Chapter 466: Exhausted |
"I can’t do this anymore," muttered a cadet as he collapsed onto the ground. Since he had been in the middle of jogging, just like all the others who were carrying the massive log abovehead, his sudden fall disrupted all the others.
The cadets behind him tried to move out of the way, so as to not step on him, but they were tired and exhausted as well. That, combined with their disorganised attempt to save the cadet, caused them all to either stumble or fall. The massive log dropped, though miraculously it did not injure any of them.
Nero looked at the scene with exhausted eyes, and just kept moving. Three days. For three continuous days, they all had been marching and jogging, carrying the logs overhead. They had attended no classes, or participated in any other drills. All they had done was march, with weights, while carrying logs.
This was not the first group to collapse, and it wouldn’t be the last either. Nero, too, was exhausted despite his superior physical condition. That is because the added weights on his body put him under much greater strain than everyone else.
By now, they had all reached a level of physical and mental fatigue where they had no room for any unnecessary thoughts or actions. Even Nero could not do more than just focus on the weight of the log abovehead, and forcing his exhausted body to keep moving.
He tried to still focus on some important things, such as the condition of those carrying the logs with him. Every day their partners had changed, which made it really hard to build any kind of coordination - especially when everyone was so exhausted.
He tried to focus on the time of day, and judge how many hours it had been, but his brain seemed to not be cooperating. All he knew, all he could focus on was keeping his hands above his head, despite the burning pain in his limbs, and putting one step in front of another.
No matter how strong or resilient he was, he could not just ignore the constraints and limitations of his body. He was reaching the end of his rope, sheer will the only thing that actually kept him going.
At some point, the weight above his hands disappeared, but he did not notice. He kept marching for a few minutes before he realised something was wrong. He looked around, and saw that his teammates had fallen, and the log had rolled out of his hands.
Nero kept looking at his teammates, and then at the log. He was too exhausted to think about what this meant, or what he needed to do now, so he just stood there until he was taken away.
At some point, Nero ended up on his back on a comfortable bed, and he saw Dr. Iris’ face. She tapped and poked his body, as she usually did, and Nero finally closed his eyes.
When Nero opened his eyes again, he found himself in an entirely unfamiliar area. For a few seconds his brain had not caught up to the fact that he had woken up, so he just lay there, unsure of what was happening. Then his memories returned - it seemed he, or his teammates at least, had collapsed.
Nero looked around the room and judged that he was in a clinic or something. The dim lighting seemed to insinuate that it was night, which would also explain why there was no one else around.
Nero spotted a wrapped meal near his bed, and quickly devoured it before closing his eyes once more and going back to sleep. He had no idea if he was going to be asked to carry the log again, so he needed to recover as much strength as possible.
This was, by far, the worst punishment he’d received since arriving in KMA, and it had been absolutely brutal. Even now, he could feel his arms burning from the strain they had endured.
It took almost no time at all for Nero to fall back asleep once more, this time waking up from the sound of an opening door.
"Well, look at you, causing a big ruckus as soon as your training was supposed to begin," said Isabella as she walked into the room, looking at Nero. Due to her youthful appearance as well as body, she appeared quite short as she stood by his bed, but that did not diminish her presence whatsoever.
"It was not really up to me," Nero said as he picked himself up, his entire body still sore and aching. Moreover, he was starving, as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.
"Young man, the army does not accept excuses, only results," she said, suddenly turning around and heading towards the door. "Follow me. You do not have time to waste, your training is beginning immediately."
Nero did not argue, even though he was not in the best of states. What she had said was actually quite true. The situation was kind of unfair, since he was the one being hazed. However, fairness, to begin with, was a human concept. It did not exist in reality. It did not exist when facing enemies. Thus, it did not exist in the army either.
Nero followed her, still in his patient’s robe, and found that he noticed a lot of familiar faces. Almost all the cadets who had been carrying logs were now recuperating here.
"Your first class is a somewhat advanced one. Technically you should not be taking this until your second year, but that’s just how things worked out. It’s called Psychology of Survival, and it is taught by a very prestigious professor. After that, you will have all your regular classes, and then at night your usual drills will be replaced by advanced Card Crafting lessons. Once your body has fully recovered, we will integrate your new drills into your routine as well."
Nero nodded, taking everything in his stride. Isabella was watching him, looking for any signs of reluctance or struggle. It would be entirely expected for Nero to still be tired, or want to take a break after everything he had been through, yet she sensed none of that.
Instead, he looked somewhat eager, almost, for his classes. She did not comment on it, though. That was not her role.
She led Nero to a small office where a thin, lean man with a peculiarly thin moustache. Unlike the rest of the academy staff, he was not dressed in a uniform. Instead, he was wearing a stylish dark blue, double breasted coat with a brought yellow pocket square.
The man looked like he had been waiting for Nero, and studied the cadet as soon as he came inside.
"I am Professor Vesier," the man said, with a distinct accent Nero had never heard before. "I am going to be your professor for this class, and assuming you manage to survive training, for many more classes as well. We are going to begin class with a question. Do you know why we are having this class right now?"
Nero could not understand what the reasoning behind that question was, not to mention he was distracted by his hunger. However, he gave a basic answer anyway - he could tell that he was meant to get this question wrong regardless of anything else.
"Likely because this is the best schedule that Professor Isabella was able to make due to our time constraints," he said, already expecting the head shake that he got.
Professor Vesier looked towards Isabella, who only nodded to him before leaving. Only after she had left did the professor speak.
"It’s because practical application is the best way for you to immediately grasp some seemingly complex concepts about survival. Right now, after three days of intense physical training, you are mentally, emotionally and physically in survival mode," the professor said. "Your brain will detect threats much more quickly yet irrationally in this time, and that is what we call anxiety. Anxiety, uncontrolled, can become a sickness. But it is also one of the greatest, inherent survival tools we humans have. But it is only one of the tools we humans have.
"The second tool is bonding. Survival becomes much harder alone, but when you’re together with someone who has been through the same pain, same obstacles as you, it makes it much easier for the brain to carry on. That is why so many of the army training exercises are in groups. Yet that is only..."
Professor Visier jumped straight into the lesson, not wasting a single moment. Throughout the process, he also kept studying Nero, searching for signs of dispersing attention, yet that never happened. Much to his surprise, Nero listened and learned eagerly.
That was good, because he did not want to waste time on an unworthy student.
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