Chapter 210: Iâm Really a Pacifist. (3)
Despite Asconâs pleas, Ghislainâs fists didnât stop. Gradually, Asconâs consciousness began to blur.
âWhy am I getting beaten up here?â
The boundary between dreams and reality started to crumble, and even the pain began to fade.
He welcomed this phenomenon with relief.
âAh, this is great. It doesnât hurt anymore. Thatâs how it should be. No matter how good someone is at beating people, if youâve been hit this much, youâre supposed to faint. Hah, in the end, I won. I won!â
Before his dimming vision, a handsome, middle-aged elf appeared.
âGrandfather!â
It was the grandfather heâd only seen in portraits as a child. Hadnât he passed away about a hundred years ago?
âI mustâve inherited my good looks from Grandfather. Heh heh.â
The elf before him smiled kindly and gestured for him to come closer.
âAh, Iâm coming, Grandfather.â
Asconâs consciousness began to drift toward him. He felt that if he could just grab his grandfatherâs hand, all would be well.
Suddenly, a colossal blue tree that seemed to engulf the entire world appeared behind his grandfather.
âFinally, itâs time for me to become one with the World Tree.â
With joy in his heart, Ascon approached his grandfather. Soon, his soul would rest in the embrace of the World Tree, revered by elves.
But then, the world suddenly turned crimson and began to tear apart.
Startled, Ascon heard a voice whisper in his ear.
âStay conscious, will you? Where do you think youâre going?â
Flash!
âUwaaaaah! Grandfather!â
Ascon jolted awake, the sensation like his very soul being yanked out. His grandfather, the World Treeâeverything had disappeared.
What remained was the harsh reality of being beaten senseless.
Heâd been sure he would faint, yet his senses had become sharper instead!
There was no escape from this. He couldnât die, couldnât lose consciousnessâonly the relentless pain remained.
At this point, it seemed wiser to live quietly than to fight.
Overcome by a sudden will to survive, even Ascon himself was surprised as he stammered out, âP-please spare me... you crazy Lord...â
Yet Ghislainâs fists still didnât stop.
When Asconâs endless screams finally quieted, and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Ghislainâs punches came to a halt.
âOh, itâs already this late? I got so absorbed in the sensation that I lost track of time. Elves really do... no, I mean humans.â
Ascon collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. He couldnât understand why he hadnât fainted.
Not dying, not fainting, just enduring endless painâthis was the worst punishment imaginable for a long-lived elf.
âIâll be the representative, Iâll work with the soldiers, Iâll cooperate... so why couldnât we just talk... hic.â
âHm, I got a bit too focused on testing a new therapy and forgot to stop. My apologies.â
The elves grimaced at those words, their expressions filled with exasperation. The fact that they had accidentally overstepped all day long? They could almost tolerate that. But admitting to conducting experiments on human bodies? That was another level entirely.
Many of the elves had previous experiences of defying nobles and living relatively freely for a time. It was precisely because the nobles couldnât handle them that they had been sold off.
Initially, they had thought they could carry on in the same way here, but their thoughts were starting to change.
I better not mess with that bastard. Heâs truly insane.
A tension began to settle over the elves, who had previously been lax and carefree.
As things finally seemed to fall into order, Ghislain turned to Ascon and asked.
âStarting today, youâre human, right? A fresh start for you, isnât it?â
Ascon hesitated for a moment before closing his eyes tightly and replying.
âYes, Iâm just a human with pointy ears now. Honestly, Iâd cut them off if I could.â
He had abandoned even his racial identity. Survival required it. If the human in front of him demanded he change species, then heâd simply have to do so.
âAnd youâve dealt with that anger management problem, havenât you? Thatâs not good for you, so itâs something you absolutely need to fix.â
At that question, Ascon replied firmly.
âYes, as of today, Iâm a master of anger management. Thereâs no need for further treatment.â
Under Ghislainâs guidance, Ascon had not only cured his illness but also redefined himself as a new individual.
That included gaining the ability to fully control his rage.
* * *
With the elves finally disciplined, Ghislain fell into a brief contemplation.
Creating a new type of unit not previously present in the estate would take time. However, putting the elves through rigorous training right away would be impossible due to their abysmal physical condition.
Such a being, if real, would be truly terrifying. How would one fight against such an opponent?
It felt as if Ghislain was on the verge of discovering something newâa strategy, a realization.
Ghislain had always harbored a love for combat and a strong competitive streak. If he ever found himself helplessly defeated by an invisible foe, heâd be utterly furious. That was something he absolutely couldnât accept.
As he conjured up a hypothetical opponent in his mind to simulate a battle, Ghislain shook his head. A wave of self-reproach washed over him.
What am I even doing? Whatâs with this nonsense about an invisible sword master? Something like this doesnât even exist!
Though he felt it was better to stop wasting time, he couldnât fully let go of the idea.
There was an itch in the back of his mind, as if a valuable insight was just within reach. If he pursued it a little more, he might unlock something profound.
In the end, Ghislain decided to be honest with himself.
Hmm, Iâll read this novel later when I have some time and use it for some virtual training. Who knows, I might discover a new method of mana utilization. This could be fun.
Having found a potential source of entertainment, Ghislain tucked the book away and spoke.
âFor now, Iâm giving you a new assignment.â
âHuh? What assignment? Iâm busy training and writing... If I skip even one day, Iâll experience âliterary lossâ...â
âTraining instructor for the elvesâ physical conditioning. If you donât want to do it, Iâll assign someone else.â
âHuh? No! Iâll do it! Absolutely!â
Gordon immediately broke into a wide grin, rubbing his hands together eagerly.
I had become a knight, but I didnât hold any specific position within the estate.
Taking on a role like this would allow me to stand taller, boast a little, and enjoy some perks. Moreover, knowing the lordâs personality, taking on additional responsibilities would likely lead to a higher payout.
Honestly, I couldnât count the number of times Iâd envied Gillian as I watched him drill the knights.
âIf it were me, Iâd run them harder than that old geezer!â
Gordon, with such ambitions in mind, wasnât about to miss this opportunity.
âBut these elves... donât they use spirits and stuff? Can we even push them hard in physical training?â
âSpirits? What spirits...? They donât know how to do anything. Make sure to work on them thoroughly.â
It was natural for Gordon to immediately associate elves with spirits; after all, elves were renowned for their high affinity with them. However, the elves who had arrived here were so steeped in alcohol and tobacco that they likely hadnât laid eyes on nature in ages. If theyâd once had the ability, theyâd lost it long ago.
Ghislain raised a fist as a warning to Gordon.
âIf you slack off and get mesmerized by their pretty faces, you know whatâll happen, right? Youâll be the one thrown into special training.â
âYes, sir! Donât worry about me!â Gordon shouted, brimming with confidence, even snorting for emphasis.
Soon, the elves gathered in the training grounds. It was Gordonâs first time instructing anyone, and he couldnât hide his excitement as he shouted.
âFrom now on, Iâm your training instructor, Gordon! Iâm the second strongest man in this estate, right after the lord! Trust me and follow my lead!â
The elves wore expressions of pure misery. Theyâd lived their lives indulging in laziness and had no desire for physical training.
Ascon, the one who should have voiced objections on their behalf, appeared completely drained, his face blank and expressionless.
Oblivious to the atmosphere, Gordon immediately began the training.
âFrom now on, just follow everything I do! Got it? No response? Answer me!â
âYes...â
âWhatâs that supposed to be? Say it louder! Always louder! Like thisâAahh! Aahh!â
âAahh!â
âGood! Thatâs the kind of spirit I want to hear!â
Gordon was ecstatic. The fact that someone was following his orders gave him a tremendous sense of satisfaction.
âAlright! Since todayâs the first day, letâs take it easy. Just 100 push-ups! Watch me and copy my form! One! Two! Three! Four! What are you doing? Hurry up and follow me!â
True to his simple-minded nature, he didnât consider the othersâ capabilities and focused entirely on showing off.
The elves awkwardly mimicked Gordonâs movements.
âOne...â
âTwo...â
âThree... I canât do this anymore!â
Most of the elves collapsed before completing even ten push-ups. Their slender physiques werenât built for such strenuous exercises.
Gordon grew increasingly frustrated.
âWhat the hell! How can you not even manage 100 push-ups? Damn it! Useless bunch! Get up! Fine, then weâll start with running! Letâs do 100 laps!â
Forcing the elves to their feet, he started running with them. However, by the second lap, the elves began dropping like flies.
âYou worthless idiots! Gillian pushes us way harder than this! Take a short break, and then weâll do it again!â
Panicked and impatient, Gordon kept yelling without giving them proper rest.
This was his first real assignment. He thought he was finally being recognized, but now he worried he might fail and lose everything.
The elves felt the same despair. The thought of continuing this ridiculous training was enough to drive them mad. On top of that, this guy seemed to think the number 100 was the only one that existed.
This couldnât go on. They needed a solution.
The elves, slumped on the ground, exchanged subtle glances before starting to offer Gordon some gentle temptations.