Penelope Borja’s eyes snapped open.
“Wh-where am I…?”
This wasn’t the familiar training ground she was used to. Instead, she found herself in an unfamiliar classroom.
And she wasn’t alone. Other students, specifically those from Class 13, were seated around her.
“Why am I here…?”
Penelope was bewildered. She knew she had fainted, but she couldn’t recall what had happened before she lost consciousness. No matter how hard she tried to remember, all that came to mind was the excruciating pain that felt like her head was splitting open.
“Now that she’s awake, we can finally start the class.”
A voice, unfamiliar yet somehow recognizable, broke through her thoughts. Penelope looked up to see a man standing at the podium in front of the blackboard. The moment she saw his face, the memories came rushing back.
“Damian Haxen!”
She jumped to her feet, shouting.
“What is the meaning of this? Hitting someone on the head with a club—do you think you can get away with that…?”
Damian Haxen slammed the end of his club onto the floor.
The entire building shook with a thunderous sound, dust falling from the ceiling. The sheer force of it made Penelope swallow hard.
It suddenly hit her just how formidable the man before her was—a master class warrior.
“Quiet. I’m speaking.”
Penelope immediately sat back down, her defiance evaporating. Anyone who had witnessed what she just did would have reacted the same way.
“Allow me to introduce myself. As you might already know, my name is Damian Haxen. I’m a knight from the Kingdom of Apple.”
Imperial nobles often looked down on other kingdoms, considering them weak compared to the Empire. But not a single student dared to mock Damian Haxen. They had all experienced his “rehabilitation.”
“I’ve become a temporary swordsmanship instructor at the academy due to personal reasons. I won’t be here long—it’s a short-term contract.”
The faces of the students in Class 13 brightened at this news. Some even silently cheered, clenching their fists in triumph.
“However, I need some time to take care of my personal matters. The headmaster has set a condition: if Class 13 doesn’t achieve excellent results in the swordsmanship evaluation next week, I’ll be dismissed immediately.”
The students’ faces lit up even more. Perhaps they would be free of Damian Haxen sooner than expected.
But his next words quickly darkened their expressions.
“So, I need your cooperation. What I require from you is simple: train hard under my guidance for a week and achieve good results in the exam. Understood?”
The mention of training made the students’ faces twist with displeasure.
Class 13 had always lived by their own rules, so the idea of training was naturally met with resistance.
“Wait, if we mess up the exam, doesn’t that mean he’ll be kicked out in a week?”
“Exactly. Why should we go along with his training and take the exam?”
Two male students sitting next to Penelope whispered to each other. Penelope, overhearing them, couldn’t help but agree.
Why should they obediently follow Damian Haxen’s orders? If anything, refusing might get him expelled from the academy in a week…
“Some of you might think that if you refuse my training, you’ll be able to get rid of me.”
Penelope looked at Damian Haxen with a startled expression.
“Furthermore, you might not understand why you should follow my orders.”
A few students nodded. Damian immediately glared at them, and they quickly lowered their heads.
“The reason is simple: you are students, and I am your teacher.”
Penelope Borja felt a wave of disappointment. She had heard this line countless times before. It was the typical prelude to a lecture about training for their future or fulfilling a teacher’s duty…
“Students must obey their teacher’s commands.”
…but something felt off.
“Your opinions don’t matter. I will ensure you achieve excellent results in the exam, no matter what it takes.”
In that moment, Damian Haxen’s eyes blazed with intensity. He scanned the students with a fiery gaze, as if warning them that defiance would be met with dire consequences.
“So, follow my orders quietly.”
The students looked at Damian Haxen with reluctant expressions, as if questioning the fairness of it all.
Thud.
Damian Haxen struck the ground with his club again, causing the building to tremble.
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes, sir! Students must obey their teacher’s commands!”
“Give us any order! We’ll follow like loyal dogs!”
But the fear of Damian Haxen was already deeply ingrained in the students. Not a single one dared to voice any opposition.
“Um… sir?”
A male student sitting at the front raised his hand. It was Oliver Fortina, who had been with Damian all day.
“What happens if we don’t achieve excellent results in the exam?”
“You’re asking the obvious.”
Damian Haxen gripped the edge of the podium and applied a little pressure.
Crack.
The wooden corner crumbled with a chilling sound.
As Damian rubbed his fingers together, the finely crushed powder trickled down.
“I’ll make you beg for death. And remember, that’s not a metaphor.”
The students’ faces turned pale. Instinctively, they knew he wasn’t bluffing.
“I’ll give you ten minutes. Go to your dorms and change into your training gear.”
Ten minutes was barely enough time to reach the dorms.
But none of the students complained. They simply dashed out of the classroom at lightning speed.
Exactly ten minutes later, the students who had moved swiftly were gathered at the training ground, catching their breath.
But not everyone was present. The number of students had decreased slightly.
It wasn’t just the students who were missing. Damian Haxen was nowhere to be seen either.
“Where is he?”
“He calls us here and then doesn’t show up?”
As the students murmured among themselves, a series of horrifying screams echoed from outside the training ground. A group of six students was being dragged in by Damian Haxen, who was mercilessly beating them.
“S-sir! We were wrong!”
“We’ve committed a grave sin!”
Even after entering the training ground, Damian’s beating didn’t stop. He continued to thrash them with his club, a sight so brutal that it made the watching students shudder.
The strange thing was that despite the severity of the beating, the students’ bodies bore no visible injuries.
“These fools tried to skip training and run away.”
After a long while, Damian finally stopped and spoke.
“Trying to escape from a master class? Listen well. There’s no way you can escape from me. It’s in your best interest to train obediently.”
Damian Haxen addressed the students sprawled on the ground.
“I’ll count to three. Get up.”
At his chilling warning, the students scrambled to their feet and ran to join the others.
“Looks like everyone’s here. Let’s begin the training.”
Damian Haxen clapped his hands with the club.
“Let’s start with some running, shall we?”
As evening approached, more than twenty students were running along the walls of the training ground.
“Huff… huff… huff…”
“I’m… I’m dying…”
The students all looked like they were on the brink of collapse, their faces pale.
“What are you doing? Can’t you run faster? You there! If you’re practicing mana techniques, I told you to run twice as fast!”
Damian Haxen shouted at the students from the center of the training ground.
“Ugh… I can’t… run anymore…”
“I told you to run until you collapse.”
“Ah! Aah!”
Whenever a student uttered a weak complaint, Damian would swing his club.
Watching the students run, Damian thought to himself.
‘If I push them like this for a week, they’ll pass the stamina test.’
According to Damian’s prior research, the swordsmanship exam in the academy’s annual evaluation was scored based on three categories: stamina, imperial swordsmanship, and dueling.
Stamina and imperial swordsmanship each accounted for 25% of the score, while dueling made up a whopping 50%.
The reason for this division was the wide range of skill levels among the academy’s students.
Not all academy students aspired to be knights. There were scholars, mages, and more.
It was only natural for aspiring knights to score higher in the swordsmanship category than other students.
‘If you’re not confident in your skills, focus on stamina and imperial swordsmanship. Otherwise, concentrate on dueling.’
Of course, Damian had already decided to forgo the dueling category entirely.
Among the students in Class 13, there were a few who aspired to be knights.
Oliver Fortina, Penelope Borja, and a few others were trained in their family’s swordsmanship and mana techniques.
But aside from Penelope Borja, most of them had long neglected their training.
“There’s no way those slackers could beat the other students after just a week of training.”
While tracking down Class 13, Damian took the opportunity to observe the other students at the academy.
As expected of the empire’s nobility, their skills were exceptional. It was impossible for the idle Class 13 to defeat them.
“Fortunately, with enough effort, they can still score well in the other two subjects.”
Easier said than done. Damian was determined to push the students to their limits over the next week.
“You’re moving too slowly! Can’t you pick up the pace?”
At Damian’s sharp command, the students scrambled to move faster.