Chapter 19

The clenched fist in front of his chest vanished and expanded to fill his field of vision. Worm, relying on his dynamic vision, bent his upper body and shifted the line of his head. The air pushed out by the swing rustled his hair like a gentle breeze.

"Your hands are fast!!"

The one he released without using his waist and with all his strength was a blow that prioritized speed. Originally, it was a type of strike used for feinting, but it was far from gentle. If it hit the face, it would cause one to stagger backward, spitting out saliva. The thorough greeting was still ongoing.

"I hate both making and being made to wait!!!"

As the left fist was pulled back, a powerful blow approached. If the direct hit from the step-in landed, his body might float into the air. Worm, who prioritized evasion, lowered his feet as if scraping the ground, while the instructor, who punched the air, maintained his smile. Rather, he used the momentum to make contact with his body. At first glance, it seemed like a simple body check, but in reality, it was a sophisticated technique that also aimed to unbalance the opponent. Several options and the distance were closed off.

"Quite passionate, aren't you?"

Only because their skin touched could he read the peculiar physique. Worm, who engaged in a push and shove like a tree with deep roots, possessed neither manliness nor foolishness. Before his balance was completely disrupted, he pulled his shoulder and slid his foot to the side. If the core of his center of gravity wasn't caught, there was still a chance to deflect it. As Worm slipped to the side, Deborah attempted a spin, using one foot as an axis. Her agility, which didn't match her large frame, was like a dance.

Before the opponent could turn around, Worm thrust his fist into the side. However, his face contorted at the sensation. It wasn't the familiar feel of hitting a leather bag filled with sand, but rather the shock and dull pain of striking marble with bare hands.

"Ugh, is that a human's side?"

"You did well."

As he tried to follow up, a half-boot approached in a trajectory that seemed to crawl along the ground. It was almost a kick. If he jumped back, the line of the kick would pass through where his calf had been. The first goal was to seal his mobility. Such a low kick was no joke.

"Hmph"

Worm tapped his feet and moved his upper body in small, shaking motions. As the distance opened, a punch was thrown. The blow, with its bent elbow and wrist, was difficult to pinpoint. He knocked it down with an open hand and deflected the second blow with his elbow. Slipping into the opponent's guard, he struck the side again. If the liver was hit, the body would stiffen as if paralyzed, but paradoxically, his anger swelled.

A sharp point seemed to rise in the corner of his vision. A knee strike aimed at the chest, which could shatter the ribs if it landed. Worm avoided it by shifting his upper body, but the flickering shadow revealed that it was a feint. The诱导 to look at the lower section, the main blow was a powerful right. She was quite skilled, contrary to her appearance.

Tracing the powerful blow that extended like a spear with his eyes, he dodged just before impact. Taking advantage of the opportunity created by the wide swing, he was about to counterattack without hesitation when his vision wavered and a dull pain ran through his cheek. The blood seeping from his cut mouth revealed the situation.

He couldn't handle it. In response to the downward strike, a punch was launched at his torso. While blocking it with both hands and absorbing the impact flexibly, he suddenly felt a floating sensation. Literally lifted, Worm landed with a loud thud, scattering dust. His palms tingled as if they were electrified.

"Ugh"

"Ah, having good eyes is also a problem, isn't it?"

Deborah opened and closed her fist, showing the mechanism as if it were a cat's paw. The result of hastily attempting the next move. He was hit by a relaxed punch just before he dodged. Whether it was a trap or a reflex, it was a considerable skill. Spitting out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth, Worm stared at the instructor in front of him.

"I wanted to see those eyes once!!!"

"Is that so?"

Worm, correctly interpreting the instructor's request, charged forward. He exchanged blows, left, right, left, and deflected punches with his shoulder and elbow. Despite his incredibly tough abs, after four or five punches, a sigh finally escaped. Still, neither of them stopped moving, and the exchange of blows intensified.

In response to a backhand blow that seemed to sweep, he kicked the side of his calf. As he repositioned his upper body, the heaviest blow of the day approached. The pressure of the punch, which seemed to come from directly above, made Worm step in without dodging. The punches slid and intertwined like snakes crawling on a branch.

A dull collision sound echoed through the training ground. The captured fist belonged to Worm. This time, it was the familiar feel. The punch that caught the center line of the body, and especially the face, was enough to break Deborah's nose. Fresh blood spurted and dripped to the ground.

"Good makeup. It suits you."

In response, Deborah, as if straightening her bent nose, flicked the clump of blood into the air. She showed no sign of hesitation or wavering. Thus, she began her response to the flirtatious words.

"In front of the boss, you're inviting me, aren't you!!!"

Like a love-struck maiden, Deborah's cheeks turned red as she barked.

◆

Since arriving on the Celta Peninsula, Fliug had been extremely busy. In addition to the usual duties of his squad, he had to handle communication and coordination with the Myard Kingdom's army. Recently, they had just finished discussions on joint training and deployment in emergencies. Moreover, as an ally, Celta required special consideration.

It's easy to say "equal," but in practice, everything required prior communication and coordination. If they had a long-standing cooperative relationship, they might have some established methods, but the two countries were still in the early stages. Tomorrow's schedule and the soldiers' training swirled in his head. There was always more to do. While walking and deep in thought, Fliug was interrupted by a loud human voice.

"Is this Instructor Deborah's training? But if it is—"

To turn a weak citizen into a soldier, it was necessary to drain their physical strength and spirit and rebuild their thinking. Instructor Deborah's training, known for its harsh methods, usually involved a lot of shouting, but today was different. The sounds were more like cheers than screams or shouts.

Perhaps it would be useful for something. Intrigued, Fliug headed to the training ground. The cheers grew louder and louder. A crowd had gathered in the center. Not just the instructors, but infantry, sailors, and cavalry, regardless of rank or unit, were gathered in a single mass, sharing in the excitement.

"Guardian Worm!?"

Peering through a gap, Fliug froze. The imperial knights were fighting each other with the intensity of a life-or-death struggle. His opponent was Instructor Deborah, who had demonstrated her martial prowess at Dandueg Castle. Among the crowd, Fliug recognized a familiar face and asked.

"Hey, what's all the commotion about?"

"U-um, Captain!! Guardian Worm and Instructor Deborah are sparring hand-to-hand."

"I can see that. What else is going on?"

At the feet of his subordinate, there were piles of alcohol and tobacco. Aware of their wrongdoing, the soldier hesitated but answered.

"Well, it started with a bet on dinner, but then it turned into a pile of alcohol and other items."

The soldier's voice grew smaller. Moise, the assistant instructor, was busily collecting items and distributing wooden chips as betting tokens. Yogim was keeping a record of the participants. It was clear that the Deborah family was running the betting. That's why adventurers are so troublesome. They were doing their thing with grim faces. Fliug, feeling a headache, alternated his gaze between the pile of items and the faces of his subordinates.

"So, how's the betting going?"

"Um, the Guardian is at four, and the Instructor is at six. No one can match the Instructor's hand-to-hand combat, so the Myard and Felius teams are all in."

Fliug snorted.

"Four for the Guardian? Are you all blind or stupid? That's the Guardian. What did you see at Dandueg? Fine, I'll bet a barrel of wine on the Guardian."

The Haiselk soldiers were excited by the captain's bold bet.

"Hey, the Haiselk captain is betting a barrel!"

"Let's bet too, we won't lose!!"

The hot-tempered Celta sailors raised their voices. The Myard soldiers, caught up in the excitement, piled on more items. The Deborah family, who were running the betting, were the ones who would benefit.

"Captain... is this okay?"

"Sometimes it's necessary to let off steam. It's a bit extreme, but it fosters camaraderie."

With the strict captain's approval, the soldiers dove into the betting like fish in water.

Fliug didn't reveal his true thoughts. Instructor Deborah was a formidable woman who had elevated her bare hands to a weapon. Fliug respected her skills. On the other hand, Guardian Worm had no axe, no magic, and couldn't even use "Strong Strike" or "Ghost Fire." It was a significant handicap. But what did it matter that he was unarmed? The Guardian was still the Guardian. That was enough.

As if to confirm Fliug's thoughts, a collision sound that drowned out the cheers echoed. Blood flew through the air. Their arms crossed, and the Guardian's fist struck the face. Deborah, straightening her broken nose, used a magic barrier to stop the bleeding and continued the fight.

Fliug's spine shivered, and he was captivated by the exchange of punches. Setting aside his position as captain, he decided to enjoy the outcome of the hand-to-hand combat. Sometimes, it's good to have a day like this.