Chapter 36

Chapter 36
Meanwhile, over at the academy.

“So a bunch of fools actually managed to lose an eight-against-one fight to a tiny kid?”

Hearing that taunting remark echo from somewhere nearby, the seven cadets who had previously taken part in the combat simulation against Haydam firmly closed their eyes, as though the words themselves caused physical pain. Ever since Haydam had thoroughly dismantled them in that trial, those eight participants had faced daily mockery from the general student body. Because Major General Meursault had instructed them to keep all details of the exercise strictly confidential, none of them could explain the circumstances of their defeat, and that enforced silence only amplified the derision.

“Is that supposed to be our next top graduate? Must have just coasted along on his family’s reputation the whole time.”

Platon endured his share of the insults as well, yet he maintained his usual composed and slightly intense demeanor day after day.

“Senior Platon would never lose. The other seven must have simply held him back!”

Since the students who admired Platon redirected all the blame onto the remaining seven, those individuals bore an even heavier burden of suffering. Even if they considered arguing that Haydam had relied on unfair tactics, they worried everyone would merely dismiss it as the whining of people who had been beaten by a child. On the other hand, the cadets who recognized Haydam’s actual talent stayed silent for a similar reason, knowing any compliments would be viewed as a loser trying to exaggerate the victor’s strength. Just for losing to a small child, they were ridiculed across the entire campus, making their lives thoroughly miserable.

Then, an even more shocking announcement dropped on them like a final sentence.

“…And therefore, until Lord Haydam participates in the upcoming subjugation mission, he will be completing his training right here at the academy alongside all of you.”

As the principal concluded his statement, Haydam—positioned on the elevated platform beside him—cast a gentle smile toward the group of seven. Those seven cadets let out silent screams of terror inside their minds.

Outwardly, Haydam looked entirely like a sweet, innocent young child. Once the rest of the student body saw him in person, the mockery directed at the original group would only grow harsher. And it wasn’t as though Lord Haydam was going to protect them, either. Haydam held zero interest in their plight; following the simulation, he had simply taken what he wanted and walked away without looking back. The single silver lining was that Haydam’s proficiency was real, meaning before long, every student at the academy would stop viewing a loss to him as an embarrassment. Whether it was genuinely comforting that the academy’s trainees were inferior to a mere ten-year-old, however, remained open to debate.

The principal resumed speaking.

“Technically, this functions more as a temporary transfer than an official enrollment, but seeing as he achieved total victory in our latest tactical exercise, I am convinced his credentials are more than adequate. I assume no one has any objections?”

Right then, one of the cadets raised his hand. The group of seven watched the corners of Haydam’s mouth twitch into a subtle grin and quietly sent their mental condolences to the brave volunteer.

“Do you take issue with Lord Haydam’s transfer?”

The cadet who put up his hand shook his head in response to the principal’s inquiry and then spoke carefully.

“No, sir. I believe Lord Haydam’s qualifications are more than sufficient.”

“Then what is it?”

“There is a statement I would like to direct to Lord Haydam right now.”

He shifted his gaze toward Haydam, who looked mildly amused.

“To me?”

“Yes. There is a specific misconception I want to ensure you avoid.”

“A misconception? What kind of misconception are you referring to?”

“Lord Haydam. The eight cadets who fell to you may well be fools. But please understand this: not all of us are cut from the same cloth.”

The surrounding cadets stared directly at Lucas as if nodding in complete agreement. Right in front of the entire assembly and under Haydam’s watchful eye, the original seven hung their heads in disgrace. Whether it counted as public humiliation or not, it remained a hard truth that eight graduating military academy cadets had been beaten by a single ten-year-old.

Haydam’s response, however, took everyone by surprise. After observing the speaker for a brief moment, he asked in a quiet tone,

“Let me ask you something, then… do all of you genuinely believe that if you were in their shoes, you could beat me?”

“Pardon?”

The unexpected inquiry seemed to catch the cadet off guard, yet he quickly regained his composure and replied with unwavering certainty.

“Without a doubt.”

“Without a doubt?”

“I am not saying this to disrespect Lord Haydam. Any student who concedes defeat before even trying has no business being in this academy.”

“I see.”

Haydam seemed to weigh his options for a second before scanning the gathered crowd.

“My father accepted my capabilities after just a single trial, but it appears the rest of you require an extra test. Anyone who believes I triumphed purely by chance would never make a dependable ally, so I intend to resolve this matter definitively right here and now.”

“Resolve what, exactly?”

“I will run a fresh training simulation—not against a team of my choosing, but against eight champions selected by all of you.”

A wave of whispers swept through the rows. The concept had already been floating around among the students ever since the initial exercise: pick a new roster of representatives and demand a rematch to restore their collective honor. Even so, proposing that a ten-year-old child face a second bout against full-grown cadets had felt a bit too awkward to bring up first. Now that Haydam had volunteered it himself, they felt almost thankful.

“We appreciate the offer. Making a choice like that could not have been easy, and we respect your determination, Lord Haydam. But surely… you aren’t suggesting another one-versus-eight?”

Haydam let out a brief chuckle.

“So a one-versus-eight match is off the table this time?”

“Obviously! Facing you is an achievement in itself, but winning an eight-on-one won’t do anything for our pride. Lord Haydam plus the original eight losers—making nine in total—will face eight chosen champions from the rest of us. Only then will it constitute a fair match.”

“Your side fields eight, while mine fields nine?”

“Lord Haydam hasn’t formally registered as an academy cadet yet.”

The hint of friendly warmth in Haydam’s eyes vanished instantly. He maintained his polite demeanor, yet his voice dropped to a noticeably colder temperature.

“Let’s stick to a clean eight-versus-eight format. Otherwise, I’m certain you’ll complain later that I didn’t pull my own weight.”

This sudden twist left the original seven cadets spinning. What? We never agreed to this… Another combat simulation? And we are expected to team up with Lord Haydam? All seven shared the exact same realization at once: if we win this round, the humiliation finally stops! Their expressions lit up at the prospect that their status as campus pariahs might soon vanish, though a few still looked grim. Because if they lost again…

They had already fallen to Haydam once. A lingering suspicion had started to form that the initial defeat might genuinely stem from their own inadequacy, causing some to wonder if they really had dragged down Platon. Their self-worth was hitting rock bottom.

Then Haydam spoke up once more. Hearing the addition of an extra rule, the standard cadets’ expressions seemed to say, *I knew it.* There had to be a reason Lord Haydam insisted on an eight-person structure. Those fools probably grew careless because they believed numbers guaranteed victory—that’s why they lost. With even numbers, things would be different. They wouldn’t drop their guard for a single second. The fact that he was imposing a condition now proved it.

In person, Haydam carried a level of poise that made it hard to remember he was only ten years old. Still, a child was a child. None of them could truly visualize losing to the polite young boy standing before them, so they were fully prepared to accept whatever extra rule he introduced.

However, the words that left Haydam’s mouth completely shattered their expectations.

“The winning condition for my side will be that not a single person dies.”

“Excuse me?”

The cadets stared blankly at the newly introduced stipulation.

“So… you’re saying it only counts as our victory if none of us perish?”

“Actually, the exact opposite.”

Haydam tilted his head.

“The second even one member of my team is eliminated, you win. Whether you have only one person left standing or manage to capture the flag first—either way, you take the victory.”

The original seven nearly choked on their breath. We never agreed to that condition, Lord Haydam?! The remaining students looked equally bewildered. The extra rule he just introduced… is actually a disadvantage to his own team? They couldn’t help pressing the issue.

“Are you looking down on us? Or are you purposely setting an impossible rule so you have an excuse ready when you lose?”

“Neither. Why would you assume I’m already planning for a loss…?”

Haydam looked at the cadet who had first addressed him and stated softly,

“I am not looking down on any of you. It’s simply that… any cadet who assumes defeat without even trying has no business being in this academy. Isn’t that correct, Cadet Lucas?”

Lucas jumped, startled not only that Haydam knew his name, but even more by the intense authority radiating from the young boy. It wasn’t the kind of presence a typical child possessed; it felt like a company commander stepping in to whip raw recruits into shape.

While Lucas remained dazed, another cadet stepped forward with a response that served as both acceptance and a challenge.

“Very well. We plan on wiping out Lord Haydam’s squad entirely anyway.”

The others nodded in agreement. Haydam flashed a bright smile and replied in a smooth, concise tone.

“If you can.”

—

“Lord Haydam is organizing another training simulation!”

The moment Meursault learned from the academy principal that Haydam intended to hold an eight-versus-eight exercise against the student body, he sprinted straight to the Commander to deliver the report. It was an urgent matter—yet the Commander merely responded with the detachment of someone who had anticipated it all along.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“A big deal? You have to put a stop to this!”

Meursault pressed on urgently.

“Lord Haydam sustained a gunshot wound just a few days ago! Even if the injury was minor… a combat simulation isn’t something you run twice back-to-back as if it were a light workout.”

“We can hardly go around broadcasting the fact that Haydam was shot outside the Safe Zone, Meursault.”

A strict gag order had been slapped onto the shooting incident. Word that a prominent warlord’s heir had been hurt beyond the Safe Zone could easily spiral into a massive crisis. The academy cadets had agreed to Haydam’s proposal without knowing any of that background. The Commander spoke with his customary tranquil expression.

“Since we cannot bring up his injury… blocking the simulation now would only raise suspicions.”

“The ones who lost to him are going to be on his team! Some of them are still holding a grudge—what if they intentionally throw the match?”

“It doesn’t matter. I believe I understand what Haydam has in mind.”

“You actually understand that labyrinth of a mind?”

“Yes.”

The Commander gazed out the window toward the academy grounds.

“He knows how to rise above everyone else…”