Cardboard House Doesn’t Tear 2

Chapter 2

After 4 Years as a Slave in a Mercenary House, Even a Graduate Student Can Wield a Sword

“Ase, return to position.”

“Aye!!!”

Two years have passed since I arrived in this world. I was still being relentlessly driven.

Living in the Hwaruan mercenary group, named after the mercenary captain, was truly a struggle against myself.

It was only natural to think that way when you were made to lift stones above your head and put them down every day, with the weight of the stones gradually increasing, all while being forced to use all sorts of strange objects like swords, staffs, and bows.

“Ase, are you struggling!!!”

‘No!!!’

“Ye… No, sir, Aye!!!”

Ah, I said the opposite of what I meant.

I felt Hwaruan’s face harden at my slip-up, so I quickly shouted loudly, and his expression softened again.

“You little… Pathetic!!!”

Hwaruan used the terms “pathetic” and “spirited,” which I had taught him, quite effectively.

And they suited him very well.

So I had to shout once more. If my voice was too quiet next time, a fist would be coming my way.

“Aye!!”

“This is the training course you chose. Endure it with grit and determination. Understand?”

‘Fuck.’

“Aye!!!”

The harsh treatment disguised as re-socialization, personally conducted by Hwaruan, was too much for Kim Pyeong-ju, a man who had survived the Military Manpower Administration as a veteran public service worker.

“Ase! Did you say you wanted to learn how to become a true man!!!”

No.

“Aye!”

This time I answered correctly, and Hwaruan started spouting his unique brand of mental training.

“It’s simple, Ase! Eat a lot, and get hit a lot! Then you’ll either die or become a man!”

“Excuse me?”

“You save your ‘excuse me’ for the outside world. The only things you need to maintain here are your spirit and a firm stance, Ase!! Understand!!”

“Aye!!!”

“Captain. It’s time. We need to leave now.”

While I was being relentlessly trained, Skal, a member of the mercenary group, came looking for Hwaruan. The carriage must have arrived.

“Ase, return to position! We’ll stop here for today, and get ready to work tomorrow!”

“Aye!!”

‘Fuck.’

Why am I cursing when he’s saying we’re done for the day?

Because the battlefield I was dragged to after being subjected to the hellish training of the otherworldly Gunny Highway, or rather Hwaruan, was just fucking hell.

“Prepare.”

A vast field with a majestic castle in the distance stretched out before us, covered in a wide expanse of grass.

The lush greenery and scattered white wildflowers would have created a truly peaceful scene.

The peaceful landscape would have bowed its head in greeting whenever the wind blew.

On a sunny day like today, there would have been sheep grazing in the field and shepherds lying down beside them.

But today wasn’t that kind of day.

It wouldn’t be.

“Chaaaaaaarge!!!!”

“Aaaaaaye!!!”

We all charged forward at Hwaruan’s command. The ground shook, and my breath quickened, filling the air with the smell of sweat instead of the fragrance of grass.

There was nowhere to run. And I had no intention of running.

So I ran faster.

There was nowhere to go even if I ran.

From the opposite side, waves of silver and brown surged towards the sky. Their eyes were fierce.

“Waaaaaaagh!!!”

“Kill them all!!!”

Finally, the puzzle pieces made of humans began to interlock.

They fit together so perfectly that blood splattered from the gaps between them.

Thud! Thud!

―Clang!

“Die!”

“Aaaaagh!”

―Clang!

The peaceful meadow was stained with blood.

Instead of the leisurely bleating of sheep, the air was filled with the sounds of arrows, screams, pleas for mercy, and desperate taunts.

With a thwack, a man’s head flew off.

The perpetrator, blinded by the primary colors of red and white, often became the victim of an axe thrown from behind.

―Clang!

“Uwaaaaagh!”

“My arm! My arm!!!”

Even at this moment, somewhere on the battlefield, swords and men were weeping.

Someone’s mother would be wailing underground, watching her child follow her.

As the chaotic battlefield turned red, several scenes were imprinted in my mind like photographs while I looked around for survival.

It was the process of people dying. I didn’t remember their faces.

Although they were born on different days and raised in different ways,

They all died on the same day, and their ways of falling were different.

―Thud!

“Gurgling.”

I saw a man fall, clutching his neck, hit by a stray arrow while backpedaling to avoid a sword.

“Die!”

“My eyes!!”

A man, fallen on the ground after being struck by a sword, threw dirt in a final act of defiance, and a broken sword, thrust in the gap, pierced his chest, killing him.

And the survivor, staggering to his feet, was struck down by a club swung from behind. His fate ended there.

Such sights were as common as finding grass in a meadow, and as easy to find as finding red in a sea of blood.

My vision blurred red, and my ears went numb.

And the lesson that the fierce battlefield, where dying with an intact corpse was considered a good death, showed was simple.

Just because there were many didn’t mean the enemy wouldn’t attack, and individual skill didn’t lower the chances of surviving a stray arrow.

Therefore, the clichéd battlefield I had seen in movies was even more chaotic because it was clichéd.

I ran again. Somewhere. Anywhere.

But at least not straight ahead. The archers in the distance were aiming for that direction.

Nor backwards. Enemies I couldn’t handle were gathering with fierce eyes.

My head swiveled, and my legs, taut with fear of muscle cramps, moved faster than ever towards survival.

Amidst the arrows and swords flying from all directions, all I could do was run and focus on the enemy in front of me. And if I was unlucky, I’d get an arrow to the head and die.

Sadly, I spotted an enemy. I ran again.

“Die!!!”

Yes. Towards that nameless, emotionless bastard.

My head cooled. I vented the remaining heat and bloodlust with curses on my tongue.

“Get the fuck out of my way!”

An axe flew towards me with a whooshing sound. But I had a feeling it wouldn’t reach me at this distance.

So instead of blocking or parrying it with my shield, I dodged.

Hwaruan had said that someone who always blocks even when they can dodge is an idiot.

I agreed. Anyone who had experienced the bruises on their palms and forehead from trying to block Hwaruan’s full swing would understand.

If you’re going to block everything that comes your way, you should be on a baseball field, not a battleground.

That’s not a tough guy, that’s a clueless idiot who’s in the wrong sport – I thought as I quickly crossed my feet, closing and widening the distance.

“You move like a rat!”

The enemy’s attacks, failing to land, became more and more ferocious. But ferocious didn’t mean strong.

Just as rough wood reveals its vulnerable flesh by getting caught between scales, an attack that didn’t properly conceal its intentions soon revealed the enemy’s intentions.

Soon, the sixth sense in my head, my ‘gut feeling,’ whispered.

―Downward strike from the upper right, followed by a natural attack to the left side.

The axe was coming down towards my head. It would be foolish to take the full force of that blow head-on.

“Just a little!”

So I deflected it with the side of my one-handed arming sword. I felt the axe’s trajectory shift with a clang.

When the enemy tried to retrieve the axe and swing it horizontally, I didn’t retrieve my sword and blocked it with my shield. My arm throbbed with a thud, but I could still endure it.

The brown-haired man stopped his attack for a moment and looked at me. It was a tactic to catch his breath. It was fine by me.

I didn’t want to remember his face. So I forgot it.

“Huff, huff. You… with that strength, are you a werewolf born from your mother mating with a wolf?”

The enemy tried some Northern-style trash talk, but I was past the point of being fazed by such provocations.

Provocation was a very good way to create an opening in your opponent, and there was no rule saying only one side could use it. So I just had to return the favor.

“It was your mother who fucked a dog, you son of a bitch.”

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a motherfucking insult for a motherfucking insult.

“Does your mother still drool all over whenever she sees a retriever? Make sure she drinks plenty of water so she doesn’t get dehydrated.”

“What kind of crazy bastard are you?”

“Ah. So it’s drooling down below. Sorry. I missed a word.”

The red-faced enemy charged at me again. His ragged breathing suggested he hadn’t caught his breath properly.

Since the one who started the insults had lost the insult battle, it was time to lose the sword fight.

Surrounded by people clashing with swords and spears, we exchanged blows once more.

―Clang!

“You move like a goddamn dog!”

“That’s why your mother liked it!”

The answer that came back was an axe. Of course, it was the wrong answer.

As I continued to dodge and deflect, I noticed the speed of the axe slowing down. It was a sign that the enemy’s strength was waning.

So I decided to take a gamble.

“Just die already!”

The axe, gripped in both of the enemy’s hands, was coming straight down towards me.

I pulled my left arm, holding the round shield, towards my chest. The axe continued its descent towards my head.

―Whoosh!

I gripped the handle of the shield tightly, without trembling.

The shield was now in front of my right elbow.

At the same time, the enemy’s axe reached my neck.

I quickly stepped to the right and waited.

To send him where he needed to go.

“…..!”

It wasn’t easy to retrieve a weapon after putting all your strength into a downward swing.

Just like a fire truck wouldn’t stop at a red light, the axe, swung down with both hands, passed through where my chest would have been. It was my chance.

―Thud!

I swung my shield outwards like a flapping wing, striking the side of the axe. The enemy lost his weapon.

“W-What?!”

“Goodbye, you son of a bitch.”

―Slash!

And the man’s head falling onto the battlefield didn’t take long after the previous event.

I decided to forget the unpleasantness of the kill, the subtle sensation felt even through the thick gloves I had chosen to dull my senses.

I didn’t need it.

Instead, I repeated the number in my head.

Therefore, he was the third for me. Just the third enemy I had killed in today’s battle. That was enough.

The only sensation I wanted to feel was the touch of the revised version of my master’s thesis, which would be sleeping on my desk when I eventually returned to my original world.

I survived that day’s battle as well.

***

Four years have passed. I now knew that what I was holding wasn’t an iron bar.

I looked at the tree in front of me. This was almost the last tree planted in the mercenary group’s grounds.

Thud. I kicked the tree, and the already sparse leaves fell to the ground.

Seven leaves,

One sword,

Three swings.

This was my fifty-seventh attempt.

The first leaf, falling slightly earlier than the others, descended to just above eye level.

If I didn’t draw my sword in advance, it would be too late. I swung the arming sword I had been holding.

Swish. The first and third falling leaves were split in half. I failed to target the sixth.

But the diagonal cut, from right to left, was clean. And-

“Focus, Ase.”

Hwaruan’s reprimand, sensing my distraction, was even cleaner.

I regained my stance. I had two more chances.

What I had to do now wasn’t to damage the leaves, but to practice connecting points with lines in a predetermined manner.

That was the lesson I had learned from fifty-six failures, which had brought me to this fifth tree as winter approached.

“Ha!”

―Whoosh!

The green leaves, scattering in the air, were sliced in two by the silver line drawn horizontally. They were the second, sixth, and lucky seventh, and unlucky fourth.

―Slash!

As I drew a horizontal line in the air with my arming sword, I retracted the sword into my body and rotated to the right.

The end of the rotating world was only a stop. As I stepped forward with my left foot while rotating, I thrust my sword forward with my right foot following.

Thwack!

It was the exact distance for the tip of my sword to reach the leaf.

The last, third leaf was pierced by the blade of my arming sword.

The goddamn difficult last line connection. I had even succeeded in the thrust after the cut.

“Ase. Not bad this time!”

Hwaruan praised me. After enduring countless insults, that was enough for me.

I bowed my head.

“Thank you, Hwaruan.”

“That’s what my disciple should be able to do.”

Sadly, I had become this man’s disciple.

The reason was simple. He coveted my talent.

It wasn’t like I suddenly developed some cheat ability in this different world, absolutely not.

It was just that…

Instead of ‘I swung like hell, but it didn’t work,’ it became ‘I swung like hell, and it actually worked.’

The problem was that it was because of Hwaruan’s special training.

• What the fuck, Ase. How did that work?

• I swung like hell, Hwaruan. Like, really fucking hard.

That was a year ago.

I still can’t forget the look of astonishment on Hwaruan’s face when I, albeit clumsily, managed to replicate the “fucking awesome flash” he had shown me, saying “You can’t do this,” a week later.

Of course. I had been swinging the damn sword all night without sleeping. Well, I woke up from nightmares and swung it, but still.

Even though I became Hwaruan’s disciple, my treatment didn’t change.

He just started driving me even harder.

But the more he pushed me, the stronger I became, and so Hwaruan pushed me even more.

And another year passed.