I Became the Youngest Disciple of the Martial God

A very welcome face greeted me when I arrived at the dining hall.

With her distinctive monocle, impeccably neat attire, and auburn hair, Arzan stood waiting.

“Master.”

So even she’s adopting the title now.

Her expression remained as impassive as ever, but I could swear her complexion seemed a touch brighter than usual.

“My apologies for my delayed return. The handover took a little longer than expected...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s good to see you again.”

Arzan had been the head butler at the remote mansion where I’d been staying. It was not a small estate by any means, and given Arzan’s meticulous nature, it had been obvious the handover would be thorough.

That knowledge brought me a sense of peace.

“She is well, of course,” Arzan replied. Then in a slightly brighter tone, she added, “I heard about your outstanding results at the training camp. The lady will be delighted.”

“Thanks.”

I stared blankly at Arzan.

She looked slightly flustered as she asked, “Is there anything you require, Master...?”

“You have a divine-beast contract, don't you?”

“Pardon? Ah, yes, that is correct.”

Just as I’d thought. The explosive movements I’d seen in the Gem Mountains had to have been the power of a divine beast.

“Which divine beast do you have a contract with?”

“The Viridian Deer.”

“What stage?”

“Ascension.”

“Oho...”

Ascension was the third stage. Even though I’d managed to instantly reach the Augmentation stage through Lise’s abilities, Arzan was a level higher than me still.

In other words, she was my senior in divine-beast contracts.

I smiled faintly at her. “This is sudden, but I’ll soon leave for the academy. Would you mind being my attendant?”

***

The next day, I woke a little before the crack of dawn, probably because I’d gone to bed early with nothing better to do.

Moonlight bathed the world in its pale glow as I looked out the window.

It must be three or four in the morning.

With the sun not yet risen, it was too early to start circulation, but I’d gotten a good night’s rest, so I wasn’t tired enough to go back to sleep.

I decided to go for a walk and enjoy the fresh morning air.

After a quick warm-up, I thought about my time at the training camp and decided to take a stroll around the main house... but as I approached the deserted training grounds, I noticed I wasn’t alone.

For a moment, I thought back to my encounter with Mir at the training camp...

But the person standing there was someone I hadn’t expected to see at all.

Charon Woodjack.

He’s still at the main house?

That was surprising. The only ones left at the Bednicker estate were those hoping to attend the academy... and Charon didn’t exactly strike me as the academy type.

“Hiyah!”

What was he even doing up at this hour? Moonlight calisthenics?

I stopped jogging for a moment and observed him. He was wielding shortswords in both hands, but it didn’t look like any serious training or martial arts practice.

He just seemed to be swinging them around haphazardly.

After what felt like an eternity, Charon finally stopped and let out a frustrated curse. “Damn it!”

He was panting heavily. When he finally noticed my presence, he whirled around with a start. “You...”

“Burning the midnight oil, are we?”

Charon stared at me for a moment. Then, as if he’d lost his mind, he charged at me. The chilling moonlight glinted off his shortswords.

I had no idea what he was thinking, but I was rather bored, so I decided to indulge him.

I waited until he was almost upon me. Just as he entered my range, I closed the distance between us.

“...!”

Charon abruptly halted his advance, surprised by my sudden movement, but it was already too late. I struck his right wrist with a swift blow.

Thwack!

One of the shortswords clattered to the ground.

His body stiffened in pain, leaving him wide open. I seized the opportunity by grabbing his left arm and throwing him to the ground.

Thud!

I sat on his back as he lay face-down on the ground.

* * * * *

* * * * *

“Ugh...”

“Did you drink a stupidity potion or something?”

Charon, his chin buried in the dirt, didn’t answer immediately. His lips moved silently for a moment. Then, in a low voice, he finally said, “How can I...”

“Hm?”

“How can I become strong like you??”

“...”

Well, this was a first. No one had ever asked me that before.

I scratched my cheek, feeling a little awkward. “Don’t be so impatient. I was way weaker than you at your age.”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen—no, sixteen now.”

“I’m eighteen, though...” Charon responded, sounding bewildered.

I felt a wave of exasperation wash over me.

I can’t explain to him how much of a pathetic loser the eighteen-year-old Luan Bednicker was...

This called for a change of subject.

“So, what happened?” I asked.

Charon hesitated for a moment before, in a resigned voice, saying, “...After the training camp ended, I continued to spare with Hector Bednicker. Forty-five times in total.” His voice heavy with defeat, he continued, “And I lost every single time.”

“...”

“Today, he refused my request for a spar. I asked him if he was done fighting me now that he can beat me. Do you know what he said...?”

***

—...Give it a rest, Charon Woodjack. I commend your spirit, your refusal to back down despite your losses, but I see no improvement in you even after countless sparring sessions.

—Most of the young heroes who attended the training camp are still weaker than you. Like you said before, I might be inferior to you in areas outside of combat and swordsmanship... but we’ve all grown. Even someone like Hans Bender improved tremendously in the training camp.

—The only one who hasn’t changed, before or after the training camp... is you, Charon Woodjack. Perhaps you should be the one to answer my question.

—What did the Bednicker training camp mean to you?

For the first time in a long time, Charon was left speechless.

***

I mentally applauded Hector’s words. He’d been absolutely right.

Looking at Charon, who seemed to have shrunk in defeat, I asked, “Do you want to beat Hector?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re asking me, a Bednicker, for help with that?”

“...That’s right.”

“Hmm.” I chuckled. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

“...”

“You’re probably more talented than Hector. But he improved far more drastically than you in the training camp. Why do you think that was?”

“...I don’t know.”

I shrugged. “Neither do I.”

Stunned by my response, Charon let out an exasperated breath.

“Not knowing is why you lost,” I continued.

“What’s that supposed to—?”

“If you asked Hector the same question, he’d have a clear answer. He knows how to get stronger.”

“...”

“It’s still rough around the edges, but... he’s developed his own martial truth.”

Charon fell silent.

Then, with a hint of desperation in his voice, he asked, “Then teach me this... martial truth.”

“Don’t be a fucking moron. You can’t just teach someone martial truth! Everyone has different values and mindset.”

“...”

Charon didn’t seem to understand.

He wasn’t stupid, but sometimes he acted in a way that seemed disconnected from basic logic and reasoning.

I looked down at the back of his head. The feeling of dissonance I was experiencing, I had felt it a few times before.

“Was it your father who taught you?”

“...”

“He wasn’t a very good master, was he?”

Charon stirred beneath me. “My father was an excellent teacher...!”

“Go on.”

“He always taught me the optimal way to do things...! How to become stronger, how to survive, even the purpose of life...! I’m only alive today because of him!”

“So he spoon-fed you all the answers without giving you a chance to think for yourself. Hey, dumbass, how is that a good master? He should have at least let you find your own purpose in life.”

“What...?”

“I’ve never met Hyde Woodjack, but I can guess why he raised you the way he did. You’re not his disciple, you’re his substitute.”

I patted Charon’s head condescendingly.

He gritted his teeth and tried to get up, but fat chance of that. I pushed him back down as I chuckled.

“Grr...”

“...”

I realized I was angrier than I’d expected to be.

Everyone has their triggers. Some people can’t stand bad parents, while others get enraged by children who exploit their elderly parents.

It’s the same with one’s martial truth.

We all come from different walks of life, so it’s only natural that we get angry about different things.

And if there was one thing that really pissed me off, it was this.

A master who isn’t fit to teach.

“...If your so-called master forced his own goals and aspirations onto you, that’s not teaching, it’s indoctrination. You were taught all wrong. The struggle, the uncertainty, that’s all part of the process,” I berated Charon. “But look at you, you’re facing your first real challenge and you’re just lost, helpless.” I paused, and a long sigh escaped me. “If all you’re taught are the answers, then what’s the difference between a master and an answer sheet?”

Someone who has lived their whole life without a map will at least try to find their way, even if they don’t know where they’re going, but someone who’s always relied on a map will crumble the moment they lose it. They’ll just sit there and cry because their vision is too narrow.

But if you broaden your perspective, you can tell time by the position of the sun and you can navigate by the stars. Everything you can see becomes a map.

I had a feeling that Charon, of all people, understood this. But that was what made him so pitiful.

He was an expert in hunting and survival, but he had no idea how to apply those skills to life itself. That’s why he was here at the training grounds before dawn, pointlessly pushing himself to the limit.

Because he couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

“Are you going to keep doing this?” I asked.

“...”

“Are you going to run crying to your daddy every time you face a challenge, every time you’re lost and confused? Whether it’s sooner or later, the time will come when you have to stand on your own two feet.”

“Then what am I supposed to do...!” Charon’s voice was still rough, but there was a note of despair in it now. “I... I don’t know how to live any other way...!”

I sighed again.

In the training camp, Charon had been particularly hostile toward Evan.

What was it that Charon had said? That if Evan insisted on Raven, he wouldn’t make it into the top three?

It was strange that someone as indifferent to people as Charon would say such a thing to Evan, especially since Evan hadn’t even been doing that well at the time...

But now I understood. Evan never shut up about how much he admired his own father, and because of that, Charon envied him.

...What should I do, I wonder?

Part of me wanted to just walk away.

Charon hadn’t exactly been the most likable guy at the training camp. But now that I’d talked to him, I couldn’t help but feel sorry. He was just as much of a mess as I’d been in the past.

One thing was for sure: Hyde, Charon’s father, didn’t see Charon as his son.

I stood up, and Charon scrambled to his feet, immediately on guard again. He looked like a wary stray dog.

“Charon.”

“...What?”

“You want to know how to get stronger, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Then I guess I have no choice but to show you how I got strong.”

I balled my hand into a fist and took a step toward him.

Charon flinched back. “W-wait! You don’t have to slap me–”

“Nah, my master wasn’t really one for slapping.”

Fwoosh.

I gathered fire ki in my fist.

“As a matter of fact, I’m free for the next two days. So... I’ll full-heartedly mold you, like I have a new junior brother.”

Charon’s face paled.

***

The next two days flew by—at least for me.

Monday morning...

As soon as the sun rose, the young heroes boarded the carriage bound for the Imperial City.

“This is a carriage...?”

“It’s like a mansion...”

The country bumpkins, Evan and Karis, could barely find their words—they were too in awe of the enormous carriage.

To be honest, I was pretty surprised myself. It wasn’t quite a mansion, but it was the size of an average house, and the horses pulling it were twice the size of any normal horse.

“We’ll get to the Imperial City in no time in this thing.”

“It’ll still take at least a week.”

Of course, long journeys were always unpredictable. The biggest factor was the weather. If we got caught in a heavy downpour, we could be delayed for days.

“I could live in this carriage forever...”

“I second that.”

The interior of the carriage was spacious. It could easily accommodate ten people, maybe even twenty.

Since it was just the young heroes inside, the atmosphere was quite lively. Of course, it probably helped that the more serious types—namely Hector and Sellen—were in a different compartment.

“There are so many places I want to visit in the Imperial City,” Karis said excitedly. “The swords schools, the magic towers, the history museums dedicated to the seven races and the 21 Heroes, various art galleries... they even have plays that are only performed in the Imperial City!”

“They have the biggest publishing house in The Empire there! My dream, the Empire Journal! And they have these things called trains that can get you from the north side of the city to the south side in an hour!”

Karis and Pam were particularly excited. They seemed to have the most romanticized view of the Imperial City of all the young heroes.

“Say, Luan, why are you here with us instead of with your elder brother and your fiancée?”

“Ex-fiancée, remember? And it’s too boring over there.”

Hector wasn’t exactly the best conversationalist. Even when we’d shared a carriage on the way to the training camp, we’d barely spoken a word. I’d almost dozed off.

Sellen was a little better, but she was always so conscious of her image in public that it took a lot of the fun out of teasing her.

“Yeah. Big Bro says he prefers it here,” said a low voice.

Every cadet present turned to look at the source with a bewildered gaze.

Completely unfazed by all the attention, Charon Woodjack glared back at them. “What are you all staring at? Got a problem with Big Bro?”