( Seven Days Later )
In front of the massive castle, around eighty recruits stood in organized rows. They placed their right hands over their chests while holding their weapons or rectangular wooden shields in their left hands. Heads held high, they looked upward with pride.
These were the same scrawny, filthy young men and women Arthur had conscripted seven days ago, but now they appeared entirely different—transformed a full one hundred and eighty degrees. Their previously pale, grimy bodies had become clean and remarkably healthy. Their cheeks were flushed red, proof of a nutritious diet, their muscles slightly swollen, and their stances more stable.
Over the course of those seven days, they had followed a strict daily regimen.
At precisely four in the morning, they were forced to wake up—anyone who failed to rise on time was kicked out of bed. Afterward, they bathed in cold water using soap, washed their hair with shampoo, and brushed their teeth with toothpaste. Then they got dressed, and at the first light of dawn, they would run seven miles around the city—passing through the main alleys and farmlands under the watchful gaze of the public. It had been embarrassing at first, but after a few repetitions, they grew used to it.
Upon completing their run, they devoured a hearty breakfast prepared by the castle's finest cooks under Arthur's strict instructions. They then had one hour of rest before resuming training, which consisted of both group and individual physical drills, followed by weapons training and one-on-one sparring matches.
At noon, they were served a lunch rich in energy made from magic beast meat. Afterward came literacy lessons, as most of them were illiterate.
Then they were taught theoretical combat, military tactics, and battlefield formations to enhance their fighting effectiveness. This was followed by practical exercises. Before day's end, they performed chores such as cleaning the baths and hauling water. Then came another three-mile run, another bath, dinner, and finally, one hour of personal time before bedtime.
The routine wasn't always the same. Occasionally, they were sent to the forest outskirts to gather herbs, which they mixed with water to create nourishing, body-enhancing elixirs. Sometimes they engaged in team-building activities like wrestling or chasing chickens—crude entertainment, given the lack of actual games in such a backward society.
As for the nine recruits with average talents, they were personally supervised by Chadwick under a far stricter regime. They consumed the Brutal Enhancement Elixir daily and were taught horseback riding and leadership techniques, grooming them to become elite soldiers. Arthur even set aside dedicated time for both Varek and Selene to teach them how to gather mana. Although it took burying Varek for three nights straight before he could finally sense the mana around him, it was a vivid reminder to Arthur of the difference between average and low potential.
Atop the castle wall, Arthur stood proudly, gazing sharply at the rows of recruits dressed in uniform leather armor. Though only seven days had passed, to him it felt like a blade edging closer to his throat. Only two weeks remained until the return of the original Arvan, and both Edgar and his son's suspicions had grown. Arthur estimated that his secret would be uncovered in just a few more days.
'The system I envisioned is truly effective. It's a shame I don't have more time. If I had just two months, I could forge them into a force equal to the Baronet's army.'
Silently, he turned and looked at Chadwick.
'I forced him to follow the same regimen alongside the recruits. I hope he won't disappoint me.'
After a brief moment of silence, he told Chadwick, "Prepare to depart."
"Yes, my lord," Chadwick responded, placing his hand on his chest before turning to shout, "Move out!"
In truth, there wasn't a formal salute among the soldiers, so Arthur had them place their hands over their chests, something he had seen in an anime once. He reserved this salute exclusively for his followers—the new recruits and those supervising them, like Chadwick.
'The time has come to obtain that magical artifact.'
Arthur descended from the castle wall, mounted his horse, and headed into the forest with the recruits. During a scouting round in the forest three days ago, he had located the exact place where the magical artifacts would be.
He hadn't brought Duncan and the others because they would only hinder the operation. So instead, he turned this into a training expedition and brought only the trustworthy—Chadwick and the three soldiers under his command, as well as Octavia and Selene, both of whom had begun to gather mana. Though they still couldn't cast spells, Arthur felt joy watching his followers progress. Lastly, he brought Faelor, whose healing magic was crucial in case of injuries.
Their mostly-on-foot convoy moved slowly toward the forest. As they passed through the filthy town, Arthur noted that the townsfolk cleared the way and watched silently. The eyes of children and young adults gleamed with envy and admiration.
Arthur smiled in satisfaction.
'Good. Everyone's paying attention to the recruits now.'
He never did anything without purpose. He'd chosen the youth because of their ambition and unbroken spirit, unlike adults worn down by life. He had instilled in them a love for cleanliness and made them run in front of the public multiple times a day—turning them into symbols of transformation and inspiration.
As he pondered his next steps, a young man in his twenties rode up beside him, struck his chest firmly, and said, "Greetings, my lord. This soldier requests permission to lead the recruits."
[Name: Otieno Coldharrow]
[Race: Human]
[Class: Boundless Knight]
[Rank: E]
[Skills: Swordsmanship (E), Solid Body (E), Horsemanship (E), Agility (E)]
This young man was Otieno—the same scrawny, filthy teen with high potential that Arthur had recruited. But now, he was transformed. His body had grown taller and more muscular, his skin healthy and radiant—all thanks to his high potential. He had reached Rank E in just four days, shocking Arthur despite having received abundant resources and personal guidance. As a result, Arthur decided to make him a direct subordinate, hoping to nurture his loyalty. The strategy had worked—within two days, Otieno began to show deep respect.
"Very well. But you'll be held accountable for every mistake."
"Thank you, my lord. I will not disappoint you."
Otieno quickly led his horse to the front of the marching line and assumed command. The other recruits accepted it instinctively—they had been trained to do so and understood that the nine trained by Chadwick were their future leaders.
Chadwick followed Arthur on horseback, watching everything with a mysterious gleam in his eyes. He felt a quiet pride in training these young men and women, knowing deep down that they would become an invincible elite within the entire province.
But more than pride, he felt anticipation. Ever since Arthur had begun giving him that strange elixir daily, he noticed himself edging closer to Rank C. He had been stuck at Rank D for years, despite having average potential—mainly because he never trained seriously or prioritized advancement. After all, they were in a backwater barony with a meager army of 150 soldiers, all at Rank E except for eleven at Rank D. Not a single person had ever reached Rank C.
[Knight Chadwick respects you.]
'That's solid progress.' Arthur smiled in satisfaction, then turned a serious gaze toward the forest ahead. He drew in a deep breath and mentally prepared for what was to come.