Regressor Of The Fallen Family [EN]: Chapter 87

The sharp cry of ‘Ha!’ echoed across the dusty training field. Hooves pounded the dry earth – thud thud thud – followed by the lighter, quicker tap tap tap of crossbow bolts hitting their targets.

He spurred his horse as best he could and raised his crossbow, but the bolts fired in quick succession flew just past their target, embedding themselves in the ground.

“Ah…” A sigh of regret escaped from Northern, a rookie with only a year of soldier training.

However, his situation was still better than that of his peers around him.

Crossbow bolts stuck out at crazy angles from the wooden targets – high, low, wide – a scattered mess that was almost comical, if it wasn’t so humiliating.

Most of them, it seemed, were still too sore from bouncing on the saddle to even properly release the reins.

In truth, that was normal. To accurately strike a target while riding a horse and firing a bow, even if it was a crossbow and not a longbow, was a difficult feat with only a year of training.

But Northern’s eyes were drawn not to his ‘normal’ peers, but to the few who effortlessly accomplished this unbelievable task.

“Run!”

“Fire!”

Not only were they hitting targets with direct shots, but even arrows fired backwards while galloping with loose reins struck their mark nine times out of ten.

‘Knight trainees.’

Those who had their talents recognized were exempt from guard duty, focusing solely on training.

But he knew that most of their training consisted of physical conditioning, swordsmanship, and spear techniques.

He prided himself on the fact that he and the other soldiers had dedicated just as much time to crossbow training, spurred on by their overwhelming victory in the last battle.

Yet, only those three hundred or so were showing such outstanding results. Even during the battle against Silvan, more than half of them hadn’t been able to perform to this level.

It could only be explained as a clear difference in talent.

‘Those are the ones who will become knights, I suppose.’

Including the instructors from the mercenary corps who had initially been with the young Duke, about half of the existing senior soldiers, and those knight trainees, there were now over nine hundred mounted crossbowmen.

Excluding the Knights, they were currently the strongest force in the McLaine army.

Everyone in McLaine knew the story of how the young Duke had saved the family from crisis with just three hundred mounted crossbowmen.

Therefore, being recognized as a mounted crossbowman in McLaine was practically the same as being recognized as one of the best elites. Moreover, it wasn’t just about honor.

After the previous battle, the salary of the mounted crossbowmen was officially set at more than double that of regular soldiers.

Therefore…

‘I worked so hard…’

Frustration tightened Northern’s chest like a too-small tunic. He lowered his head, the brim of his helmet shadowing his eyes, hiding the shame burning there.

He had fully realized over the past year that he didn’t have the talent to be a knight. Even ignoring amazing people like Viktor, who became a knight very quickly, Northern could see the knight trainees getting better every day.

So, he lowered his goal to joining the mounted crossbowmen, but even that had failed. He felt utterly pathetic.

If he failed this time as well, it would be even harder in the next selection when soldiers from Silvan would also be eligible to apply. He had heard that many of the soldiers from that region, hardened by years of border skirmishes, were experienced cavalrymen.

‘I have to provide for my family.’

His father had been bedridden with illness for three months already. His mother, with his fifth sibling on the way, was nearing her due date and unable to work in the fields.

He gritted his teeth, but tears flowed uncontrollably.

“How embarrassing…” He scrubbed roughly at his eyes with the back of his glove, hoping no one had seen the tears that betrayed his weakness, when a sudden, booming voice caught his attention.

“Stop! You, you, you! And all the soldiers with similar scores to those three, pick them all to make a thousand. For the time being, exclude swordsmanship and focus intensively on horsemanship and crossbow skills!” The young Duke’s fingertips pointed in several directions from afar.

And if he wasn’t mistaken, one of those times was definitely towards him.

“M-me?”

The instructor next to him sighed and patted him on the backside. “Looks like it, lad. Don’t look so surprised.”

Northern cheered, a surge of hope rising in his chest. “Yessss! Thank you… I mean, yes, sir!”

The veteran mercenary instructor, already worn down, sensed the heavy scent of blood once again in the young Duke’s instructions and his face hardened.

Logan watched the training exercises from the platform, his expression thoughtful.

“How are the knights from Silvan?”

“They have fully integrated into the Knights. They have seen the senior knights receive mithril swords, and they are even being taught the Iron Blood Sword technique. Their morale is high.”

“I see. Are there any other problems?”

A faint smile appeared on the lips of Knight Commander Heinckel, who was reporting to Logan. “There are no problems, but there is good news.”

“Good news?”

“Thanks to Princess Aileen’s participation in training, the other knights are being motivated.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s still mostly just ‘I can’t lose to a woman,’ but…”

Logan chuckled at the unexpected positive effect.

“That’s good. So, the approximate number of knights…”

“Is 152 in total, including myself.”

“Good.”

Logan turned his head in another direction, leaving behind Heinckel’s confident expression.

“A thousand mounted crossbowmen and one hundred and fifty knights. How much will the maintenance costs for the horses and equipment be?”

Dwayne, who was listening from the side, was also full of confidence, just like Heinckel. “We can still handle twice that amount without any problems.”

But Logan’s reaction was a little different from before.

“Only twice as much…”

Dwayne’s eyes widening: “Only twice as much?! Young Master, we’re drowning in horses already! The ranch is costing us a king’s ransom!”

Logan with a slight smile: “My apologies, Dwayne. Let’s just say… we’ll have resources to match our ambitions soon enough.”

Dwayne stared at Logan, his mouth slightly open. He’d seen this look before – that unnerving mix of certainty and hidden knowledge that always meant more trouble, and usually more expense, for Dwayne.

“You’re making me uneasy again. Why are you doing this? Are you really preparing for war?!”

“Then what do you think I’m doing right now?”

“It was you, young master, who said that we need to build our strength to defeat Bipros! We are still far from enough. Even if we strike Peretta, Bipros won’t stand idly by…!”

“I know.”

“…If you know that, then what are you talking about right now?”

The young Duke spoke as if he were lecturing them. “But even if we know we’re not enough, there are times when we have to do it. Times like… Now is that time for us.”

But the two retainers, faced with Logan’s unusually serious expression, couldn’t offer any further objections. Perhaps it was because the atmosphere had suddenly become too heavy.

Logan turned to look at them and slightly raised the corners of his lips. “But don’t worry too much. I have a plan. Don’t you trust me?”

At his confident statement, the two retainers could only nod weakly.

‘If there’s no war, there’s nothing to worry about in the first place.’

They could never voice their true feelings.

“Well, shall we check the other side as well?” Whether he knew their complicated feelings or not, Logan moved with enthusiasm.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop. The sound of hooves echoed cheerfully across the fields. Several riders galloped, lances in hand. Although they weren’t knights, their momentum was quite fierce.

Soon, the blunt ends of the lances, lined up in a row, were swung at the soldiers holding shields as big as themselves.

“Ugh!”

“Ack!”

As many of the shieldbearers failed to withstand the impact and tumbled to the ground, Kai, who was watching them from beside Logan, shouted loudly.

“Don’t lose focus! Are you going to lie down and beg to be killed on the battlefield too?!”

Kai’s scolding, which snapped them to attention, continued. “What are you going to do if you take the lance head-on! I told you to shift the point of impact just before colliding!!”

If it were as easy as saying it, everyone would be a master of shield techniques. Moreover, even Logan found it hard to imagine that such operation was possible while holding such a large shield.

“Isn’t the shield a bit heavy?”

“When I was young, I used a shield much heavier than that to stop knights’ spears,” Kai said, puffing out his chest. “People called me ‘Knight-Catcher’ back then. This is easy. Hey, Henry! Get up, quickly!”

Logan watched the soldiers with a critical eye. *With Kai’s crazy training, this might actually work.*

“This training is very hard,” Logan said, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure their bodies can handle it?”

“Small injuries are fine,” Kai replied with a dismissive wave. “We have potions and herbs to help them recover quickly.”

Logan frowned slightly. What *kind* of training is this?

Logan watched, eyes wide, as the soldiers, who had just been knocked down, scrambled back to their feet with surprising speed. They moved like puppets with strings pulled tight, shaking off the impact as if it were nothing.

‘They are just normal men, not magically strong, and that impact must have been huge,’ Logan thought, bewildered.

Kai’s grin widened, a flash of teeth in his weathered face, seeing Logan’s shock.

“They are not skilled with crossbows yet, but they are brave. I chose the bravest ones,” Kai explained. “We give them a special mix of potions and herbs to help them heal quickly and feel better after training. This will stop any problems later. Soon, they should be strong enough to stand firm even when a knight on horseback charges at them with full force, just like you wanted.”

Logan frowned slightly. ‘Guts and herbs?’ he thought, unconvinced. But if it worked, he wouldn’t question it. Aloud, he said, “If it works, that’s all that matters. What about the rest of the soldiers? How is their training going?”

“The crossbow cavalrymen have doubled their riding practice, and the regular soldiers have doubled their shooting practice,” Kai said, his eyes gleaming with pride. “I’ve also increased the crossbow cavalry training for the knight trainees for the time being. Would you like to see?”

“Of course,” Logan replied, intrigued.

The ground vibrated with the thunder of hooves as the cavalry approached.

A wave of cavalry, over a hundred strong, surged across the field. Sunlight glinted off their armor as they moved as one, a river of men and horses.

“Fire!” Kai roared.

A deafening *crack* echoed across the training ground as a hundred crossbows fired at once. The air filled with the *whizz* of bolts, and then the satisfying *thunk* as they slammed into the thick ironwood targets, dark and scarred from countless hits, four hundred meters distant.

There were very few misses.

In a field slightly away from the crossbow cavalry training grounds, fully armed soldiers with crossbows were scrambling over rough walls, ducking under low-hanging branches, and leaping across ditches in a hastily built obstacle course.

As the dozens of soldiers ran the set course, the moment the instructor’s command rang out, they instantly turned and fired their crossbows without hesitation.

A hail of bolts flew, each finding its mark with deadly accuracy. Logan had to admit, it was a formidable display.

Other soldiers, not on the main training grounds, were practicing with thick cords, like the strings of crossbows, pulling them back and forth to build strength.

Training, waiting, resting, and strength exercises filled their days.

Each troop type was divided into four groups, training thoroughly.

Currently, all the troops in the McLaine Territory, except for the veteran soldiers maintaining security in the three castles and towns, were operating under this training system.

This training system, which Logan had started after the battle with Silvan and before his trip to the capital, was now fully established across the territory.

Logan clapped Kai on the shoulder, a genuine smile touching his lips. “Good work, Kai.” He turned, the sounds of training fading behind him as he walked towards the main castle. He had to tell his father about these improvements.

It was time to see his father.

Patrick raised an eyebrow as Logan entered his study. “More training, Logan? What is it this time?”

“Yes,” Logan confirmed, stepping further into the room.

“You know the McLaine Knights are already pushed harder than any other order in the kingdom, don’t you?” Patrick asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Of course, Father,” Logan replied calmly. “But this is different.”

“More? What could possibly be left to train?” Patrick chuckled, but there was a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

“Just listen, Father,” Logan urged. “I think you’ll agree.”

Logan explained the siege training plan. Patrick listened intently, his usual stern expression slowly changing to one of grim satisfaction. When Logan finished, Patrick let out a low whistle.

“Hoo. That’ll be very useful indeed.”

With that one sentence, another training course was added to the McLaine Knights’ already hellish routine.

“Ack!” a knight cried out.

A sheer cliff face, twenty meters of jagged rock, rose straight up. It looked impossible to climb, let alone fight on.

Just as a knight, stepping carefully between the rocky walls, was about to reach the top of the cliff, he was struck on the helmet with a wooden sword.

The knight, wearing heavy armor, lost consciousness and plummeted from the cliff, armor clanking against the rock face as he fell.

Patrick, with surprising strength, braced himself and caught the heavy knight in his arms, breaking his fall just inches from the ground.

“Oof. Keron, eliminated. Dismissed,” Patrick announced.

“Ugh, dismissed,” the knight mumbled.

Even though the impact was clearly visible, the knight staggered and turned back.

Then, with eyes glazed over, as if the fall had knocked all thought from his head, he approached and sat among his similarly dazed comrades.

It was a near-death experience that even a knight would find difficult.

So, it was no wonder they were dazed.

“Aargh!” another knight screamed.

“Oh dear, another one!” Heinckel exclaimed.

This time Heinckel caught a knight with a slightly more strained expression than his lord.

That knight, too, collapsed onto the ground, his face pale and empty, as if all the strength had drained from his body.

“Who came up with this insane training…” one knight whispered.

“Shhh. Who else but the Grand Duke,” another replied.

“Grand Duke, you son of a…”

Twitch.

It wasn’t a pleasant experience to hear every little whisper.

But his father, who had clapped his hands as soon as he heard about this training plan, clearly looked satisfied.

“It’s a solid siege training. Plus, it trains the defending side too. Everything’s good except for the slight danger!” Patrick declared cheerfully.

Slight? Slight danger?

At that absurdly cheerful comment, all the knights waiting glared at their lord’s back with open resentment for a fleeting moment.

Of course, they lowered their eyes as soon as he turned around.

“Everyone, get your heads in the game! Front row, again! 10 gold deducted from your monthly pay for every failure. Increased pay for success. Hanson, you’ll have no monthly pay this month at this rate!” Patrick announced, his voice booming across the training ground.

At the word ‘pay cut,’ even the knights who had failed looked up at the cliff again.

The cliff loomed above them, a stark reminder of the painful falls and the humiliation of failure.

Most of them were regular knights, and even those wielding wooden swords on the cliff were squad leaders, that is, intermediate knights.

One knight muttered under his breath, ‘This is suicide. We’re supposed to be knights, not mountain goats!’

It was a situation where they couldn’t help but grind their teeth, and only helpless sighs increased.

“Huh?!” someone exclaimed.

“Not bad…” another muttered.

“Huh…?”

Then, a murmur rippled through the watching knights. A figure, smaller than the rest, began to ascend the cliff face with surprising speed. She moved with a fluid grace, finding handholds and footholds where others struggled, her small form a blur against the grey rock.

“He’s fast, but…” one knight observed.

“He won’t make it anyway,” another predicted.

Most of the knights watching thought he would still fail.

No matter how they looked at it, this was an extremely disadvantageous fight for the one climbing.

At least one of two conditions had to be met for it to be possible: either the one climbing was a master of higher skill, or there were many of them.

And since that challenger was definitely not an intermediate knight yet, the result was obvious.

However, regardless of success or failure, there were those who were pleased with the challenger’s appearance itself.

“…He’s definitely quite something,” Patrick admitted, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Oh, so you admit it now?” Logan asked, a smile playing on his lips.

“Did you see how she kept going even after slipping?” Patrick murmured, impressed. “And the way she uses her weight, so clever. And she’s barely more than a child! His potential is endless.”

“That’s a relief,” Logan said sincerely.

If his father acknowledged it, it was as good as saying that most of the McLaine Knights had acknowledged Aileen.

It was progressing much faster than he had expected.

That was why he could watch Aileen’s challenge with a smile, until right before the result came out.

“Ptooey!”

A spray of spit shot out from under the helmet as he approached the knight trying to climb onto the cliff.

Intermediate Knight Kelly, his face contorted, lowered his head instead of swinging his sword.

And in that gap, the small figure clinging to the cliff, Aileen, swung her iron sword, aiming for Kelly’s groin.

Wham!

The iron sword whistled through the air with a sharp *whoosh*, aimed with deadly precision.

The moment Kelly took a step back in shock, Aileen quickly seized the spot and raised her sword, aiming it at him.

“Yes! Success!” she shouted in elation, but most of those watching could only gape in astonishment.

“…Didn’t you say she was a countess’s daughter?” one knight whispered in disbelief.

“Yes… probably…” another replied, equally stunned.

It was an absurd method, but success was success.

The problem was that the knights who challenged after her also began to follow Aileen’s method.

Soon, the cliff face was a chaotic mess of knights spitting and swinging low, the air thick with shouts of disgust and grudging admiration. The training had become less about skill and more about… well, whatever Aileen was doing.

Logan watched the scene unfold, a hand going to his forehead. “Oh, no,” he groaned quietly. “What have I started?”

Aileen wasn’t just fitting into the Knights; she was reshaping them in her own unexpected, and slightly disgusting, image.