An hour or so after John's brief history test concluded, the sun reached its zenith, signaling the start of his hour-long basic sword training session with the Grand Duke's knights. It was a grueling experience where he would be pummeled by highly skilled warriors, honing his combat skills.
After enduring two intense hours of training, John bid farewell to the knights and made his way out of the grand training hall within the castle's main building. He headed towards the newly established military academy, where his private unit of 100 soldiers awaited him. During the unit selection process, John handpicked individuals who displayed exceptional aptitude with weapons or mana. He also requested Friedrich to join his unit as his second-in-command, given their growing familiarity over the past few months—an arrangement that Dante reluctantly agreed to.
As John entered the designated training field, a soldier on guard announced his arrival. "Unit leader John Von Eldrin has arrived," the guard declared, omitting his title as prince and emphasizing his role as the unit leader—a title John had requested the soldiers to address him by, fostering a sense of unity among his troops.
"ATTENTION, SALUTE!" Friedrich bellowed, prompting the unit members to snap into a tight formation and offer a respectful salute with their hands over their chests.
"At ease," John commanded, walking to the front and addressing the assembled soldiers.
Once everyone settled, John began, "I have a few important updates for all of you regarding organization, further training, and specializations." He paused, scanning their faces, noting the initial confusion.
"Take a deep breath and listen to what I have to say first. Save the whispers for later," John gently instructed, coughing lightly as he waited for silence to settle over the training area.
"Good," he said once only the rustling leaves provided a backdrop of sound.
"The first announcement concerns the future of this unit. As you all know, I handpicked each and every one of you for the newest batch of recruits because I saw potential in you. However, until now, our training has focused on drilling the fundamental skills and organization required of any army unit. Essentially, we are little more than a slightly well-trained infantry division at this point, and I'm certain none of you joined this unit to settle for that," John acknowledged, acknowledging the dissatisfaction etched on their faces, while also urging them not to be disheartened.
"I share this not to discourage you but to give you a glimpse of reality. Remember, everyone has a learning curve, and expertise is developed over time. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately for you—the Grand Duke will be joining us today to help revamp our training regime. Whether you should feel happy or sad about that… well, I'll leave it to you. Just know that, as someone who trains with him daily, I can assure you there's no worse hell for the body," John remarked, his face displaying a wry smile that elicited a range of shadowed and resigned expressions from the soldiers.
"Now, secondly, I'll finally be organizing the unit based on your specialties. When I formed this unit, I already considered your aptitudes, so there's no need to worry about an uneven distribution of manpower. The 100-man unit will be divided into five attaché groups, each consisting of twenty soldiers. Within each attaché, there will be four teams, each comprising five soldiers. I'll personally lead one attaché, and Friedrich here will lead another. As for the remaining attaché leaders, I'll appoint them once you've completed your specialization training properly. But for now, since most of you struggle to stay on your contracted beasts without falling multiple times, it's best to set aside thoughts of becoming an attaché leader and simply focus on doing your best," John taunted playfully, causing a sour expression to flicker across the soldiers' faces.
"Now, each attaché will have a team leader, and the team leaders will report to their respective attaché leaders, who in turn will report directly to me. This paper here outlines the attaché organization that I've planned. Once I'm done speaking, I'll hand it over to Friedrich, who will distribute it to you at the end of today's training," John explained, producing a stack of papers from his storage ring.
"Now, onto the most crucial piece of information—and my final announcement for today, until the Grand Duke arrives. Starting today, in addition to basic training, we will commence combat drills. I'm unsatisfied with the progress we've made so far, but I believe that engaging in combat is the best form of training. Therefore, we'll split into two teams of fifty soldiers and spar against each other. While we may still have a long way to go in terms of mastering the basics, this fighting experience will serve us well in the long run," John conveyed, studying the expressions of his unit members, each face burdened with a mix of determination and trepidation.
As John surveyed his soldiers, noting their dejected expressions, he felt a surge of anger rise within him. With a stern and resolute gaze, he shouted, his voice filled with intensity, "LISTEN HERE, ALL OF YOU! THERE'S NO POINT IN SULKING AROUND. WHEN I HANDPICKED EACH ONE OF YOU FOR THIS TEAM, I MADE IT CLEAR THAT THE TRAINING WOULD BE MORE GRUELING THAN ANYTHING YOU COULD IMAGINE. AND EACH OF YOU WILLINGLY SIGNED UP, DECLARING THAT YOU HAD NO QUALMS ABOUT THE DIFFICULTY IF IT MEANT BECOMING STRONGER AND RECEIVING FOOD, SHELTER, AND PAYMENT. SO, TELL ME NOW, ARE YOU TURNING INTO A GROUP OF COWARDS WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH?"
"SIR, NO, SIR!" his soldiers responded in unison, their voices resonating with newfound determination, their fists clenched tightly.
John continued to address his troops with unwavering fervor, "WHERE IS ALL THAT ENERGY, YOU STARVING POWER-HUNGRY LOT? WHERE IS THE FIRE THAT ONCE BURNED IN YOUR EYES WHEN I RESCUED YOU FROM THE FATE OF MERE CANNON FODDER? HAS IT ALL VANISHED NOW THAT YOUR DESPERATION HAS WANED? HAS THE COMFORT OF FREE FOOD, SHELTER, AND A LITTLE MUSCLE BULK CLOUDED YOUR MINDS TO THE REASON I PLUCKED EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU FROM THE DAMN STREETS?"
"SIR, NO, SIR!" his soldiers shouted back, their voices carrying a renewed sense of purpose.
"GOOD! Then I don't want to see a single one of you standing here as if the whole goddamn world has crumbled just because the training has intensified. Act like your life depends on it, because, by the gods, it does! Imprint those words in your minds, do you understand?"
"SIR, YES, SIR!" the troops responded with a resounding shout, punctuated by a sharp salute.
"GOOD. DISPERSE! Friedrich, come here," John called out, his voice now calm yet firm. As the unit dispersed, he let out a slight sigh, realizing that this was the first time his soldiers had witnessed this side of him. Most of the time, he embodied a kind, calm, and collected unit leader. But now, a new image of John emerged in their minds—the two-faced man who could be a god to those who served him faithfully and a demon to those who dared provoke him. They bestowed upon him the nickname Janus, a name that would stick with him throughout his life.