Knight: from Apprentice to the Almighty

"You’re... Roland?"

In the training grounds of the Knight Academy.

Master Reggie, the instructor in charge of Combat Skills, slowly raised his eyes from the card in his hand to carefully scrutinize the young man before him.

"Yes, Master Reggie."

Sensing the peculiar look in the other man’s eyes, Roland couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled.

"You’ve... heard of me?"

"Of course."

Reggie said in a low voice as he handed the card back to him.

"At the start of this term, Mr. Colin recommended a total of fifty-six people to Mr. Nelson, but only you... received Dean Graham’s approval."

Fifty-six people?

Hearing that number, the corner of Roland’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

As far as he knew, while the Knight Academies of the River Domain didn’t have any status requirements, the entrance exams were made much more difficult as a result.

Only a few hundred people managed to pass the exams and enroll each year.

Fifty-six people...

That was a good portion of the normal number of admissions.

No wonder Dean Graham had looked so resentful and disdainful when he heard Roland was one of Colin’s recommendations.

’So this great merchant doesn’t recommend "talent" based on his eye for people, but purely on the principle of "quantity over quality"...’

"But..."

Reggie’s broad palm slapped down hard on Roland’s shoulder.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The dull thuds rang out, and the force transmitted through them made Roland’s heart skip a beat.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he truly sized up the man before him for the first time.

He was sturdily built, but his exposed muscles weren’t exaggeratedly bulky. He wasn’t particularly tall either, just average for a human.

His face was even more unremarkable.

Only a few conspicuous old scars on his face and shoulders added a touch of weathered experience to his plain features.

And yet, the strength this seemingly ordinary man had just casually displayed secretly astonished Roland.

Without activating any of his Traits, in terms of pure physical strength, Roland reckoned he was probably still a fraction weaker than the instructor.

’Just an instructor at the Knight Academy is already this extraordinary? His physical strength alone is even a bit greater than mine...’

At this realization, the tiny bit of pride Roland had felt in his own strength vanished without a trace.

Reggie, however, paid no mind to Roland’s slight frown, his voice as deep as rolling thunder.

"But even if you have Dean Graham’s approval, in my class, you’d better stay in line!"

"As for the Combat Skills you want to learn, you’ll follow my curriculum. And another thing..."

He stared into Roland’s eyes and said, word by word.

"Don’t be like those bastards from before who thought they could run wild in my territory just because they were cozy with Mr. Colin! Understand?"

"Understood!"

Facing the intangible pressure radiating from the man, Roland had no doubt that if he truly crossed the line, Reggie would throw a punch without a moment’s hesitation.

Although he might have the upper hand in terms of overall strength, Roland was here to learn skills, not to start pointless conflicts.

"Good!"

Seeing Roland’s compliant attitude, Reggie nodded in satisfaction and pointed toward the shade of a nearby tree.

"Go wait over there. We’ll begin the lesson once the other students have arrived."

"Understood, Master Reggie."

After briefly asking about the main points of the class, Roland walked slowly toward the shade.

Before long, the somewhat noisy sound of footsteps and whispers approached from the distance.

The students arrived at the training grounds one after another.

Humans were the most numerous among them, but there was also a mix of other distinct Races like Elves, Beastmen, and Dwarves.

The Half-Elf that Avril had mentioned was also among them.

But there was only one of them.

Looking at the small, frail figure, Roland couldn’t help but wonder about the content of the Knight Academy’s entrance exams.

’A Half-Elf with a physique so clearly inferior to the other Races could actually pass the exam?’

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

Just as Roland was speculating, three sharp, resounding claps suddenly cut through all the other noise.

"Everyone, quiet down!"

Reggie’s voice rolled like muffled thunder.

The training grounds fell instantly silent.

Many of the students looked at him with a hint of fear in their eyes.

"Now, for today’s first lesson..."

The unremarkable-looking, powerfully built man casually pulled an unsharpened Iron Sword from the weapon rack.

Sunlight glinted off the blade, reflecting a cold, hard sheen.

"The basic skills for using a Longsword!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Reggie keenly caught a few disappointed glances from the crowd.

He suddenly stabbed the Iron Sword into the ground!

THUD!

After the dull impact, his booming voice echoed.

"I know! Some of you might have learned a bit of Swordsmanship elsewhere! But here..."

His sharp gaze swept across the students.

"You’ll all start from the beginning!"

"Want to skip this class? Want to test out of it?"

Reggie’s voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable pressure.

"Same old rule! Take me down first! Otherwise..."

He was practically roaring.

"You will all practice diligently! Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes!"

The students answered in unison. Many of them visibly shivered, having clearly experienced Reggie’s methods before.

"Good! Next..."

Reggie nodded in satisfaction, then began to swing the Iron Sword in his hand, explaining the key movements in detail.

Roland didn’t just go through the motions; instead, he stood in the crowd and listened intently.

Although his [Short-Handled Mastery] meant he had already mastered everything Reggie was explaining, he observed the instructor’s profound-yet-simple teaching style and couldn’t help but compare it to Peyton and the Guards from Black Water Territory.

In comparison, Reggie’s teaching was not only methodical and easy to understand, but it also progressed logically from simple to complex concepts.

At least in terms of teaching ability, he was far superior to the anecdotal advice of those Mercenaries and old soldiers.

’If I’d had someone like him teaching me skills back then, my Power might have improved even faster. He’s a true instructor of a proper Knight Academy, after all...’

Just as Roland was lost in thought, Reggie stopped his demonstration.

"Alright! Same old rule. Now, pick your own opponents and spar in pairs of two! The winners will have their class performance counted toward their credit!"

The moment he finished speaking, the crowd scattered like a receding tide.

Amid the surging flow of people, Roland keenly noticed that everyone was deliberately avoiding one person.

As they passed by this person, many students averted their gazes, their fear palpable. They unconsciously quickened their pace as if fleeing a plague.

Noticing the oddity, Roland looked up.

There, standing all alone, was a Beastman.

However, he was completely different from the other Green Skin Beastmen.

His skin was an ominous blood-red, and on his savage face, protruding tusks glinted coldly from the corners of his mouth.

As Roland’s gaze fell upon him, this Red-skinned Orc slowly turned his head.

His eyes struck Roland as strange.

Beneath a calm and gentle surface roiled an unconcealable, bloodthirsty violence.

In just a moment, the once-crowded center of the field was empty, save for Roland, the lone Half-Elf, and the blood-red-skinned Beastman.

"M-Master Reggie..."

The Half-Elf nervously wrung his fingers, shot a tense glance at the terrifying red figure beside him, then quickly looked away and timidly pointed at Roland.

"C-Can I choose him as my opponent?"