The Imperial Supreme Commander Has Returned - Chapter 7

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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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The Empire’s Supreme Commander Has Returned — Episode 7

Patter, patter, patter.

The last of the straw debris fell, late in coming.
Delram caught it and gazed down at his spear.

“What is this.”

No matter how he looked at it, this was no legendary weapon.
Just a training spear lying around anywhere, common as dirt.
The shaft had even warped, likely from cheap, poor-quality wood.

And yet with such a low-grade spear, he’d sent an Iron Helmet flying.
Without even channeling Mana into it.

‘That’s insane power.’

But instead of rejoicing, Delram’s eyes narrowed.
For someone mediocre, it would pose no problem.
A sudden thrust like that appearing mid-fight?
Then you could only bow in gratitude, bewildered as you were.

But if he himself were a master—that was another matter entirely.
Combat was, at its core, a contest of whose tactics proved superior.
Every attack naturally flowed according to his calculations, landed as intended, shifted as needed.

Yet if some technique randomly emerged from nowhere?
The entire board he had calculated would crumble.

‘That’s useless.’

And so it was with that thrust just now.
A technique whose trigger he didn’t even understand.
No matter how powerful, it was worthless to him.
Worse than useless, in fact.

Click.

Delram flicked his thumb, opening the socket hanging from his neck.
A Leaf tucked behind a portrait of his mother.
Its fragrance seeped deep into his lungs, sharpening his mind.

What burned in Delram’s eyes then was profound curiosity.
Since receiving the title of Weapon Master.
He had prided himself on knowing every aspect of every weapon in existence, if not mastering them all perfectly.

Yet now, a completely new realm had emerged.
For Delram, it was a situation that could only set his blood aflame.
Because before he was Supreme Commander, he was a Knight who strove endlessly.

“You don’t know why it works?”

And so it’s useless?
Impossible.
Then he would simply keep trying until he understood.

The sun now hung at its zenith.
He had plenty of time yet to uncover this mystery.
Just the thought made the palm gripping the spear itch with anticipation.

Whee-shaaack!

Delram’s spear carved through the air once more.
Dozens, hundreds, thousands of times over.

* * *

“Thrust!”
“Hah!”
“Draw!”
“Ho!”

Five days had passed since spear training began.
In the Training Grounds, the trainees’ motions of thrusting and withdrawing the spear had shed much of the stiffness they’d shown at first.
The power of repetition.
No matter how raw they were, if you drilled nothing but that single form until your hands bled, something took hold eventually.

In truth, Conscripts had nothing more than that to learn.
Stabbing the enemy in front of you. That was all.

Of course, on a Battlefield, chaos was inevitable.
But what good would anything else do?
Packed shoulder to shoulder in Battle Formation, even if they learned something more sophisticated, they’d never get the chance to use it—and they’d die with a hundred percent certainty.

Better to spend that time reciting prayers instead.
Praying it never came to that.

Of course, Delram was not the only one training hard.
He burned with the same fire as they did.

Delram was receiving private instruction from the Senior Instructor.
In the Exclusive Instructor Training Grounds, just the two of them.

“The sword’s strength lies in its versatility. It cuts with deadly grace, thrusts with precision, parries with grace.”

Swish, slice, thwack!

“But that versatility demands mastery of every application with equal precision. This is why the Imperial Sword Technique, with only seven forms, is far more demanding than the spear arts with twelve.”

The second day’s lesson began this way.
Ten minutes of instruction—the seven forms of Imperial Sword mastered.

“Next, I will teach you the blunt weapons. Their varieties are many, but on the Battlefield only three see common use: the Mace, the Hammer, and the Morning Star. Today we train the Morning Star. The Morning Star carries chains, and so―”

The third day’s lesson.
Ten minutes of instruction—five forms of Imperial Blunt Weapons mastered.

“Next is the bow. The bow has merely three forms: Single Shot, Rapid Fire, and Curved Shot. Yet it follows different principles than melee arms, making it considerably more difficult to master. Therefore, a different sort of talent would be―”

The fourth day’s lesson.
Ten minutes of instruction—three forms of Imperial Archery mastered.

“If Knights and Mages are the masters of the Battlefield, then Tactics form the ground beneath their feet. The sum of all methods for victory in singular combat—encirclement, ambush, luring, defense―”

Fifth day, morning.
Fior Kingdom Army Tactics mastered.

“Ah… the distinction between Tactics and Strategy is plain. Tactics wins you [battles]; Strategy wins you [wars]. Tactics without Strategy is mere noise before defeat, as the saying goes―”

Fifth day, afternoon.
Fior Kingdom Army Strategy Education—Mastered!

……

The Senior Instructor found himself speechless.
What manner of madman was this?

The path to becoming an instructor was never easy.
First, they selected veterans who had seen combat.
Then they taught them everything Delram had learned—spearwork, swordplay, archery, blunt-force techniques, strategy, tactics, and more.
Only once a soldier could execute at least one of these disciplines flawlessly were they promoted to the rank of instructor.

Soldiers failed out of this process in countless numbers.
Out of a hundred, perhaps one-third became instructors.

‘It took me ten years to master these skills.’

The Senior Instructor had required even longer.
He had to master all six disciplines.

Unmistakably an officer’s rank.
Apart from the Commandant himself, his position was the highest in the Training Facility.

-A promising recruit has arrived. If any free-time instructors are available, might you spare time to oversee some spearwork instruction?

That was why, even when Obern—a recruiting officer and Knight—had made the request,
the Senior Instructor himself had no obligation to step in personally.
He had simply volunteered out of personal gratitude.
But now……

‘Is this man truly a monster?’

There were limits to human capability, no matter how exceptional.
The time required for the mind to retain knowledge.
The period needed for the body to adapt to new movements.

Yet Delram was different.
From spear to sword to blunt weapons to bow—he had absorbed them all in what felt like moments.
Not in a year. Not in a month. Not even in a week.
A single day.

In truth, even that was an exaggeration.
Not quite a day, if he was being precise.
The instructor would demonstrate a technique once or twice, and Delram would observe it—and the next moment, he would execute it perfectly, or even surpass the instructor’s own form.

And that was just weapon mastery.
Strategy and Tactics were the same.
Teach him one principle, and he grasped ten.

Even the war game they had just concluded followed that pattern.
A makeshift war game laid out with pebbles on the ground.
The Senior Instructor himself had been utterly outmaneuvered and defeated.

“Weapon Master……”
“Yes?”

At the instructor’s murmur, Delram looked up.
But then he laughed awkwardly.
He realized they weren’t calling for him.

Clang, clang, clang—

The bell rang out across the grounds.
Time for the evening meal.
Today’s training had ended.

“Instructor, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“No. There’s nothing left to teach you.”
“Oh! That’s disappointing—I was enjoying this. So from tomorrow, should I train with the other recruits?”
“For now… yes, do that.”

But doubt gnawed at him. Was that really the right decision?
He kept forgetting, but this trainee was only thirteen years old.
Yet it seemed unlikely that any instructor here could beat him in a match.

Throw such a prodigy onto the battlefield just like that?
Wouldn’t that be a loss for the entire kingdom?

‘I need to consult with Obern.’

The Senior Instructor’s pace quickened, his mind suddenly urgent.
It was because of intelligence that had arrived recently.
The situation on the battlefield was not normal.

Training would likely be cut short.
When that happened, this Delram—this gem of a recruit—would be sent to the battlefield as a common soldier.
He would surely perish without ever shining.
That couldn’t be allowed.

But his hurried steps gradually slowed.
Soon the Senior Instructor stopped near the entrance and turned his head back.
There was one thing he had to ask, no matter what else.

“Trainee. Does the wind still call to you?”
“No, not anymore. But—”

Delram smiled knowingly and continued.

“I think I know now how to become the wind.”

* * *

The Commandant’s Office, painted in whitewash.
The Training Facility was harsh and austere, but the Commandant’s chambers were an exception.
As the saying goes, nobility’s virtue is extravagance.
Three men conferred in that elaborately appointed space.

“He’s mastered the Imperial Spear Technique perfectly? In just five days?”
“The time allotted was five days, sir. But the actual time it took him to master it was only one day.”
“…Instructor, are you feeling ill? No matter how elementary spearwork may seem, its depth is not so shallow that anyone can master it in a single day.”
“That’s precisely why I reported him as a prodigy.”

The Commandant remained unconvinced, while the Senior Instructor grew frustrated.
That was when Obern, the Knight, spoke up.

Intermediate Knights were not numerous.
Small territories might have three or four at most.
And many territories had none at all.

Yet Obern was precisely an Intermediate Knight.
An exceptional level of skill to be rotting away in such a remote posting.
Which was why the Training Commandant lent ear to his words.

“I believe it’s possible.”
“How so?”
“I heard that one of his ancestors was a Knight. The family techniques and Mana-based methods have likely been lost, but he would have learned the fundamentals of spear work at minimum. And as you know, the Imperial Spear Technique’s twelve forms are nothing but the crystallization of those fundamentals, yes?”
“Then you’re saying that if he learned spear work from another tradition that similarly emphasizes fundamentals, there would be considerable overlap, making rapid mastery possible?”
“Precisely.”
“That much I can accept.”

It was then the Senior Instructor interjected with a question.

“Is it possible he trained in swordplay and other weapons as well?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The trainee Delram mastered the spear, sword, blunt weapons, and bow all perfectly in a single day. And moreover, Strategy and Tactics as well.”
“…He’s merely mimicking them, surely?”
“No, sir. I hadn’t wanted to say this much, but… he seemed superior to me in every single discipline he was taught.”
“Such nonsense.”

Hearing this, both the Training Commandant’s and Obern’s faces hardened.
At first, he’d thought the Senior Instructor was exaggerating considerably.
That despite his measured demeanor, he tended toward hyperbole.

But if that were truly the case, the matter took on a different complexion entirely.
Superior to him? In every field?
What soldier would diminish his own ability before his superiors?
Least of all to elevate some mere thirteen-year-old boy?

It meant genuine, heartfelt admiration.
Obern collected his thoughts.

“Then the answer is simple.”
“You mean to test him?”
“Indeed. Have him spar against others. If he’s truly as talented as the Instructor claims, a mere difference in age should be trivial.”
“But I’m not certain such measures are necessary. If things go wrong, we may end up looking foolish ourselves.”
“What if I were to conduct the test under my own authority?”
“Well, if you put it that way…”

For a nobleman, there was no risk in such an arrangement.
And so, rather abruptly, the sparring match was settled.

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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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