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Chapter 12

Chapter: 12

With the skill of Unbreakable Will, I didn’t think I would lose to anyone else in terms of tenacity.

However, today I found out something.

Heaven above heaven.

There is always a higher level to everything.

The stamina that Possell possessed was at a level I couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

How the hell is this damn old man teaching me for six hours straight and still bursting with energy?

Just how high is his stamina stat?

My hand holding the mace was trembling.

The arm holding the shield seemed to have a mind of its own, possibly due to blocking way too many attacks.

Thanks to moving without rest, my lungs felt like they were about to rip, and my brain had long ceased to function.

The skill was mechanically forcing me to my feet, but at this moment, I felt closer to a zombie than a human.

A zombie awkwardly shuffling its body in accordance with instinct.

“Miss?”

But even that was reaching its limit.

I think I’ve held out incredibly well.

As I mentioned before, will is merely will.

When the body hits its limit, I have no choice but to obey.

What am I trying to say?

“Possell.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“I’m going to sleep now, so don’t touch me, you crazy training addict.”

You are a seriously hardcore training addict, you know that?

What? Can’t accept it? Prove it in a spar!

A spar, you say?

No way! I hate sparring! I’d rather do a duel…

*

That evening, as Possell was brewing himself a drink in his room, he heard an unmistakable presence outside the door and called out.

“Your Lordship, feel free to come in.”

“Ahem. Did you know I was coming?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly trying to hide it now, were you?”

The door swung open, revealing Benedict.

Possell wasn’t the least bit flustered by his sudden appearance. Usually, Benedict would be holed up in his office until late at night, but I had already been expecting him.

“You’ve come because of Miss Lucy, right?”

“Indeed. May I sit?”

“Of course.”

When Benedict plopped down across from Possell, the desk was hilariously full on both sides.

For an average person, two could sit comfortably at one side, and maybe three if they were exceptionally cozy, but with these two bulky figures next to each other, the table looked limited to just two.

“Let’s share a drink; it’s been a while.”

“What kind of drink?”

“I looted it from the vampire’s castle when we raided it earlier. I showed it to a guy who knows his alcohol, and his hands started shaking.”

“So, what’s its name?”

“I can’t remember. All I could think of was how shocked he was when he saw it before he fainted, so I couldn’t recall the name.”

Possell chuckled and cheekily remarked that it must be delicious since it was so rare.

As he got up to find a glass, Benedict interjected.

“Did you know I would come?”

“Everyone in this house knows that the Count can’t resist fussing over Miss Lucy.”

“…Ahem.”

Benedict coughed in discomfort but couldn’t outright deny Possell’s statement.

He was guilty of many transgressions out of sheer love for his daughter.

“What do you think of Lucy?”

“She’s talented.”

Possell responded without a moment’s hesitation.

He’d taught many people along the way—from world-renowned geniuses to hopeless cases who had no talent yet became knights purely through effort.

In Possell’s eyes, Lucy was undeniably talented.

She possessed more than a couple of talents, but her most outstanding ability was her skill with a shield.

Typically, newcomers to shield fighting only use it defensively.

They get so caught up with the shield that they panic and focus only on blocking incoming attacks.

But Lucy was different. She had the knack for unveiling the shield’s true potential.

Not only did she block, but at times she’d disrupt the opponent’s momentum, pushing them back and making things difficult for them.

Even while doing so, she never slacked on her own defense.

This wasn’t just an ordinary talent; it was nothing short of a divine gift!

Even without proper training, she was already at this level.

Just imagine how monstrous she could become after months or years refining her skills!

“Clearly, the blood of the Allen family cannot be understated. If it were up to me, I’d like to take her under my wing continuously. Lady Lucy is destined to etch her name in history.”

“I appreciate the compliment on my daughter, but that’s not quite what I wanted to discuss.”

“Ah, I see.”

You’re referring to Lady Lucy’s transformation, aren’t you?

She’s undergone a dramatic shift in the past few days. One knight even said she wouldn’t change like this even if she died and came back to life.

Lucy had never been particularly tenacious.

She was so weak that it was hard to believe she was the daughter of the Iron Blood Lord. If anything was even slightly difficult, she would toss it aside without a second thought.

It’s no wonder other nobles questioned whether she truly was the daughter of the Iron Blood Lord.

But one day, everything changed.

Possell first witnessed her transformation when she started showing up at the training grounds.

Sporting her mace and shield, she was the epitome of grit.

No one could deny her relentless dedication as she trained day in and day out, to the point that even seasoned knights would stand in awe.

Although her methods might seem bizarre to typical knights, she clearly delivered results with her unique approach.

“What do you think?”

“It’s a positive change. Anyone you ask would say the same.”

If you were to ask who’s better—the old Lucy or the current one—everyone would unanimously pick the present-day Lucy.

It’s true that her manners are still lacking for a noble, but compared to her previously atrocious behavior, this is practically nothing!

“Exactly! But still…”

“Are you worried about something?”

“To be honest… yes.”

Sudden changes aren’t always a good thing.

Even if everything seems fine on the surface, the insides might be rotting away.

Benedict, who had experiences similar to this, wasn’t entirely convinced about Lucy’s transformation being entirely positive.

“Like you know, my daughter was quite twisted due to this incompetent father.”

“Indeed.”

As Benedict berated himself, Possell nodded empathetically.

“Ever since my wife passed, I’ve spoiled her too much. She’s become hopelessly incorrigible.”

Lucy had indeed made many a poor choice.

But if we ask if it was all entirely her fault, it’d be a stretch.

The faults of a child ultimately reflect on the parents, after all.

Had Benedict raised her a bit more strictly, perhaps her tyrannies wouldn’t have reached such extremes.

“To think a child like that could suddenly come to her senses overnight. That’s definitely not normal.”

“Right.”

“Any thoughts on why? Didn’t you observe Lucy the whole day?”

“That’s the Count’s job to figure out.”

Benedict averted his eyes as Possell offered sincere counsel. He still lacked the confidence to face his daughter genuinely.

Clearly caring and loving, yet simultaneously fearful of approaching her openly, Possell sighed at the sight of this hopeless father.

Wasn’t Lucy’s wild behavior similar to her father’s?

Raking his fingers through his hair, he downed the wine in his glass in one go and spoke.

“Perhaps the lady has been blessed.”

“Blessed?”

“Yes. That fool Karl claimed that after enduring Lady Lucy’s provocations, he found it difficult to control his emotions.”

Though he had committed one unforgivable mistake, up until then, Karl had been an exemplary knight.

In extreme situations, he had carried out his duties with nothing but cold determination, never overstepping the line.

It was only natural that everyone hoped he wouldn’t be punished.

If he couldn’t even manage his own feelings, then perhaps the excuse he gave yesterday might not have been an excuse after all.

“Blessed, you say?”

“If that’s true, isn’t that sufficient reason for someone to change overnight?”

“Absolutely.”

It isn’t uncommon for divine blessings to turn a person’s life upside down in an instant. Such scenarios are hardly rare.

If Lucy indeed received a blessing, as Possell suspected, then her transformation was probably linked to it.

“If that’s the case, there’s really no reason to worry too much, but… a blessing?”

“If true, that’s a good thing! One day, Miss Lucy will have to carry on the family legacy and fulfill her noble duties. It can only help her!”

Benedict said nothing in reply, snatching the wine bottle from Possell and pouring it into his own glass.

Taking a sip, he grimaced at the complex flavors dancing across his palate.

“It appears to be high-quality, but it’s just not to my taste.”

“A noble like you can’t appreciate wine?”

“Give me the dwarven brews any day. They’re way better.”

As Benedict grumbled, Possell chuckled and poured wine for himself as well.

“We’re heading to Evans Dungeon in a week, then.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Please take good care of our daughter until I return.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like we’re going to Evans Dungeon for any danger. Nothing will happen.”

*

After surviving a few hellish days with Possell, I arrived at the training grounds to spot Karl warming up.

He was racing around, lifting weights that must have weighed twice his size.

From the way he was sweating buckets, it didn’t seem like he had been at it for only ten or twenty minutes.

Isn’t his punishment over since he just got out of prison? What’s going on here?

As I was stretching while watching him, that bald knight who had suddenly become friendly approached me.

“Back again, are we, young lady?”

‘Hello, sir.’

“Hey there, baldy! Still shining bright today, I see?”

“Of course! I clean it every day!”

This knight, brimming with pride over his shiny head, somehow interpreted being called “bald” as a compliment.

Thanks to this, no matter how many times I ribbed him in Mesugaki, it hardly ever had any impact.

‘So, sir, why is Karl doing that?’

“Bald knight! Why on earth is that sorry guy running around like this?”

“He’s being punished.”

The bald knight explained that this confinement was a punishment set by his family, separate from any consequences from the knight order.

Wait, is that punishment what he’s doing right now? That’s like running around in full gear at a military base.

“How long will he be at it?”

“He’ll keep it up until he leaves for battle.”

“By ‘keep it up,’ you mean excluding time for sleep and meals, right? Right? You wouldn’t make him run without sleep!”

“I think he’ll probably keep doing it.”

Whoa. I guess in this game world, the level of punishment is no joke.

You want him to run like that all day?

Aren’t you just asking him to run until he drops?

That’s problematic; he’s my subordinate!

“It’ll be alright. I endured something similar for over a week once.”

‘… And how are you still alive after all that?’

“Still alive and kicking, thanks to being a knight!”

So, the notion of knights in the Soul Academy is a different beast than I remember?

Thinking it through, maybe it isn’t that far off.

“By the way, young lady, there’s a message from Possell.”

‘What is it?’

“What did he say?”

“He wants you to warm up and then come to the sparring area. He thinks you should experience actual combat before heading out tomorrow.”

Actual combat? Here, in this training ground?


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