A knight is like iron.
Just as tempering iron makes it hard, a knight grows stronger when struck. That was my family's motto. The reason this body's father beat me every single day.
A crude, barbaric method, but it actually worked. When you feel a threat to your life from physical force, the unconscious moves the aura, and in that process the aura naturally fuses into the body. But moderate force wouldn't do. You have to feel a threat to your life for the unconscious to move the aura. A dangerous, barbaric method where even a small mistake could kill you.
It suited the crude, barbaric Milo very well.
"Ah, if it hurts too much, bark."
"Woof woof! Woof! Woof!!"
Before I'd even finished, Milo barked hurriedly.
"Mm, it's going well."
"I barked! I barked, dammiiit!"
Milo cried out as if wronged.
"Ah, there's been a misunderstanding. Telling you to bark if it hurts was to confirm it's working. It's going very well."
"No, it really fucking hurts!"
"Growth comes with pain, as a rule."
"It's not that level — it really hurts! Insane!"
"So, are you going to quit?"
At the word quit, Milo's eyes shot up.
"It'd suit me fine if you quit. It's a labor-intensive job — normally I wouldn't do it even for a hundred gold coins."
"S-someone offered a hundred gold coins to get beaten like this?"
"Two hundred, even. I turned it down, too much bother, of course."
"Insane—"
It wasn't a lie. There really had been a fellow who offered two hundred gold coins. Of course, he'd asked because he simply liked being beaten. I didn't bother mentioning that part.
"Motherf—! Fuck! Goddammit!"
Milo spat curses and dragged a hand down his face. Then he looked at me with much harder eyes and asked,
"Do this and I get stronger?"
"Yes, I guarantee it. It's my family's secret art."
"......You were a noble?"
Milo was shocked in a strange place.
"Can't you tell?"
"No, I figured you were an orphan like me—. Aaagh! Why are you hitting me!"
"Anyway, the effect is certain. I guarantee it."
Milo bit his lip hard. He bit so hard it split and bled.
"Fine, let's do it."
Milo said with a resolute face. He really did have a tough hide. But—
"'Let's do it'?"
"......Yes?"
"Your way of asking is all wrong."
"No—"
Milo's lips worked with a shit-eating face, then he dropped his head low.
"Please beat me! To a pulp!"
"Beat you. People who overhear will get the wrong idea."
"Then what do I call it?"
"Tempering. The technical term is aura tempering."
"'Tempering' sounds even more savage—"
"Anyway, you've agreed?"
At my question, Milo's face went pale. His eyes rolled, then he heaved a sigh deep as a condemned man's.
"Yes, I've agreed."
I resumed the work.
Milo clamped his mouth shut and held on. A resolute look, as if he'd never scream.
"Kyeeeeeek!"
It didn't last long, of course.
***
"Keeheeek......"
I looked down at Milo sprawled on the floor and let out an inward groan.
'His hide alone is top-tier.'
Aura tempering is excruciating. Because you have to feel a threat to your life as you're beaten. Even on that brutal front, only three men ever endured aura tempering. One was a pervert who enjoyed pain, another was a man who couldn't feel pain. Only one endured it whole, like Milo.
He did let out some pretty undignified screams, but Milo never gave up to the end. His hide alone is staggering.
You might think, what's the use of just a tough hide — but as long as you endure aura tempering, you grow steadily stronger, so it was clearly a good talent.
Milo even had a large store of accumulated aura. Probably because he'd never formally taken knight lessons. The aura he'd received as the previous Rift's reward hadn't been properly worked off, so it had piled up like this.
But—
'This is too much, isn't it?'
The accumulated aura was vastly more than I'd expected. This wasn't an amount that could pile up from a C-rank Rift's reward.
It seemed Logan's claim — that the 42nd Squad had fallen into a Rift and come back — was true after all.
'This much, it was at least an A-rank Rift.'
I handle all four natures — aura, black magic, magic, divine power. When it comes to Rifts, I'm a specialist. And even I can't guarantee an A-rank Rift—
Mere guards came back alive from an A-rank Rift? It made no sense.
Seeing as there was no trace of an Aberration, the vanished member Charlotte had probably made a deal with the Aberration directly—
'Her ability must be considerable.'
Of course, nothing compared to Evangeline.
Anyway, Milo had a lot of accumulated aura. Good hide, plus a large aura store—
"Congratulations. You're optimized for tempering."
Milo looked up at me, trembling. Not a happy face at all.
"O-optimized for tempering, what's that supposed to mean?"
"You have a large store of accumulated aura. With an excellent hide on top of it, you can be considered optimized for tempering. Try raising your aura once."
Milo raised his trembling fist and called up aura. It blazed up as if oil had been poured on fire. A truly crude aura.
"I-it really went up?"
Milo was genuinely delighted. The joy didn't last long, though.
"So, I have to do this again?"
Milo muttered with the face of a condemned man told 'the execution wasn't today, it's tomorrow.'
"Again?"
"......So? You're not doing it again?"
Milo asked, brightening. I corrected him flatly.
"Every day."
"E-every day?"
"Yes, every day. Then you'll get stronger every day."
Milo squeezed his eyes shut. A tear trickled from the corner of his eye. Tears of joy, it seemed.
"Ah, write your statement of apology before you sleep."
Milo's tears doubled.
***
The next day, the Corps roll call went as usual.
Seeing as the matter of the Republic's attack wasn't brought up at all, they seemed to mean to bury it as if it never happened. Naturally. If word spread that they'd failed to stop a Republic attack at the entrance ceremony, it would be fatal to the reputation of the continent's foremost academy.
Evelyn was absent from this roll call too. No one looked for her. They didn't seem to expect her in the first place.
The Corps Captain came out and prattled that the term was starting now, so stay sharp.
Once his speech ended, Hanswell handed out the assignments with practiced ease. I glanced at Milo. Catching my gaze, he threw his hand up with the face of a man on a suicide squad.
"I'll go on men's dorm support with Lord Grave!"
"'Lord' Grave?"
At Hanswell's correction, Milo hurriedly shook his head.
"What? I didn't say 'Lord,' I said 'son of a bitch.'"
"......'Son of a bitch'? Milo, watch your mouth. And duty isn't something you choose."
"The men's dorm is always short-handed anyway, isn't it! We'll go!"
"But—"
"Ah! I'm going! Let me go! Kyeeek!"
Milo flung himself down and thrashed. Watching, the surrounding guards burst out laughing.
Hanswell's face went red as if it might burst. Unlike last time, though, he didn't nod easily.
"Get up! Milo!"
"Let me do it! Let me!"
"Denied."
As if to break Milo's habit, Hanswell said it firmly. His resistance to it seemed to have grown stronger.
The problem was that the opponent was Milo. Without hesitation, Milo stripped off his shirt and flung it.
"Milo!! Put it on at once!"
"Don't know, don't care! Let me do it! Refuse and I'll take off my pants too!"
"......Fine! Fine!"
Hanswell couldn't hold out and consented.
"This is the last time. There won't be a next."
Hanswell said to Milo with a thoroughly twisted face. Milo nodded, then looked at me.
"This is the last time. Really, there's no next."
I didn't nod.
And so we joined the men's dorm duty without any particular trouble.
The men's dorm was a familiar place to me. I'd seen it often playing the game. The interior was splendid as something out of a fantasy film. A red carpet ran down the corridor, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling.
Very splendid — but the problem was the smell. A strangely familiar, musty smell drifted faintly.
'Ah, the smell of an army barracks.'
Here and there, undressed fellows ran around cackling. However splendid the interior, gather a bunch of men and it all comes out the same.
"This is why I hate men's dorm support—. Damn."
Milo pinched his nose, repulsed.
Seban, the leader of the 9th Squad in charge of the men's dorm, beckoned us over. Seban was a tired-looking, prickly middle-aged man. From his face alone he seemed quite fastidious.
"You two are on 3rd-floor bathroom cleaning."
"Who're you telling to clean toilets! I don't even wipe up my own crap!"
"If you don't like it, go back."
At Milo's tantrum, Seban said it firmly.
"I don't like it! Would you like cleaning someone else's cra—"
"Yes, we'll clean it spotless."
I covered Milo's mouth and answered.
Seban looked at me with sharp eyes and warned,
"Clean the bathroom properly. Do it halfway and you won't be clocking off."
"Yes, just leave it to us."
Seban gave a nod.
I hauled Milo off toward the central staircase.
"No, motherf—. How are we supposed to clean a bathroom!"
"It's fine. I'm not the one doing it."
"You're telling me to do it? I can't! How am I supposed to wipe a man's crap!"
Milo bellowed. He really seemed to hate cleaning bathrooms.
"Don't worry. I won't make you do it."
"Eh? Then who does it?"
"There's a specialist."
"......A specialist? There's a specialist even for bathroom cleaning?"
"There is."
In front of the central staircase, a guard was nodding off.
"Which is Raven's room?"
"Ah, that...... Raven?"
At Raven's name, the guard wore a sour expression.
Strange. Raven is a fellow who'd professionally learned how to win people's favor. In the game, Raven was popular with students, professors, and guards alike — so a reaction like that—
"Room 221. Be careful. Raven is......"
The guard glanced around and added in a low voice,
"...a guy with an STD."
"......An STD?"
"Yeah. There's even talk that just trading words with him makes your ears rot off. Damn, how did a guy like that get into the academy."
At the guard's words, I grasped how things had come to this.
When Raven had approached Evangeline, I'd leaked some unflattering talk about him to her to keep him off. That rumor had spread quite far, it seemed.
The culprit was obvious.
'Evangeline.'
On the 2nd floor there were guards too, but at the sight of my sorry-ass blue shirt, far from questioning me, they only bobbed their heads. Freshly impressed by the uniform's effect, I searched for Raven's room.
Raven's room was at the very end of the corridor. Whether because of the bad rumor, there were no guards near his room. Good news.
"Milo, go keep watch."
"Eh? What are you going to—"
"I have to hire the specialist."
I lightly shook out my hands.