Isaac's words were vague but his unspoken intentions were loud and clear to Balud.
He was supposed to be perfect, but his position was shaken by the failure of the Witch Asylum.
There were no excuses, for in the end, he had failed, and Osian, whom he had judged to have failed, had been spared by the Judge.
And with the witch alive and well.
"I have no comment."
Isaac laughed in a low voice as Balud complied.
His voice, once charismatic and reassuring, now sounded raspy with phlegm from too many cigars.
The Isaac Balud had seen in his youth was a brilliant warrior, businessman, and charismatic boss.
Now he was an old man, a couch potato.
But Balud didn't point it out, and the thought of it even irritated him.Isaac was the boss of the North Blinders, after all.
He was the boss of North Blinders, and he had to be obeyed, even if he had risen to the lofty position of director.
"Dear Balud, I believe there is a way out of this situation."
Monkeys fall from trees, too.
Of course, the tree is full of fire and spears, so there's no room for error.
As long as you didn't fall all the way to the bottom, you could cover up a small mistake with a bigger one.
“I’ve been talking to the Archaeological League recently.”
"Archaeology?"
Isaac frowned at the archaic word.
He had gained so much weight that he almost looked grotesque.
"Something to do with ancient artifacts."
"Oh, well, that's a different story."
Isaac pulled out a cigar, cut off the end, and popped it into his mouth.
Balud casually pulled an angled oil lighter from his arm and lit Isaac's cigarette.
After a few huffs and puffs of smoke, Isaac dangled the cigar between his fingers.
"Okay. What do we know about artifacts?"
"We're not sure yet, but rumor has it that the Archaeological League has recently discovered underground ruins."
"Rumors are rumors, aren't they?"
"They've been doped up, so the news trickles down to us, and from what we've been able to piece together lately, it doesn't appear to be on a scale to be dismissed as mere rumor."
A grin formed on Isaac's face.
"Kkhkh. Yeah, yeah. Our director Balud is very well spoken, so don't feel too bad. You're the one I have the most faith in."
"......Yes. Thank you."
Balud bowed his head grimly.
He wondered if it was his own lapse in loyalty that made him feel so disgusted with the once dashing man.
"I'll have good news for you soon."
"Yes, yes. I'm afraid I've kept you busy for nothing. You should probably get going."
"Okay."
Balud bowed and left the boss's chambers.
The subordinate waiting outside followed.
"Mr. Director, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, and I'm sure you're not going to let anything get in the way of our work, right?"
"Yes, I'm making sure of that."
"We failed last time, so this one has to be a success, if only to reestablish our shaky position."
As he said that, Balud pulled a pack of cigarettes from his bosom.
It was a plain cigar, not unlike the one Isaac had lit.
"Are you smoking again?"
The subordinate asked, surprised.
He remembered that he had stopped smoking after he realized that it was not good to smell like a cigarette when dealing with customers.
Balud held a lighter to his mouth and lit a cigarette.
"I just want to smoke today."
The smoke from his mouth drifted away in a haze.
Balud felt as if it was his future.
But still, he must endure.
Turning to the window, Balud's retina flashed with the image of Isela.
*
Osian stood in a clearing, a favorite spot for Osian to swing his sword from time to time.
Seven men stood before him.
Their faces were half expectant, half nervous.
"I'm telling you, I don't know how to be gentle. To obtain this power, you must reach the limits of your body and surpass them many times over. It's not too late, so if anyone wants to quit, they can go home."
Of course, none of them said yes.
They had their own desires.
They'd been through too much to come this far and give up.
"Okay, I'll take that as a consensus. Since we're here, let's get started."
David's face lit up at the words.
Now that they were finally going to be taught by Osian, they could already see their future in the sunlight.
Osian brought a basket and placed it in front of the aspiring knights.
"What is this?"
"Sandbags. Put them on your arms and legs."
They were puzzled, but they didn't object.
Jonathan was a big, strong man, so he attached heavier bags to each of them.
Then, turning to the men, Osian said.
"Run."
"Uh, huh?"
"Yes? What?"
"Run."
Osian pointed his finger at the open space.
"Run, until I say enough. Do it."
The aspiring knights glanced at each other.
This was not at all what they thought they were being taught.
As they hesitated, a new person appeared and blew a door whistle into their mouths.
-Beep!
"Can't you hear me now, run!"
It was Lorraine, her long, ivory hair bouncing, wearing sunglasses.
She wore a military cap of unknown provenance and scowled at the wannabe knights.
“Does what I say sound like nonsense? If you don’t run, should I make you run?”
As if she'd seen this coming, Lorraine pulled out a gun she'd prepared in advance and pointed it at the aspiring knights.
The aspirants' expressions were stunned. A gun? Out of nowhere?
Lorraine pulled the trigger just as they were thinking, "She's really going to shoot.”
A special rubber bullet shot out, hitting the aspiring knights.
"Ack! Ack!"
"Ouch!"
Even though it was a rubber bullet, it still hurt. It could break bones and bruise muscles with a bluish tinge.
It was a weapon that could kill you if you got hit wrong and although wasn't really non-lethal, it was low-lethal.
"Run. Run, or I'll hit you until you run."
With Lorraine's back to them, the wannabe knights began to run.
"Okay, we've come this far, let's give it a try."
"Let's show them that we still have the basic fitness!"
Lorraine looked back at Osian and giggled as they started running.
The look on her face was almost as if she was asking, "What do you think?”
"Looks like you're going to enjoy yourself."
"Well, why not. You can't do something like this if you don't try to enjoy it. If you're going to do it, you should enjoy it. Isn't that right?"
She wasn't exactly wrong.
Except that in Lorraine's case, she had a dark secret: she relieved her stress by tormenting those wannabe knights.
"And isn't that too much to ask? I'm helping you because I think you need help. Besides that, who do you think wrote the training curriculum?"
Surprisingly, it was Lorraine, not Osian, who had written the curriculum for the training.
When she said she'd just chime in because she thought it would be fun, she meant it in this way.
The huffing and puffing wannabe knights slowed their pace, thinking it must be over.
Instead, it was Lorraine's rubber bullets that rained down on them.
Lorraine's keen eye could tell the difference between those who ran and those who didn't.
"Oops. I see your feet. I see your feet. Don't you run faster? Do you want me to make you run forever? Huh?"
She was a tiger trainer.
Even those who were confident in their basic physical strength from their work as a fixer were gasping for breath and sweating like rain as they kept running without stopping.
It wasn't just running, they were running with a heavy bag, which made it even harder.
Still, Lorraine didn't tell them to stop.
"What are you guys doing, can't you walk straight?! Look at you, even people older than you are still running!"
Lorraine pointed to David, who was running in silence.
David was the oldest person in the group, but he kept going. In fact, he was running quite well, as if age were just a number.
As expected of a puppeteer and commander, he'd been working on his basic fitness.
Jonathan was a mutant, so of course he was running well.
It was over an hour later when the run ended.
When the sweaty men collapsed to the ground, it was time for strength training.
Having pushed their hearts to the limit, they now had to squeeze their muscles to the max.
Groans of pain echoed through the clearing as they lifted and lowered heavy objects.
"Let's take a break, it's time to eat!"
Lorraine whistled, and out of nowhere, Ena dragged a large pot onto a cart.
"Feeding time!"
Ena poured the seven aspiring knights a pot of porridge.
It was a mixture of grains, meat, and beans, ground and steeped in water.
It was a dish designed for the sole purpose of providing the body with the nutrients it needed.
The good news is that, thanks to Ena's culinary skills, it didn't taste completely awful.
The people gathered in the clearing all buried their faces in their bowls.
An empty stomach was their best seasoning. Even the not-so-good porridge could be drunk like water.
"What are you guys doing after you've eaten, we need to get moving!"
Osian glanced at Lorraine, who was frying the wannabe knights.
Lorraine's gaze was filled with surprise.
‘You're more skillful than I thought.’
Although she might seem to be recklessly pushing the aspirant knights, her training methods were very methodical.
She was quick to recognize each individual's physical limitations and characteristics and redistribute the intensity of the training accordingly.
When Lorraine returned to her seat, Osian asked.
"Where the hell did you learn this?"
"What?"
"It looks like a ridiculous process, but it's all about physical training. And it's very detailed, right down to figuring out your opponent's level and matching your intensity accordingly."
"Hmph. You're finally seeing me for what I am, see? I can do this because I'm almost as strong as you."
Lorraine's nose perked up at Osian's praise.
Seeing Lorraine's giggles and weak smile made him want to take back his compliment.
But Osian suppressed the feeling and asked a question that had been on his mind.
"You seem familiar with this process. Have you done anything like this before, like in the military?"
"......."
Lorraine's expression changed, if only for a moment.
The proud smile that had been on her face cracked.
The change was fleeting, of course, and when she was back to her normal self, she put her index finger to her lips and said playfully,
"It's a secret. Everyone should have a secret, it's more charming that way."
"Maybe so. I'm asking the wrong thing."
Osian shrugged and took a step back.
It had only been a moment, but he'd intuited from Lorraine's reaction that her past wasn't all that great.
‘Ronan would know.’
It would be rude to ask Ronan about someone else's past and Ronan wouldn't talk about it.
‘A hidden past.’
He understood. Just look at Diolan, his fellow Fixer, he's hiding something.
Osian was sure that every fixer has something to hide, whether it's their past or their skills.
"What, are you pissed I didn't tell you?"
"Of course not."
"Come on, you have a history of hiding things, too."
"I'm not hiding anything."
Osian felt it was important to point out.
"I am a knight. The number of demons, witches, and warlocks who have fallen under my blade is staggering, and demons, evil spirits, and even gods have died at my hands."
Osian spoke frankly of what he had accomplished.
Ena, who was clearing the plates beside him, listened, ears perked.
"There is nothing false about this, and I can swear to it on my honor."
"Wow."
Osian said, staring at Lorraine and Ena, his eyes serious, as if they didn't believe him.
Lorraine's mouth dropped open in admiration at the solemnity of his demeanor, the deep conviction in his eyes and the unwavering tone of his voice.
"Yes, yes. You have secrets you can't tell me, too, I understand."
"......."