"Since I’ve finished early, can I head off to the mess?" Nero asked as he reported to Sergeant Renald an entire ten minutes before their dedicated hour for morning drill was complete. Nero was tired, and his body was filled with the familiar ache and soreness of training.
To him, this ache no longer even registered as pain. Instead, he felt greatly satisfied whenever he felt it, for it was the most direct confirmation that he had pushed himself and that his body was growing.
Of course, training was one part of growing stronger, and the second part was sufficient and plentiful nutrition. It was for that reason that Nero never missed a meal if he could help it, and did his best to eat everything he was given. He was most definitely not because he was a glutton - no, this was training!
Renald looked at Nero’s smiling expression, his body absent of any sweat, and not a single sign of fatigue on him, and could not help but feel dissatisfied. Though the cadets did not know it, one of the most important purposes of the drills was to push the cadets to their limits, and force them to get used to the feeling of pushing through even when they hit it.
Helping the cadets get in shape and grow stronger was certainly an important aspect of the drill, but developing that mindset of pushing through after reaching one’s perceived limits was even more important! If Nero didn’t feel pushed, then he wasn’t doing his job correctly!
"Of course you can," answered Renald, suddenly putting on a smile. "I like your motivated attitude. Since you finished early, from now on I’ll treat your drill time as fifty minutes instead of sixty. Be sure to finish all your drills within the allotted time, or you might end up getting punished."
It sounded like some friendly advice, but it would be clear to Nero that it wasn’t. Yet instead of frowning, Nero’s smile widened. The worst part was, it even looked genuine!
"Yes sir!" Nero said as he saluted, and then began taking off his weighted suit.
Renald looked away from Nero to the rest of the battalion. Some of them hadn’t even finished the push ups yet. Fifteen minutes into their breakfast time, another professor would come on over and convince Renald to allow the battalion to complete their drills during their afternoon session so that they could go and eat something. Without food, they would not be able to sustain themselves.
This way, Renald would develop a reputation as the tough sergeant, while another professor would become their savior. Of course, Renald would not give in every time, lest they develop a bad habit of slacking off, believing they can get away with it. This would be the best way to train these new cadets without damaging their bodies through overexertion.
The cadets weekly medical examinations results would be provided to Renald so that he was constantly up to date on exactly how much he needed to push each cadet. After all, although the number of pushups and laps were the same, everyone got different weights.
He was carefully and meticulously creating a privatised workout plan for each cadet to get the most out of them. That was also why he would not just rely on Nero’s expression to determine how much weight to give him.
The Kolar Military Academy was responsible for creating the foundation of the entire army, and the leaders of tomorrow. This was a task they took incredibly seriously, such that there was no one who could deny their efforts, or their results.
The art of training officers is something they had carefully studied and improved over the centuries, such that there was no one in the world who could compete with them. Even so, they never slacked, always looking for more ways in which they could improve.
For those that worked at KMA, it was more than their job - it was their purpose, their culture, their most ardent pursuit. So the very thought that Nero wasn’t getting the most out of his drills, wasting precious days lit a fire inside Renald’s heart.
"Let’s see if you can still smile like that tomorrow," Renald murmured, his voice heavy with determination.
Meanwhile, unaware of how he had provoked Renald, Nero ran to the mess in a good mood. A nice workout was a great way to start the day, especially since his body’s recovery was pretty quick. With a nice meal and some rest, he’d be back in top shape soon enough.
Nero entered the mess in a good mood and lined up in front of the counter. The meals were standard for all, and he could get them as many times as he wanted so long as he finished the previous serving.
The food, while plentiful, was certainly not extravagant. He was having military rations, so that involved a high-calorie, protein cake, aetherically processed carrot sticks, a nutrition drink and two dried dates. Nero could not help but raise an eyebrow, as he’d never had a date before. As far as he knew, dates were not a local fruit, so this was either likely imported, or were from a recently set up orchard. Yet the cool, wet climate of Kolar did not suit date palms as far as he knew.
Nero shrugged and grabbed a seat, rushing to eat. At first no one noticed him, but many seniors had seen Nero’s performance on the first day, and remembered him, so pretty soon many recognised him.
Instead of being shocked, they actually found it quite reasonable that he was eating instead of completing his drills. Of course, such a thing would not happen forever - of that they were sure.
But no one went over to chat with him, nor did Nero attempt to use this time to familiarise himself with his seniors. He was well aware that these thirty minutes of breakfast were a crucial period to recover physically and mentally before their morning classes - at least for him. The seniors might have a different schedule.
To his immense surprise, before breakfast was over, the rest of his battalion group came rushing into the mess, though their condition was obvious from the fact that they were limping. Even so, they did not focus on that. Instead, they bore the pain as they rushed to get their meals! They had only a few minutes to eat before it would be time to head to their classes.
Speaking of which, Nero still didn’t know what classes he would be taking, or where they would be. It seems everyone would find out together.
At six twenty nine sharp, Nero and all the other new cadets were lined up in the designated spot, ready to be led. An unfamiliar professor was already there waiting for them, though he waited till six thirty before taking them. There was a distinct look of disappointment on his face when he saw that everyone was on time - something all the cadets noticed.
Chills went down their spines as they realised that the professor had been looking for an excuse to give them more training. They hadn’t even finished their drills from early in the morning, and the remaining ones would be added to their drills later in the day! If even more were added...
Nero focused on memorising the layout of the academy, not on the dread and distraught practically radiating from his battalion as they limped behind him.
While it seemed that each battalion had their own basic facilities, all classes would be held in the central part of the academy which looked more like a proper town rather than a nature reserve.
Speaking of which, Nero had still not sensed a single hint of cursed energy despite all the greenery around them, which was confusing. Was it because of the ever present Monarch’s Dominion? He didn’t know.
There were several large buildings dedicated to classes, but it seemed that all new cadets would be attending the same classes, altogether. The cadets from the other battalions looked even worse off than those from Enlil, to the point where Nero could not imagine how they would pay attention in class.
But that was not his concern. He, instead, focused on the schedule he was given. They had a little over five hours of classes, and they were divided into five subjects: aetheric studies, military geography, military & general sciences, world affairs, and general military studies.
Each semester, the classes would change, and they were required to pass all classes to continue the progression in the academy. If they failed one subject, they would be forced to repeat the entire semester. If they failed two subjects simultaneously, or even just one failure in two consecutive semesters, they would be expelled from the academy.
Well, at least they were allowed to fail one subject once, so no pressure, right?
Nero could not understand how the cadets were expected to learn anything in their physically exhausted state, but that question was quickly answered as soon as their first class began.