The God-Possessed Swordsmanship Genius - Chapter 30

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Divine Spirit Swordsman Genius, Chapter 30

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How many laps had they run around the training ground?
Blanc, the youngest, who had long given up on counting, gasped out the question.

“Haah, how long, do we, have to keep running? Huff.”

It was a question asked on behalf of the other seniors of Second Squad running alongside him.
The run had already stretched past a full hour.
What’s more, the pace was brutal, and Allen had even restricted the use of mana.

“Until you collapse.”
“…Huh?”
“Does half-hearted effort build anything? You only get stronger by pushing past your limits.”

At Allen’s words, several faces went pale.
Among them were those who had neglected their physical training and had already reached their limits. Each time, they had leaned on mana for help.
But every time, Allen spotted it at once, as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

“You there with the pointy head! Kalvin, was it? Don’t you dare use mana just because you’re tired! Your stamina won’t grow that way!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Hey! You haven’t even tired yet, and you’re already falling behind? If you can’t keep up, you’re running again this afternoon!”
“Aaaaargh!”

Even while running, Allen kept driving the other squad members forward.
He watched who was slacking off, who was adjusting their pace, who was secretly using mana, and who was pretending to be exhausted even though they still had plenty left.
Bigla, who was running right behind Allen, was in pure agony.

‘Damn it! How is he running this well?’

Allen ran faster than anyone. Yet even so, he looked after the other squad members, and his breathing never once faltered.
His basic stamina was far superior. It was so much that no one could possibly keep up with him.
Once the run went past the one-hour mark, people began dropping out one or two at a time.
Even while running, Allen kept his eyes on who fell behind first and how each person ran.

‘The deputy squad leader has the most fire in her. And her stamina is good. Beyond her, there’s Pliot, Hamil, Flandre…’

In the end, the only ones left standing were Allen and Mary.
Mary’s face had turned nearly white, and the run only ended once she looked on the verge of collapse.

“Finally, it’s over.”
“Hhhaaaahhh…”

Gasping and steaming with exhaustion, about half of the squad members flopped down onto the training ground floor.
Just as it seemed they might catch their breath for a moment.

“Next, this.”

Allen produced from somewhere an iron sword with a heavy iron weight attached to its hilt.
As if giving a demonstration, Allen swung the sword with the weighted iron bar.

Whoosh—

A heavy sound that tore through the air.
At that sound, the squad members who had been sprawled on the ground shot up to their feet.

“You’ve all done this before, so I won’t bother explaining. Let’s get started.”
“W-wait, swinging the iron rod?”
“This is insane…”

Grumbling broke out among the squad at the sight of such an obviously brutal drill.
Iron rod swinging.
It was a training regimen meant to build overall strength in the arms, shoulders, and legs.
Alongside endless running, it was also the basic drill that swordsmen dreaded most.

‘Are we really supposed to do that right now?’
‘My legs have no strength left at all…’
‘Just kill me already!’

The squad members had already reached their physical limits from the running.
Still, none of them could bring themselves to complain out loud.
That was because Allen, the one leading the training, had run faster than anyone and never once stopped until the very end.
Even now, it was plain to see.
Allen demonstrated without a word and immediately began swinging the iron rod.
Even he seemed to be running low on strength, his arms visibly trembling, yet still he went on.

‘Damn it.’
‘Let’s do this.’
‘We can’t let the new squad leader see us looking pathetic.’
‘We lost in swordsmanship, but there’s no way we’re losing at this.’

The squad members who had been sprawled on the ground climbed to their feet and picked up the swords with the iron rods attached.
The rods felt several times heavier than usual. Swinging them with their strength already spent was something none of them had ever done before.

But after the Insu Rye the day before, their pride had been bruised past the point of repair.
With only a few exceptions, most of the squad clung to Allen’s training with grim determination.
Groans and gasps rang out from every corner of the Training Ground. Through it all, Allen kept his form steady, swinging the rod at an even pace.

Whoosh!

A heavy force sliced through the air.
Controlling the weight of the iron rod while still swinging the sword with precision was no easy feat.
On top of that, the rod attached to the Iron Sword kept swaying from side to side, so one had to control the wobble at the tip of the blade.
Allen was struggling just as much.
The rod Allen held was twice as heavy as the others.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve done this kind of training.’

It had once been part of his daily routine.
Stamina, strength, flexibility.
These three were the foundation of a swordsman, and cultivating them steadily was a lifelong task.
And Allen had lived a life in which that foundation was everything.

‘I’ve been so absorbed in swordsmanship these past few days. From now on, I need balance.’

Ever since the curse was lifted and he could accumulate mana again, Allen’s training had leaned heavily in one direction.
He built up mana through cultivation, then used that mana to practice the Seongshin-ryu sword forms and techniques.
But he had to accept that his body now was not the same as it had been in his previous life, and it needed conditioning.
After all, superb swordsmanship only truly reveals its worth when it rests upon a perfect body.
And so the basic physical training that had lasted the entire morning came to an end.

“That’s it for the morning session. Good work, everyone.”
“Haah, haah… haaah.”
“Hhaaaaah.”
“Thank you for your hard work, s-sir, u-urgh…!”

Only Allen and Mary were still on their feet. Mary’s face was pale as well, but she held herself with the dignity expected of a deputy squad leader.
Allen addressed the squad members sprawled across the ground.

“Accumulating mana and mastering the sword are important, but the foundation of both is the training of the body. In the end, you can only fill a vessel once it’s big enough to hold something.”

It was something his master from his previous life had told him.
If filling the vessel was cultivation and enlightenment, then forging the vessel itself was training.

“From now on, morning drills will be physical conditioning. Unless you have a mission, there are no exceptions. As for sword practice, I trust you’ll all manage it on your own.”

At that, several faces went pale.
Just imagining having to keep up this kind of training from now on, a wave of exhaustion washed over him already.
That was when it happened.

Thud.

Allen, who had just declared the morning drills over, started running across the training ground again.

“He’s running again?”
“That lunatic…”

The squad members, wearing expressions of pure exhaustion, glanced at one another.
What now?
They didn’t have to deliberate for long.
Mary shot up from her spot and started running after Allen.
Watching her, the squad members could only sigh.
If she was going, they had no choice but to run as well.

* * *

By afternoon, the entire Second Squad had collapsed onto the ground.
Now there was truly no one who could still move.

“I can’t even eat…”
“Who runs laps twice in one day?”
“I think I’m going to throw up… bleeeugh!”
“Ugh, gross… blaaaargh!”

The Second Training Ground was nothing short of a battlefield.
Even though it was mealtime, not a single person was moving. That included Mary, the deputy squad leader.
Having followed Allen more doggedly than anyone, her face had drained completely white.

“Deputy Squad Leader, are you alright?”
“Don’t talk to me. I feel like I’m going to die.”
Why did you push yourself so hard? Couldn’t you have collapsed in moderation instead?

At Bigla’s remark, Mary scrunched up her face.
From somewhere in the middle, I barely remembered anything. I’d have to say I followed in a half-trance.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d pushed past my limits like this.
And yet, the reason I chased after Allen was just one.

“Because I want to be like that person.”
“Huh?”

Bigla doubted his own ears.
Like that person? What did she mean?
Bigla’s gaze drifted toward Allen, who was still running alone.
With everyone else collapsed.
Allen was still running.

“That young one… like the Squad Leader?”

Bigla had been about to say, *brat*, but he faltered. The word refused to leave his mouth.
Allen looked ready to collapse at any moment, yet he didn’t stop. He should have reached his limit long ago, but still he kept going.
Regardless of age, it was enough to command respect.
In the span of a single day, Bigla’s opinion of Allen had turned completely around.

“If you’ve got eyes, you can see for yourselves what kind of person the Squad Leader is, can’t you?”

Mary’s words made the squad members hesitate.
These were the ones who, stubborn to the end, still hadn’t accepted Allen even after going through the Insu Rye.
Even they couldn’t deny what they had witnessed from Allen during today’s training.

“Yesterday’s defeat wasn’t just some random loss. Talent? When did we ever admit the Squad Leader had any talent?”

The Curse of Bima is often called the worst talent a swordsman can have.
The Second Squad’s resentment toward their new leader stemmed precisely from the fact that someone like him had been made their Squad Leader.
Even so, Allen outdid them in every way.

“That’s exactly why he’s better than us despite his young age. Age? Talent? The new Squad Leader has something that goes beyond all of that.”
“Ugh…”
“Makes me want to reflect on myself.”
“I’m ashamed, truly.”

Several of them lowered their heads in shame and rose to their feet.
As long as they had even a shred of stamina left, they meant to somehow keep up with Allen’s training.
But just then.

“What’s all this?”

Unlike the squad members who were barely clinging to life, a voice thick with amusement rang out from the far end of the training ground.

“Sprawled on the ground, crawling about. What a mess, really.”

The gazes of the fallen squad members turned toward the voice.
Narrow, snake-like eyes. A long, lanky frame. A man with his hair grown out and hanging loose.

“First Squad Leader.”
“Shouldn’t you say ‘Mister’? Deputy Squad Leader Mary.”

He was Casar, Squad Leader of the First Squad of Bigeom.
Casar was accompanied by three members. One was a deputy squad leader like Mary, and the other two were the power players of the First Squad.
The First Squad, with the best results, and the Second Squad, with the worst.
An invisible wall stood between the two. They belonged to the same unit, yet the First Squad had always stood above the Second.

“…What brings you here, First Squad Leader Casar?”
“I heard you had a new Squad Leader for the Second, so I thought I’d come pay my respects.”
“Our Squad Leader is busy at the moment.”
“Not just your Squad Leader, everyone looks busy. What kind of training have you been doing? Sweat stink and vomit… how vulgar.”

Casar wrinkled his nose dramatically and pinched it shut. He looked as though the Second Squad members sprawled on the ground were something filthy he’d stepped in.

“Deputy Squad Leader Mary. Don’t be so stubborn, just come over to the First Squad. I can’t promise you the deputy post, but I’ll make sure you’re treated well.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the authority to transfer personnel.”
“I know, transfers are the Corps Leader’s call. That’s exactly why I’m offering to put in a good word for you, isn’t it?”

Casar smiled lightly and let his gaze drift over the other squad members.

“When you rub shoulders with a bunch of rice-eating bums long enough, you can’t help but rub off on them, Mary.”
“What did you just say… Ah!”

Bigla shot up from his seat in a huff, only to topple backward onto the floor.
His strength had already been drained, and his legs gave way the moment he tried to stand too quickly.
At Bigla’s sorry display, the First Squad swordsmen who had come with Casar burst out laughing.

“Second Squad is as hopeless as ever.”

Bigla’s face flushed a furious red.
Of all the people he least wanted to see him at his most pathetic, he had shown his most wretched self to exactly those men.
Casar, who had been sniggering at Second Squad for a while, turned his body away.

“Looks like now isn’t the time for greetings. Another time, then…”
“Seems like you’ve got plenty of time on your hands.”

Casar whipped around in surprise.
Allen, exhausted from training, stood behind him, though Casar had no idea when he’d come so close.

“Wandering around at this hour without even breaking a sweat.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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