Chapter 58: Chapter 58
It turned out Walter’s invitation was for training.
He usually trained alone and only joined squad drills when required, so when he asked me to spar with him during personal hours, I was genuinely surprised.
Training with him was brutal.
He reminded me of Private Varik, our second training instructor during my early months at Stonegate, only meaner. Which was surprising; I didn’t think there could be anyone meaner than Varik.
Most of our sessions were hand-to-hand or with spear and shield, and he never went easy. My ribs, arms, and shoulders were covered in bruises more often than not. Somehow, he had already figured out the limits of my [Minor Restoration (C)] skill. He seemed to adjust the intensity based on my schedule; if I had night patrol or fort duty, he went easier. On my days off, he hit twice as hard, leaving me half crippled for the next few days. Even with constant use of [Minor Restoration (C)], it still took four or five sessions to fully heal.
Walter was the same as always. Even during training, he hardly spoke. He only corrected my form or grunted in approval when I did something right. Occasionally, he’d give brief instructions on technique or mana control, but any question outside the lesson was met with a curt, “Focus on training.”
Every session ended the same way, with him naming the next meeting time and walking off without another word.
It wasn’t like he could command me to train; technically, I could have refused.
Because, despite everything, he was effective.
After the first week, I could already feel the difference. Even though [Defensive Spearplay (C)] had reached its limit, my movements became smoother. My coordination improved. I learned to balance attack and defense instinctively, conserving mana and stamina at the same time. My strikes landed with more weight, my guard shifts were cleaner, and I could last longer before exhaustion set in.
But the most surprising thing of all was how he taught me to use [Hand-to-Hand Combat (C)].
It had been one of my least-used skills so far. After coming to the fort, I regretted picking it. I’d only chosen it because training at Stonegate had emphasized it. But once I arrived here, there was no real use for it, not even in drills. Against beasts, there was rarely a chance to use unarmed combat, unless you were desperate.
Walter’s training changed that. He seemed genuinely pleased that I’d chosen the skill.
He forced me to use my body in ways that made me realize what the instructors meant all along. The skill wasn’t just about fists or grappling; it was about how to move, how to channel force through the body, and most importantly, how to connect mana with motion.
One morning, between drills, I finally asked him the question that had been on my mind.
“Hey, Walter. I know you said [Hand-to-Hand Combat (C)] helps with channeling mana into the body, but I still don’t get how. I can’t afford to spend too much time on unarmed training with everything else going on.”
He grunted, a good sign.
That grunt usually meant it was a fair question, one worth answering.
“Don’t judge a skill by its name,” he said at last. “Use it. [Hand-to-Hand Combat (C)] isn’t just about fighting barehanded; it teaches you how to channel power through your limbs while maintaining balance. Use it with your marching skill, or your spear skill. Tie every movement together. When you’re in unarmed combat, your whole body, from head to toe, is involved. [Hand-to-Hand Combat (C)] trains that control. It’s the foundation for [Mana Reinforcement (UC)], one of the core skills for elite fighters with low elemental affinity.”
I froze. I’d already learned to merge [Guard Duty (C)] with [Mana Sensitivity (C)], but I’d never thought about connecting other skills together, or using them outside their specific contexts.
It sounded so obvious now that he said it.
I’d have to completely rethink my approach to training.
Between Walter’s beatings, night patrols, and my own reports, life settled into a rhythm of exhaustion.
Then one evening, after another grueling session, I joined Walter for a drink.
It wasn’t unusual for him, he drank almost every night, but it was the first time he’d allowed me to join him.
We sat near the fort’s wall, our mugs catching the faint glow of the watchfires. The air smelled faintly of smoke and metal. Walter drank in silence, eyes distant, his scarred knuckles resting on the table. After a while, when he seemed drunk enough to let his guard down, I decided to ask the question that had been gnawing at me since the day he started training me.
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“Hey, Walter,” I said quietly, “why did you decide to train me?”
For a few seconds, he just looked at me, expression unreadable.
Then he glanced up at the night sky and sighed.
“You remind me of an intelligence kid from my squad,” he said.
I immediately regretted asking. His tone wasn’t angry, but hollow.
For the first time since I’d met him, he looked vulnerable.
Usually, he was distant, detached, the kind of man who didn’t flinch at anything.
But now, his eyes seemed to look past me, toward something long gone.
“He was always curious,” Walter continued quietly. “Always asking questions. Always trying to figure out everything. Kid, you’ve got that same spark. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, but I want you to survive this grand tide.”
The word kid surprised me, it was the first time he’d ever called me that.
“But why me?” I asked after a moment. “Why not include Michael too?”
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.
“You don’t see your own potential yet. The sergeant wanted you for his house from the first day you got here. Michael’s been chasing noble patrons since the day he arrived, trying to get one to sign him. But you…” He paused, studying me through half-lidded eyes. “You’ve got fire. You want to build something on your own.”
He fell silent again, the wind carrying the distant hum of the fort’s night patrols.
After a long pause, he continued, voice low and rough.
“Let me tell you something you might not have figured out yet. For people at Tier 4 and above, the rest of us are just pawns. At that level, they can live for more than two centuries; it’s hard for them to care about short-lived soldiers. When the Captain said, ‘I will not let my name be tarnished by incompetence or failure,’ he meant it. His life is worth more to the Kingdom than all of ours combined. He’s a precious resource to the Kingdom. Even if this fort falls, the Kingdom won’t let him die here. The only thing he’ll truly lose is his name. But for the rest of us, fall of the fort means death.”
He drained the last of his drink, stood up slowly, and patted my shoulder.
“I just want you to live through this beast tide. And when you become a sergeant, remember this conversation. Lead with your head, but value your squad’s lives like you did on that expedition.”
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the Longhall.
I stayed where I was, staring at the stars scattered over the black sky.
I didn’t know what to think, pity, respect, or fear, but I knew one thing for certain: I’d take his training more seriously from now on.
And I’d survive this grand tide.
From the next day onward, between drills and reports, I did what any intelligence private would do: I started gathering information.
If Walter wouldn’t talk about his past, I’d find out myself.
It wasn’t hard once I knew where to look.
Intelligence privates were notorious for gossip; they loved trading stories over ale and boredom. With the hints Walter had given me, the pieces came together faster than I expected. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel✶fire.net
Walter Graves, once Sergeant Walter Graves, had led one of the best squads in the infantry division five years ago. By every account, they were disciplined, reliable, and effective. Many thought he’d be transferred to the Vanguard division as a sergeant. Then, during one outer-expedition patrol, a critical intelligence error occurred, a misinterpretation of beast movements in a lieutenant’s report. The squad walked straight into a large herd of Tier 2s.
Walter was the only survivor.
The scandal shook the fort. The lieutenant, being part of a noble house, was quietly transferred to another posting far away.
Walter refused to lead again. He turned down every promotion and refused to retire, bound by a contract with a noble house. He swore never to serve a noble and chose to remain as a regular soldier instead.
Since then, command had kept him assigned to squads with poor records, part punishment, part precaution. His presence reduced casualties.
He had joined Sergeant Fenward’s squad only three months before I arrived.
Learning that, I couldn’t shake a bad feeling about Walter. It felt like he was still trying to atone for losing his old squad, throwing himself into protecting every private under his command. And after the announcement of the Grand Beast Tide, it looked like the burden had only gotten heavier.
I never told him what I’d learned, and he never brought up that night again.
We kept training as usual, hard, silent, relentless.
In fifteen days, I’d made a lot of progress.
Junior Officer (Cadet) – Level 14 (400 / 1400 EXP)
+1000 XP – Guarding against a Threat
+475 XP – Expedition in the wilderness
+300XP – Intelligence report
+200XP – Training Fellow Soldier
Mana Cultivation: Tier 1– 20.5 → 50
Initiate Class: [Junior Officer (Cadet)] – Level 14 (400/1400 EXP)
Elemental Affinity: 0.1% Wind
Mana Cultivation: Tier 1 (50/100)
I’d gained two levels since returning to the fort, one right after the Venelion fight and another during the march back and daily drills over the last fifteen days.
What surprised me most, though, was the 0.7 increase in Willpower from training with Walter. It was the first stat I’d ever gained through physical exercise since receiving my class.
Who knew there were hidden benefits to Walter’s torture?