"Instructor Kuno! W-Will you really teach us real skills? Skills that let us take down monsters?!"

  A male student shot to his feet, his voice trembling with excitement.

  "One more order—from now on, you address me as Instructor!"

  "Yes, Instructor!"

  "Hmph, that’s better."

  Kuno nodded approvingly at the boy, then spoke up, his tone firm. "To answer your question—as your instructor, I don’t waste time with empty promises. If this Combat Training Course wasn’t about teaching you practical skills, there’d be no point in having it at all."

  Kuno’s definitive reply sent the students into even greater fits of excitement.

  But just then, a timid voice piped up from the back of the room.

  "Instructor Kuno... Does this mean we’ll all have to go to the front lines to fight the Demon Lord’s army someday?"

  The words hung in the air—and the classroom plunged into a deathly silence. Terror etched itself onto nearly every young face.

  After all, no matter how glorious it sounded to slay monsters, it paled in comparison to the bone-deep fear the Demon Lord’s army inspired. This was a force that could lay waste to the entire world.

  "......"

  Kuno’s expression turned somber. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

  "To be honest? Even if you wanted to fight on the front lines, most of you wouldn’t qualify. The reason I’m teaching you all this? It’s so that when the day comes—and the people who are currently protecting you can’t anymore—you’ll have the strength to defend yourselves."

  Kuno’s words eased the students’ panic a little—but a new, gnawing sense of frustration settled in instead. It was a conflicting feeling. They feared the Demon Lord’s army more than anything... yet the thought of being deemed unworthy to stand against it stung deeply.

  "Instructor Kuno!"

  A boy stood up abruptly, his voice ringing with unshakable resolve.

  "I swear—I will become a member of the Demon Lord Suppression Coalition someday!"

  Every eye in the room snapped to the boy who’d made the bold declaration. Deep down, Kuno was thrilled. There it was—this kid had real potential. His eye for talent hadn’t gone completely rusty after all.

  "Outstanding! What’s your name, boy?!"

  "Reporting, Instructor! My name is Ander!"

  "Ander, huh? I’ll remember that name. Take your seat. I hope one day, I’ll have the honor of fighting alongside you on the front lines."

  "Yes, Instructor!"

  Ander sat back down, his chest swelling with pride. All eyes were on him now—gazes filled with envy, admiration... and even a hint of shame.

  Regardless of their mixed feelings about the new course, or the looming threat of the Demon Lord’s army, the Preparatory Academy’s Combat Training Program kicked off in full swing.

  ......

  ......

  "Whistle—!!!"

  "Whistle—!!!"

  Shrill blasts of a whistle cut through the air above the training field.

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  "Move it, back of the pack! Pick up the pace! What are those legs for—decorations?!"

  "......Three laps left! Double time!"

  "......The last three to cross the finish line run three more laps as punishment!"

  "Noooo—!!!"

  "Still got the energy to whine? Make that five extra laps!"

  "......"

  "Whistle—!"

  As the final whistle blew, dozens of boys and girls collapsed onto the ground in a heap, gasping for air like fish out of water.

  The man responsible for their sorry state—Kuno—stood nearby, a blade of grass tucked between his teeth, hands clasped behind his back. He surveyed them with a critical eye, then barked out a scathing remark.

  "Look at you lot! Pathetic! You’re slower than a slime crawling through molasses! You wanna end up as fertilizer for those blobs?!"

  "But Instructor—fifteen kilograms is way too heavy!"

  Someone piped up with a protest.

  "Heavy?"

  Kuno’s eyes narrowed into slits.

  "Pah—!"

  He spat the chewed-up grass blade onto the dirt.

  "Who said that?! Step forward!"

  A male student shuffled reluctantly out of the ranks.

  "Reporting, Instructor... It was me, sir."

  Kuno stalked over to him, stopping so close their chests were nearly touching. He loomed over the boy, his voice a low, menacing growl.

  "Fifteen kilograms... Is that really too heavy for you?"

  "......"

  The oppressive aura radiating from the instructor made the boy break out in a cold sweat. He didn’t dare utter a single word of defiance.

  "Fifteen kilograms!"

  Kuno stepped back, pacing slowly in front of the assembled students. He jabbed a finger at the crowd, his face twisted in a look of exasperated disappointment.

  "You’re complaining about fifteen kilograms? What’re you gonna do when you have to lug around a sword, a wand, and a full suit of armor? Crawl into a hole and die?!"

  "......"

  The teenagers fell silent, none of them daring to speak up—not with the poor boy still standing in the hot seat.

  Kuno was satisfied with their obedience. His gaze swept over the crowd...

  And then came to a halt on one particular figure. His momentary satisfaction curdled into disbelief, like hitting a brick wall head-on.

  ......This kid. She just ran ten laps with fifteen kilos of weight... and she’s not even panting?

  The student in question was Hulim Heyerar. Unlike the others, who were soaked in sweat and gasping for breath, she looked completely unfazed—not a single bead of sweat on her forehead, her breathing steady as a rock.

  Fortunately for her, the rest of the class was too busy collapsing from exhaustion to notice her superhuman performance.

  "......Ahem. Ander!"

  "Yes, Instructor?!"

  Ander jumped to attention at the sound of his name, stepping forward smartly.

  The other students parted to let him through—this was a common sight ever since the grueling physical training sessions had begun.

  Having trained with his parents from a young age, Ander was far more physically fit than his peers. Though his breath was slightly ragged and his forehead glistened with sweat, he was in far better shape than the rest of the class.

  "Grab the twenty-kilogram weighted gear. Run two more laps. Show these sorry excuses for recruits what ‘heavy’ really means!"

  "Yes, Instructor!"

  Without hesitation, Ander marched over to the pile of weights, slung an extra five kilos onto his gear, and took off at a steady jog.

  "Look at him! Same age as the rest of you! If he can do it, why can’t you?!"

  As Ander began his demonstration, Kuno launched into another one of his trademark tough-love pep talks.

  "You’re all lazy! You don’t wanna put in the work! What do you think you are—dragons? Just laze around eating and sleeping, and your strength grows on its own? You’re humans!"

  "......Every single day, take one small step forward. By the end of the year, those steps add up to a mile. But you’re all too lazy to even lift a finger—so you’re stuck right where you started!"

  "Instructor! I’ve finished the laps!"

  Ander returned just as Kuno was winding down his tirade.

  "Good work, boy."

  Kuno nodded, noting the boy’s labored breathing and the sweat dripping down his face. He clapped him on the shoulder, then turned to the class.

  "Well? Tell them, Ander! Was twenty kilograms that heavy?"

  Ander froze. He glanced nervously at his classmates, who were all staring at him intently. He hesitated for a moment before answering carefully.

  "Instructor... I think it depends on the person. For me, it wasn’t too bad—but for others—"

  "HEAR THAT, MAGGOTS?!" Kuno roared, cutting him off mid-sentence. "He said it wasn’t heavy!"

  Ander: "......"

  The students: "......"

  "Ander, you can return to the ranks."

  "Yes, sir......"

  "And you—get back in line!"

  The boy who’d protested earlier breathed a sigh of relief, scurrying back to his spot like a scolded puppy. He kept his head down, avoiding the stares of the other students.