What do Merlin and Uther know about educating the next generation?
Uther, that old bastard, had Arthur training for over twenty hours a day in meaningless sword drills. Was that any way to treat a five-year-old?
Even slaves would shake their heads at that.
Kaelar believed in nurturing from a young age, developing potential early.
But he endorsed a truly systematic approach, an elite education akin to the Six Arts of the gentleman—focusing on a well-rounded development in virtues, intelligence, physical skills, culture, and practical arts.
Combined with a healthy balance of work and play, Arthur would achieve her full potential far sooner.
Kaelar reorganized Arthur's training. Three hours of basic swordplay, combined with stance work and footwork drills, followed by sparring. In addition, there were lessons in horsemanship, mathematics, history, literature...
And finally, a special curriculum Kaelar designed just for Arthur—a trove of knowledge from the future, things far beyond the comprehension of these "Celtic barbarians."
The standard for horsemanship was being able to ride a galloping horse from any position or terrain, whether it be flat ground or a steep hill, and to do so without losing balance—engaging in mounted combat and archery with ease.
In mathematics, she needed to calculate the daily rations of an army of ten thousand and manage logistics, estimating the carrying capacity of carts, ships, and beasts of burden—skills neither the Celts nor the Saxons currently possessed.
The fighting styles of Celts and Saxons were akin to mindless brawls—two tribes clashing without any real strategy or formations, relying solely on raw strength.
Why did the Romans call the northern tribes "barbarians"?
Because they truly had no cultural foundation. While they might produce exceptional warriors by chance, they lacked a structured system for nurturing elites.
But how could one become a great general without mastering numbers?
As for history, that was even simpler—history was the essential lesson for any ruler. How could a king learn from past mistakes without studying history?
Regrettably, Europe lacked a tradition of compiling national histories. Instead, nobles had genealogies, poetry, and heroic epics—barely enough to serve as historical texts.
And then there were Kaelar's private lessons...
Kaelar had started to treat the ahoge-bearing king as a sort of strategy game character, finding immense satisfaction in watching the diligent little girl's skills grow day by day.
"I trust you're telling the truth, Lily. Sparring can wait. You're not like those average mediocrities; you have a natural gift. Sword practice can be done whenever there's time."
Kaelar himself possessed the permanent Blue Talent [Mastery of All Combat Arts], but it seemed that Arthur had a similar innate talent in cold weapons, perhaps something like [King of Knights]. After her first day of training, she was already surpassing many of the seasoned knights at Maple Ridge.
At this point, only Kaelar could spar with Arthur and manage to keep her in check.
Nodding with satisfaction, Kaelar asked, "How are you progressing with the methods I taught you for drilling and leading troops, as well as various combat scenarios—melee, cavalry, field battles, and sieges?"
"How are you doing with Military Essentials and The New Treatise on Military Training?"
Hearing this, the confident expression on Arthur's face fell, her radiant golden hair dimming. Even the proud ahoge drooped as she said quietly, "I... I haven't learned it yet."
"It's... it's a bit hard. I think it would be easier to understand if I could master the calculations you're teaching me."
Arthur seemed embarrassed. She still couldn't fully grasp the military texts Kaelar had put together, while he had somehow distilled all those profound insights into his teachings.
Kaelar didn't get angry. He simply said, "This isn't something you can master in a year. I've given you an eight-year timeline. If you can understand these two military manuals within five years, you'll be doing excellently."
Indeed, Kaelar's personal lessons for Arthur were based on the culmination of Qi Jiguang's lifetime of military strategy: Military Essentials and The New Treatise on Military Training.
While The Art of War was renowned, Qi Jiguang's writings represented the pinnacle of Chinese military thought. With those texts, even a simple farmer could be taught to train elite soldiers.
Qi Jiguang's manuals were refreshingly practical, written in plain language, detailing how to drill troops, lead them, maintain discipline, form formations, handle logistics, and even manage provisions and hygiene—everything a commander needed to know.
They were the perfect fit for this era.
As for other works that were even more advanced, Kaelar felt they weren't suitable for the current level of productivity. In an age of cold weapons, Qi Jiguang's collected wisdom remained supreme.
"All right, Lily. Dinner's over. Let's move on to a bit of history."
Kaelar smiled, setting aside military strategy for the moment. "Lily, what did you learn today?"
Arthur replied earnestly, "At the end of the Roman Republic, one of the Triumvirs, Crassus, suppressed the Spartacus uprising."
Arthur knew that this was Kaelar's teaching time. History was the best subject to guide a ruler—using the past to understand the present.
Kaelar's expression remained neutral as he asked, "Do you think Crassus was just? Or was Spartacus's rebellion justified?"
"Crassus used the decimation practice, instilling fear through blood and terror to make his soldiers fight to the death. That's how he suppressed Spartacus's rebellion."
Arthur shook her head, adding, "That's not the way of a wise leader, nor is it the behavior of a great general. A truly capable commander doesn't rely on such brutality."
During the Tang Dynasty, the military god Li Jing governed his troops with a thirteen-strike decimation rule, making his soldiers nearly invincible. Yet, his reputation among other generals and ministers was abysmally low. Many viewed him with contempt.
In contrast, there was Han Xin, one of the three great generals of early Han.
When Marquis Wu of Yang, Fan Kuai, saw Han Xin—demoted to the rank of Marquis of Huaiyin and captured at Yunmeng Lake for supposed treason—he bowed deeply, addressing him as "Great King," and took pride in that act. Among over a hundred founding lords, few could afford to call Han Xin "Great King."
Han Xin's prestige, aside from that of Xiao He and Liu Bang, was unrivaled.
This highlighted the difference between commanding with righteousness and commanding with cruelty.
Li Jing's strategy treated people as mere tools, turning soldiers into ruthless beasts. With a high success rate, it required little finesse and left a tainted legacy.
Crassus's use of the decimation practice during Rome's slave era was still debated today.
Li Jing, however, used a thirteen-strike decimation method, boasting that only a true general could command soldiers without rebellion under such harsh rules. He looked down on those who relied on the milder eleven-strike method.
Li Jing wasn't wrong—he had indeed mastered the art of command. If he failed, it was the soldiers' fault. But if others tried the same tactics and lost a few battles, mutiny would be inevitable.
"And what about Spartacus? Where there's oppression, there's resistance."
Arthur looked at Kaelar and said, "When a ruler treats their people like dirt, the people will see the ruler as their enemy. When a ruler treats their people as kin, the people will hold the ruler close to their hearts. That's what you taught me."
"Well said, Lily. You remember it well." Kaelar's gaze softened, his voice taking on a contemplative tone. "Now, let me teach you one more thing—'Only the righteous have no enemies.'"
"This is the essence of invincibility born from righteousness."