Chapter Thirty-four: Pararell in Training Part I

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 Present day: Ilifelen calendar, year 5212, Meain, 15th.

—

 Earlier this morning, after the paladins were introduced to each paladins, Amethely smiled as they shook hands and got to know each other. Initially, she was a little hesitant to bring them over as her disciples. 

 The wanderers were all polite and nice—she knew that, of course. It was whether her now-called disciples would feel about having to train with people clearly inexperienced. Fortunately, her initial worry didn't come to fruition.

 "Very well," Luna spoke in her usual cold tone. "Since we will be using the general facility, I've cooperated with Sir Boail for this session."

 Amethely has heard of the name Boail. If she remembers correctly, he's the adopted son of the Howlshock family—the one responsible for the prestigious Ilifelen military academy in the east plains of Lesich.

 The academy was situated in a small city bordering the neighboring country of Velen Lon. Most who are interested in joining the military usually graduate from there, though, in many cases, the students become adventurers or mercenaries instead.

 It wasn't as though the military was crowded. Some things just made more sense. A mercenary would have the potential to earn more, same goes for adventurers. Thus, most had the same educational background as soldiers on duty, making coordination with the different factions easier in some cases.

 In the case of House Howlshock, they were originally mercenaries who loved the idea of living free. Even though Amethely was a little saddened, they viewed the safety of the city barriers—they viewed it akin to being locked inside a cage, but it wasn't as though she couldn't understand their perspective.

 Still, it wasn't safe to live like that—their small camp eventually evolved into the small city of Criilse. A few hundred years later, it has become a place where various combat schools are situated. Even though the royal families and politicians of each nation are criticized for allowing Criilse to operate as it is, those who sign up are aware of what's ahead.

 Each year, there are at least around fifty students who have passed away either from recklessness in practice or magibeast attacks—cults, and organized crime. Yet, those are low numbers compared to how many soldiers die each year, and it's mostly those who haven't seen the harshness of the outside world.

 Hence, there was a higher acceptance rate among those who graduated from a school city such as Criilse. Based on her info, around fifteen students will join the wanderers later next month. But…

 Nn… I've got six months here at the base and I've already become Al's lover… ehe…ehehee~ 

 While Amethely was in her own little train of thought, Boail spoke.

 "Pleased to meet you, wanderers. I am Commander Boail Howlshock of the Armored Beasts. It will be my pleasure to have this joint session with you all."

 Some gulped as Boail spoke—even her disciple paladins. Troubled, Amethely smiled in mild discomfort—and once they noticed, their backs were jolted straight as they composed themselves.

 As for the wanderers… some were frozen solid, and who could blame them? Before they even arrived, Luna had spoken to her and Chely that Boail would be joining them, and as a test, he'd exude immense pressure to test the wanderers. Their not passing out was a good sign…

 After all, Boail was a large, horned beastman; his body was covered in deep blue crystal-like scales as tough as armor. While red eyes were not an unusual sight, deep crimson eyes were, often rousing unease in most people.

 "I see some familiar faces here…" he remarked, looking at Oliver and his friends—Oscar, Andreas, Maya, Malin, and Ida. "I look forward to seeing your progress today," he added without elaborating.

 "Now then—"

 But before Luna could finish her sentence, there was a small uproar. Soldiers were making way and saluting with their hands on their hearts. Seeing the gestures, Luna placed a hand on her heart, too, as did the wanderers. Amethely glanced at her disciples and gave them a small nod for them to do the same.

 "Good morning, Sir Rigeld, what are you doing here?" Chely calmly inquired.

 Rigeld, with his dark gray hair and silver eyes, tried to contain the tiny smirk that his lips could not hide. He placed a hand on his heart and bowed lightly himself, albeit a bit eccentric.

 "Well… good morning to you too, Lady Hero." Unable to hide it anymore, a full-blown grin was plastered on his face. "I've come here to parade!" he exclaimed as he dramatically revealed Alum, who was behind him.

 Meeting his gaze, Amethely blushed, thinking of the night before when they had confessed and earlier that morning before parting ways.

 Without mercy, Rigeld slapped Alum on the back. "Don't you have something to declare?" he grinned mischievously and handed Alum a microphone. Suddenly, Amethely froze on the spot, realizing what it was going to be about.

 "Umm… sigh…" Alum averted his golden eyes from her as if to apologize. "Yesterday… Saint Amethely and I became lovers—"

 He didn't even get to finish his sentence. The whole facility erupted in cheers, a few cried red so joyous they fell to their knees, hitting the ground, while some went pale, yet with a blissful expression as though their souls had left them.

 And as for Amethely…

 W-w-w-w-w-whaaa-whaaa-wahhaaa…?!

—Poof…

 Her face was completely red; steam reeked from her head, sounding like a kettle whilst being weak in the knees—yet, only Alum seemed to have noticed it overloading her. So to save her grace, he approached her and hid her in his cloak.

 ""…"" —WHATT!?! They exclaimed inwardly.

 ""…"" —did the air always taste this sweet…?

 But as he did, everyone just froze in place—it was eerily quiet instead. Amethely felt her heart thump in her chest—no, she could feel it in her ears too! And yet. It wasn't unpleasant. She clenched the fabric of his shirt, resting her forehead between his collarbones, enjoying the comfort as if she'd forgotten about the current situation.

 "Are you okay?" Alum's low, soothing voice pierced through.

 "Nn… thank you, Al," Amethely whispered back as she nodded lightly. 

 "Sorry you got caught in the crossfire."

 "Nnnh?" Amethely shook her head. "We had to eventually…"

 "…I suppose," Alum chuckled.

 Hmhm… hmhmmm… ehehehehe… she giggled as she nuzzled against him. His scent is so reassuring… a-and he's hiding me while holding me—ehehe…hehehe~

 But unbeknownst to her, they could still see something silver-gray sticking out of the cloak; it was moving and blatantly obvious to anyone who saw it. Their saint was nuzzling her head against her lover like a lovestruck girl.

 "Wohoooo!??!?"

 Cheers erupted once more. But along the energetic roars, squeals, and whistles, Alum even witnessed souls leave some of them.

 And that wasn't to say that he, too, was feeling something strange—what was it again? Embarrassment? But despite his frowning red face, he had to endure.

 Emely warmly smiled at the sight, looking as if she'd melted. Miu smiled as well, but with a hint of melancholy. As for Noel, he grinned, being smug as always, and gave Rigeld a high-five, causing visible deadpan exasperation on Luna's end—Chely, as the doting older sister, was teary-eyed, sniffing a little.

 Seeing Chely in tears of happiness, Noel gently wiped the drops from the corner of her eyes with a finger—but then, he unconsciously licked them without much thought, causing her to stiffen and turn red—a vein visibly popped on her forehead as she clenched her fist.

 Shit… I'm dead… Noel thought. But to his surprise, Chely pinched his sleeve, looking away awkwardly.

 "You… don't do this with other girls, do you? Drinking their bodily fluids?" she whispered—AAAAAAH!? Kill me, why did I say that?!?!? Chely screamed inside her mind.

 "Please don't put it that way!" Noel exclaimed, feeling his bones jump out of his skin. This ignorant little—!

 "Chi-chi-chi…" Chely giggled, flashing him a smug, deadpan smile.

 "Huh… was that…?" Noel could feel his face getting warmer than usual and averted his gaze. Did she just make a dirty joke???? His soul cried.

 "—Sniff… w-what's next…? B-being e-e-e-eaten?" Chely stammered out her next line, holding her arm with her free hand as if to embrace herself.

 "…" —whi is shi so cut?

 In the end, Noel's soul almost ascended before pulling it down again. Luckily, nobody paid them any attention.

 "Well… you do look delicious," he blurted out, a hand resting on his neck.

 "…Miiiiiiiiiiiiiguh—POOF…!"

  ..

 After the chaotic morning and the exercise, it was time for practice sparring. Amethely had regained her composure long ago, fortunately. But it was here that it might get difficult.

 To be frank, there was a significant skill disparity between the wanderers and soldiers—the same goes for her five disciples. It became very apparent as soon as they started.

 Split into a team of four randomly, each party struggled to coordinate properly, even though they went in with a plan. Most of the attempts were clumsy, and Boail's soldiers exploited every weakness presented to them.

 As soon as someone was out of position, a spell was fired, and they were taken out. As soon as the sword slid just a bit out of control, they were sent back.

 "…" Amethely clenched her fist a little.

 She knew that training was merciless, and the soldiers weren't coddling them; they knew, as Luna never did, even if it was cold. Luna wasn't that strict; she watched them try, and she knew better than to demoralize people too soon.

 It wasn't yet time—they needed confidence. Confidence she could tear down, trample in cold blood. Even though Amethely didn't know the military way well, she knew they didn't need delusional bravado.

 Based on what Luna planned for their training, it was far from tender. It was a grueling torture of the body and soul. Build them up, demolish them later, pick up the pieces, glue them all together, and break them again.

 Then she remembered Luna's words when they discussed the curriculum. "—If they can't put themselves together, then they're not cut for it," she spoke coolly. "But… if they still are themselves. I suppose they deserve praise."

 "…"

 It's cruel if you look at it that way… yet, it's necessary, Amethely thought—at the same time, another wanderer was sent flying across the field. 

 It was different from how the paladins trained; it was more… gentle, built on trust and reliance on one another, as they honed their individual skills to help their comrades. Yet it was also similar.

—KABOOM!

 Suddenly, a loud explosion scattered ice everywhere—Noel, with the melting orange divine blade in his hand, dusted off debris from his cheek. His usually cheerful expression was replaced with a focused one. His silver eyes locked onto one of the soldiers who'd managed to narrowly avoid a blast of glowing superheated winds.

 Behind him was Daniel, supporting him with defensive wind and water magic. He'd created barriers for Noel, deflected spells with precise [Wind Blasts].

 But…

 Despite being restricted by mana amulets, Boail's men changed tactics—both went all in on Noel, the spell caster drew a mana blade, and rushed forward alongside each other.

 Daniel would create an ice wall to separate them, yet it shattered, obliterated by one [Wind Blast]. Noel dodged to the best of his abilities, but the two blades coming at him were getting overwhelming. He tried to create some distance, but they chased him down relentlessly.

 He deflected one, then barely dodged the other—kicked in the elbow, he lost grip of his sword—only to receive a kick on the other side of his rib. Daniel stood there, overwhelmed as the two beastmen refused to line up with Noel, making it difficult for him to help.

 Now that Noel had a mana blade at his throat with his hands raised up in the air, the other beastmen did not stop. Daniel didn't give up as he tried his best to slow her down, yet it was futile. She didn't slip, she didn't stop as she tore down his ice walls as she effortlessly dodged wind blasts. Before he realized, he was on his back, looking up at the sky with a pretty wolf-eared lady pinning him down.

 "…"

 Chely crossed her arms as she watched, and Amethely didn't fail to notice the subtle frown on her face. Actually, before the flirtation on their jog, she'd caught a glimpse of them flirting earlier this morning.

 Seeing the man you like easily defeated like that can't feel too good… Amethely sympathized.

 "Could've been worse," Luna voiced her observation in a chilling tone, causing her to doubt if it was the same girl from yesterday, who was happy being pampered by Alum like a younger sister.

 "Really? It is going well in my eyes, Ms. Luna," Boail said. "They are all very talented. Despite being new to combat, it is a pleasant result," he added.

"Is that so?" Luna tilted her head slightly.

 Amethely couldn't stay silent anymore. "Princess, while I do not mean to criticize your method… might you consider slowing down the pace just a little…?" she expressed, firm in her resolve in her eyes, elegant in posture.

 "…" Luna flinched a little—there was a mild sting in her chest. "I see…" She seemed to have realized she might've been rushing it, even though it wasn't urgent. "Thank you, Lady Amethely, Sir Boail."

 Amethely glanced at Boail, who gave her a small nod upon meeting her gaze. In turn, she smiled warmly, then turned to her sister, who, she could tell, forced a smile.

 "Yeah… they're new and have time," she said.

  ..

 Some time passed, and it was already evening. Everyone was exhausted, their mind numb, and their bodies sore. But just as they help each other up, forming new bonds by rotating partners and laughing at the absurdity, the barrier that split the facility into many smaller sparring fields united into a single large barrier.

 Soldiers, wanderers, and the paladins turned toward the large beastman with crimson red eyes—Commander Boail Howlshock had entered the training barrier.

 "I'm sorry, Mr. Boail. Due to my stature, I'm not frightening enough, Lady Chely isn't cut out to play the villain either, let alone Lady Amethely."

 Remembering Luna's words, Boail chuckled a little as he stared down the confused group. They all suddenly got a bad feeling about what was to come.

—Do not worry, Ms. Luna. I'm used to instilling fear.

 Without warning, an enormous amount of mana surged—Boail felt his body boil, his muscles growing as he became taller, his deep blue scales darkening to cover his whole body, filled with even denser mana. His crimson horn grew slightly—his once round pupils were shaped into a diamond—and they eyed them all like they were prey.

 ""…""

 The exhausted group was speechless—even among his soldiers, some had never seen this form, Boail's ascension state.

 "There is one condition," Boail spoke—even though he'd expressed it normally, it came across as a low growl meant to instill despair. "Last ten seconds."

 Before they knew it, everything in sight—their world turned a clouded dusk blue. Left senseless, they could not feel, no warmth nor cold, yet, they quivered. They could not hear, yet the silence screamed, searching in despair for their own thoughts.

 Just like that, more than a hundred people lost consciousness, leaving those who managed to come back with a horrific sight—their comrades demoralized, on their knees in defeat, some fell over, self-embracing as they quiver, screaming as they clasp their heads. But as they turned to Boail, they gulped.

 "For those who passed—brace yourselves."

A/N

Welp, there's a part 2 later. Though I was planning on two chapters, aka Part 1 and 2, I kind of… fell asleep a few times too many… so, 1 chapter haha…