Once Loya was standing in front of the team, Zefa continued.
"Now, I have decided that to prevent any more accidents, Loya will not participate in tomorrow's assessment."
He paused, then added with a cheerful smile, "But to be fair, he must accept a challenge from all the recruits. If he wins, he can join the elite battalion!"
The corners of Zefa's old mouth curled up in amusement. "Understood?"
"Understood!" the recruits shouted.
At that moment, a silent agreement formed between the recruits standing below and their former instructor Zefa. The shared thought: You think you're so tough? Let's see how you handle all of us at once!
Feeling the hostile stares from all around, Loya grumbled inwardly: I don't even know where to begin with how unfair this is! Are you sure this isn't just payback? All I did was let Aldo take two boxes of your cigars… was that really so unforgivable?
---
Later that night, Loya was leaning against the outer wall of his igloo, a bonfire crackling in front of him.
Puff!
A drop of grease splattered onto the firewood, causing a tiny spark to leap up. Loya got to his feet, carefully turning the skewer of an unidentifiable sea fish roasting over the flames. He sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper on it and inhaled the delicious aroma. "Perfectly cooked!"
Even though there was plenty of food on the warship, the recruits were undergoing a real combat assessment, and survival skills were part of the test. That meant figuring out how to secure food and shelter. After all, the three-day assessment only came with one day's worth of dry rations.
The moon cast a gentle glow over the sea, its light swaying with the waves. The sea breeze brushed Loya's face, carrying away the exhaustion of the day. All around the beach and in the woods, recruits gathered in small groups, tending to their own campfires and preparing dinner.
Loya's igloo had drawn quite a bit of attention. On this desolate island where the cold wind howled, having an ice shelter to shield against the chill would have been a huge relief. But remembering what Loya had done earlier in the day left everyone bitter, and no one was willing to approach him.
Loya was perfectly fine with that. He didn't have enough food to share with everyone, anyway. The large bear he had frozen outside the igloo was meant to be his personal midnight snack!
Just as Loya was about to savor his grilled fish, a tall figure appeared outside the igloo. Without a greeting, Kuzan nonchalantly inserted his hand into the ice wall, slicing through it as effortlessly as a hot knife through butter. He casually tossed the large chunk of ice into the sea, then fixed Loya with a deadpan stare. "What? Surprised to see me?"
"Not really," Loya replied, shaking his head. "But I am a little sad. Who just starts demolishing someone's house without saying hello? Teacher Kuzan, were you in demolition work before this?"
Kuzan: "..."
The tempting aroma from the grilled fish wafted over, and Loya pulled out a skewer, offering it to Kuzan. "Here, try it! My secret recipe!"
Anyone else would have taken the food without question, but Kuzan hesitated, suspicious. "You… didn't lace it with laxatives, did you?"
Loya scowled and snatched the fish back, devouring it angrily until only the bones remained. "Forget it! Be honest, Teacher Kuzan—do I seem like the type of person to pull off something that underhanded?"
Kuzan raised an eyebrow. "I can't say for sure. Last time, you spiked the water supply with laxatives, and the recruits had stomachaches all day. And your excuse? The laxatives in the infirmary were about to expire, so you didn't want them to go to waste."
Loya: "..."
People who don't know how to hold a proper conversation should just stay quiet.
---
After finishing the fish, Loya grabbed a piece of ice to quench his thirst. "So, Teacher Kuzan, did you need something?"
Kuzan leaned against the ice wall, gazing out at the sea with a somber expression. "No urgent matter," he said. "It's just… today I realized something. Teacher Zefa has really aged."
The rhythm of Loya's chewing slowed as Kuzan's words struck a chord. Memories of Zefa flooded his mind. Indeed, in this era, Zefa was an old man, weathered by tragedy and time.
From what Loya knew, Zefa's life was a tale of sorrow. He had idolized heroes in his youth, joined the Navy, and spent a lifetime fighting pirates. Yet he had never killed an enemy, earning him the title "the Admiral who doesn't kill." Despite his noble heart, he suffered a devastating loss: his wife and son were brutally murdered by pirates in retaliation. Heartbroken, he retired from active duty, taking up the role of chief instructor for recruits, persuaded to stay by Fleet Admiral Sengoku.
But that wasn't the end of his suffering. More than twenty years later, disaster struck again. His trainee ship was attacked by Edward Weevil, and only two students survived. Zefa lost his right arm in the battle, and many of his beloved students perished before his eyes. That experience drove him to the brink, and his grief ultimately transformed him. When he later had a mechanical shredder fitted in place of his missing arm, his path toward revenge became clear.
Loya didn't know how Zefa managed to endure so much pain. Perhaps only his hatred kept him going. But one thing was certain: the kind-hearted man Zefa used to be was long gone, replaced by someone hardened and forever changed by tragedy.