Returning to the back inner wall felt good, especially after spending two weeks outside it. The open woods had their own strange beauty, but nothing beat the comfort of stone, tents that didn’t flap in the wind, and the peace of knowing there was no chance of beasts slipping through the trees at night.
In just a few days, we would complete our third month of training. That meant new rankings would be posted. It also marked the halfway point of general training.
The first thing I did on break day was place a custom equipment order.
Using part of my signing bonus, six silver out of the ten I’d received, I requested ankle and wrist weights, along with a modified chainmail waist belt that could be fitted with iron bars for added weight. The design was simple: hook-mounted iron bars for the belt and thick iron bracers that covered half my forearms and lower legs.
It wouldn’t be something I wore every day, just on break days or whenever my body wasn’t too wrecked from drills. The goal was to improve my agility, especially while moving in armor. It wasn’t exactly a revolutionary plan, but it reminded me of something out of an anime, Guy-sensei training, I joked to myself.
Altogether, the setup weighed about twenty kilograms, roughly the same as my full combat gear.
The banking process had been easier than expected. As a member of the Royal Army, I’d been assigned an account at the Royal Bank of Avalon, where salaries would be deposited once we completed basic training. Until then, there was no monthly income. The signing bonus was all we had to work with, and I had just spent more than half of mine.
Hopefully, it would pay off.
The week passed without any issues. Training had become… familiar.
Not easier, never easy, but routine. The sharp edges of pain had dulled to a constant burn. The fear of messing up or falling behind still existed, but it had faded beneath repetition and survival.Then came break day. And with it, the updated recruit rankings.
I had moved up.
From Rank 140 to 130.
Not a giant leap, but enough to prove my efforts weren’t wasted.
My stats had improved too, though not as drastically as during the first two months, as expected, considering how stat growth slows once you break into double digits.
But what really surprised me was Lela.
She ranked 5th.
I had always suspected she was strong, her quiet confidence and precise, unflinching draw with the bow wasn’t something you could fake. We still saw each other in the library, occasionally discussing books. Nothing deep. But seeing her name so high on the list made me pause.
There were only about twenty female recruits in the entire class, and just five in the top hundred. It wasn’t surprising. Even in modern times, female soldiers were rare. Here, in Avalon, they were even rarer, though those who made it had a reputation.
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The best archers in the Kingdom were women.
There was even a top-tier knight order composed entirely of elite female archers, known across Avalon for their deadly precision. They served directly under the Queen of Avalon herself.
Still, most recruits underestimated women. Many assumed they were weaker, despite all evidence to the contrary. They didn’t see the quiet hours Lela spent in the library. They didn’t watch her drill alone on break days, refining her form rather than showing off.
As I glanced through the top twenty, I began to realize something else.
Some of them had clearly come in prepared.
During group exercises, there were always five or six recruits who moved with effortless rhythm, not because they were trying to impress anyone, but because they already knew what to do. Their stances, pacing, and footwork were second nature.: 105 / 105
HP Regen: 5/day
MP: N/A
Attributes:
- Constitution: 11.0
- Strength: 10.0
- Agility: 7.5
General Skills:
- Writing (19)
- Reading (19)
- Math (25)
- Running (19)
- Meditation (19)
- Marching (15)
(Previous Month’s Comparison):
- Constitution: 10.5 → 11.0
- Strength: 9.5 → 10.0
- Agility: 7.2 → 7.5
- Writing: 17 → 19
- Reading: 17 → 19
- Meditation: 17 → 19
- Marching: 13 → 15
After reviewing my stats, I made my way to the library.
I continued my study of theKingdom of Avalon’s geography, mapping terrain, trade routes, border forts, and troop movement corridors. My goal was to build a strong foundation in geography, politics, and military logistics before we reached the end of general training.
The old journals from the supply division were more useful than expected. They painted a clear picture of how army campaigns were run, how much food was required for a battalion, how long a caravan could last before resupply, how logistical officers balanced terrain, weather, and monster activity to keep forces mobile and alive.
I didn’t know what specialization training would include, it would begin after the six-month mark. But if I could understand how the army moved, how it thought, I might get placed in one of the specialized divisions… or maybe even unlock a good class.
After finishing my reading, I made my way to the blacksmithy, where I picked up the training weights from the apprentice. They were exactly what I expected: heavy, clunky, and crude.
The sun was already dipping toward the horizon by the time I returned to the training yard. A warm amber glow bathed the field, casting long shadows across the packed dirt. The air had cooled, tinged with the scent of sweat, steel, and distant wildflowers. The noise of the day had softened, no shouting sergeants, no stomping boots, just the gentle rustle of wind through the training dummies and the occasional creak of armor racks settling.
I strapped on the ankle weights and moved to the open corner of the field, where I began a series of slow agility drills, side steps, quick pivots, low hurdles over practice dummies, and short zigzag runs between training markers. The added mass threw off my balance immediately, and I nearly tripped on one of the first turns. The shift was worse than I expected, but that was fine.
This wasn’t about speed.
This was about habit.
About conditioning.
About control.
If my agility was lagging, I’d fix it, one painful movement at a time.
After finishing my second circuit, I paused to catch my breath. I looked around at the field, now painted in deep gold and violet under the fading sun, and for the first time in a long while, I let myself breathe in the moment.
Just three months ago, I had been a broken boy in rags.
Now, I was stronger. Sharper. More grounded.
And this was only a quarter of the training, only the beginning.
I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement deep in my chest.
What would the next three months bring?
The future was still uncertain, but for the first time, it didn’t scare me.