Chapter 7: New Recruit Training 2

Chapter 7: New Recruit Training 2

TL: Etude

Makarov, with a cross tied to his back, stood in agony, internally complaining countless times, Whats the use of this training against pirates? What on earth is this for!

He wanted to turn his head to see the state of the person next to him, but suppressed the thought immediately. Several unfortunate souls had already been severely reprimanded by Major Claude for making small movements while standing at attention, and were even denied their meals. Makarov certainly didnt want to go hungry.

The new lord really was an oddity. Makarov continued his internal rant, perplexed by the strange exercises like standing at attention and marching. Even the officers of knightly origin were forced into such training.

Oh, and the marching Makarov felt utterly embarrassed just thinking about it. The bizarre posture still made him blush. He was grateful that they werent training in the town, or else the locals would have had a good laugh.

He guessed the young lord suffered from a severe case of OCD. His demands for uniformity and order seemed to have reached a perverted level. It was one thing to require unison and coordination in marching and running, but insisting on blankets being folded into perfect squares was over the top.

If the young lord hadnt demonstrated how to fold them himself and personally guided those who did it wrong, Makarov would have suspected this was all a cruel joke.

The only sane part of the training was the daily morning or afternoon drills, personally instructed by Major Claude. Makarov felt this was the only part beneficial for surviving and fighting in battles. He listened intently and practiced with all his might.

Despite his complaints, Makarov held a great deal of respect, even gratitude, towards the young lord. Not just because they had eaten meat twice this week, but for a more significant reason the lord was teaching them to read!

For most commoners, literacy was a lifelong unattainable skill due to lack of opportunity and resources. Of course, there were literate commoners, like merchants, minstrels, or noble servants, but they were rare compared to the vast majority of the populace.

In some remote areas, literacy was as mythical as magic, believed to be accessible only to nobles and divine servants. Many commoners only recognized their names, and a larger number couldnt even do that.

Even in human realms, Makarov heard that many beastman tribes in the great plains used knots on ropes to record events.

He vividly recalled the moment the young lord announced the literacy class, using evening time to teach everyone to read. The incredulous expressions of the soldiers and Major Claudes shocked face, wide enough to fit a goose egg, was unforgettable.

However, many soldiers thought being a soldier and eating the lords grain didnt require literacy. They were fools content with their ignorance, in Makarovs view. He didnt want to live his life in such a dazed state.

Suddenly, a whistle sounded, followed by Major Claudes loud command: All troops, assemble!!!

Previously, just assembling them swiftly was unimaginable. Now, the troop almost had the air of a regular army.

No, even the kingdoms regular army couldnt match this level of uniformity. Only the royal guard, unseen by Claude, might compare. He began to understand why the count spent so much time on what seemed like meaningless training.

The only deficiency now, Claude thought, is that nearly half of them have never seen blood.

Paul instructed Claude to continue with the days planned training, then entered a tent guarded by the inner guard with the servant who brought the uniforms.

Count, everything you requested is here. This is the first batch; steward Philip is still gathering the rest, which will take some time.

Excellent, these will suffice for now, but hurry with the rest.

The tent was filled with boxes and a sulfuric smell. Satisfied, Paul asked, And the people I requested?

They are waiting in the next tent, my lord.

Are they reliable?

Rest assured, they are as loyal to your family as I am, personally vetted by steward Philip.

Good, Ron. Youll continue to handle supplies here. I wont forget your service. Remember, not a word of this to anyone, understood? Anyone.

I understand. I swear to the Lord of Light to keep silent, or may I be cast into hell for even a single slip, Ron vowed.

Good, you may go back. Remember my words.

If youre enjoying the story, please leave a rating and review!

For announcements or to report mistakes, please join my Discord: https://discord.gg/2sZy2YcYSB