin rose. Sweat started forming on his face. His throat started to become dry. He knew this sensation well:

It was fear.

If I, the Head of the Guards, is like this…. Then...

Just like he had expected, the others were no better than him. The other guards were pallid, as though all the blood in their body were drained. The soldiers, on the other hand, were trembling violently. There were even some of them that pissed their pants.

"Now, let's start," said Lark.

The strong killing intent vanished entirely. Lark gripped the spear then began stabbing through the air. The moment the blade made a piercing sound, he would immediately twist his wrist, change the grip by releasing one hand, then strike once again. The spear bent wide into different directions, piercing the air numerous times. It was like a moving snake, changing its direction at the last moment.

If that was a real opponent. A human with flesh and bones…

Clark could only imagine the outcome. He knew that even he would be unable to dodge those everchanging strikes.

"So, how's it?" said Lark, grinning. He playfully spun the spear on his hand. "I tried slowing down the movements so that everyone would be able to easily see."

Clark's eyes widened after the casual remark.

He was actually holding back so we'll be able to follow it?!

Although Clark wanted to refute the statement, at the corner of his heart, he felt that it was true. The bloodlust shown by the Young Master was utterly abnormal. There was no way a normal person was capable of that.

Then, a question came up. If the Young Master was actually this strong, then why did he always run towards the guards whenever trouble came up? Even back in the Gryphon City, the Young Master was always like that.

He would always make trouble, and his personal guards would always have to clean after him.

More and more questions piled up, and Clark was unable to answer each of them. In these past few days, the Young Master he knew became a different person entirely. Not only in the demonstrated skills, even the way he addressed other people had changed.

Lark clapped his hands once. "It's too early to be teaching you spearmanship. First, we will focus on training your bodies. After all, the basics are the most important."

The hall was silent. Everyone could still vividly remember the spearmanship the young master has shown them. It was beautiful yet deadly, like a dance with blades and swords.

"While carrying the spear in your hand," said Lark, demonstrating the proper way of holding the spear. "Run around this hall. Three hundred times."

The hall of the mansion was vast, and it would take them half a minute at most to run around it. Just thinking about running around it three hundred times was already tiring.

Lark grinned. "Those that are able to finish the task will receive dried fish for lunch."

"I-Is that true?!" said one of the soldiers.

"Of course." Lark nodded. "You have my word. Furthermore, the first to finish will get an egg."

Numerous gulping sounds were heard.

A fierce blaze filled the eyes of everyone.

"Let's start."

After a clap, everyone started running around the hall while holding a spear in their hand.

***

While the soldiers were training, Lark approached Melody. She, too, passed the 'seed' test.

"It's a refreshing sight, isn't it?" said Lark. Melody bowed her head upon making eye contact. "Once winter ends, they can start training outside. Also, I'm planning to recruit more soldiers by that time. The number right now is simply not enough." He stared at her for a moment. "Melody, I want you to work for me."

A straight offer.

Melody had heard of the evil deeds of the Young Master before. Honestly speaking, she did not want to work for such a person. But since she was homeless and jobless, just like others that came from Lion City, she was left with no choice.

"Payment will be fifteen silvers a month. Free meals, three times a day," said Lark. "You will also be given a house once the construction in the eastern border is finished. Of course, depending on your performance, a raise is not out of the question."

The offer was extravagant. Even when she had been working for the mistress back in Lion City, the amount was not that high.

"Y-Young Master, what kind of job is it?" she asked in a slightly trembling voice. If the young master suddenly told her to service him during the night, she would immediately reject the offer. No matter how many silvers were offered, she would never offer him her body.

"I want you to teach the soldiers how to read and write," said Lark.

His gaze went towards the soldiers running around. By now, they were terribly huffing, but probably due to the reward of dried fish, they kept running. The guards, on the other hand, did not want to lose to the 'soldiers'.

Lark smiled in amusement upon seeing this.

"Read and write?" breathed Melody, her voice almost a whisper filled with uncertainty.

It was common for soldiers to be illiterate. After all, only nobles were able to afford basic education. She had never heard of someone training common soldiers such advanced skills.

Lark nodded. "Knowledge is a powerful weapon. Though a lot of people may disagree with me, the soldiers definitely need to learn at least this much."

He saw that one of the soldiers was about to give up. He shouted, "Only those that finished three hundred laps will receive dried fish! Remember that!"

Upon hearing it, the soldier fiercely looked ahead and continued running. Lark chuckled, "Good! Keep going!"

"So, how about it?" said Lark to Melody. "Would you teach the soldiers for me?"

There was a moment of hesitation. Melody carefully said, "I can teach them, probably… but Young Master, you… you won't ask me for anything else, right?"

Lark slightly titled his head. "Of course, that's not all."

Melody shivered. She was determined to immediately reject him if he asked for 'that'.

"You will be required to learn arithmetic, together with Gaston," said the Young Master. "I plan to expand this town further. To do that, I need capable vassals."

"Arithmetic…" her voice trailed off.

It was a popular skill known by all merchants. Just the thought that she would learn such skill made the offer enticing. After all, even some of the nobles did not know of it.

Melody considered all possible scenarios. After weighting the pros and the cons, she swallowed the lump in her throat then slowly nodded. "I accept the offer, Young Master."