[346] Divine Transcendence (3)
The cadets looked at her with envy.
"Tess. I've noticed for a while—you really have a nice body. Do you do any special workouts?"
"Workout? Don't be ridiculous. I can barely keep up with training. It's not even that great. If we get into close combat like today it just gets in the way."
A classmate gave a sympathetic, teasing smile.
"You'll meet all sorts. Guys who try to touch you slyly. If one of them tried that with me, I'd snap his waist in two."
Another chimed in.
"It's a handicap, for sure. You're up against guys who eat ten meat meals a day—total muscle monsters. Strength-wise, you're outmatched."
Tess, in a tank top while changing into her training clothes, answered.
"There are events that favor women, too. Anyway, it's the final evaluation, so let's do our best."
"Right. When we get leave I'm just going to sleep. Maybe trim down a bit. This year I'm definitely getting a boyfriend."
The cadet who'd changed asked lightly as she warmed up.
"Speaking of which, how are you and Rian doing? Any progress? That boy really is oblivious."
Tess bent her knee back and pulled her sole to her hip, laughing.
"Haha! I'm fine. Rian's got big dreams. If my boyfriend becomes successful, that only works out well for me."
"Oh, come on. Try flirting a little. A pretty girl like you giving him attention—he should be on his knees in gratitude."
"Really, I'm fine. He's not going anywhere."
She laughed it off for her friends, but inside she felt uneasy. Lately Rian had been far quieter than before. He obviously had worries, but he wouldn't talk about them.
'What on earth is going on? Even with me?'
She decided to wait. Tomorrow was leave; even if it was serious, she could ask him then.
When they left the changing room, cadets were already moving down the corridor toward the training field. A man slipped out of the crowd and approached Tess. She immediately showed her displeasure, but he, used to that reaction, smiled at her with a tender look.
"Hey, Tess. Fancy seeing you here."
"We're in the same building, so of course. Someone overhearing might think we ran into each other in hell."
The man's name was Bawior. From a first‑rank family, his father was the current deputy minister of defense in Tormia.
He'd known Tess since childhood—his father had been a longtime comrade of Tess's father, the colonial commander.
With a square jaw, blond hair, and deep eyes, he was undeniably attractive. His physique was well built and his swordsmanship excellent; rumors in high society said marriage offers were already lining up.
Bawior had put Tess at the top of his list. The Elazin family's standing was impressive, and her beauty and figure left nothing lacking for a match.
"Tess. How about dinner tonight? We trained hard for half a year, didn't we?"
"Sorry, I can't. I already have plans with Rian."
"Don't lie. Everyone knows that brat won't take you. Why's that? You can have dinner with an old friend."
"No. I don't want you, and I don't want Rian getting self‑conscious about you. So forget old ties—let's pretend we don't know each other."
Bawior sighed. He couldn't understand why the sharp, sensible Tess had fallen for Rian.
Rian's skill was unremarkable, and he had no obvious prospects. How could a swordsman who couldn't use skima become a commander?
"Tess. Think carefully. How long are you going to act like a child? You have dreams too. With me you can reach them. Rian will never make you happy."
Tess shut her mouth, clearly feeling his words weren't worth answering. Bawior felt an impenetrable wall in her gaze. Yet that only stoked his possessiveness.
"Tess. What are you doing? Come on."
Her cold expression brightened at once. She didn't even acknowledge Bawior and sprinted toward Rian standing at the end of the corridor.
'That bastard…!'
Bawior glowered at Rian, trembling with humiliation. But as always, Rian met it with an indifferent look, shrugged off the malice, and turned away.
Rian and Tess were quiet. Rian had grown more taciturn recently, and Tess worried he might be bothered by Bawior.
Only after they were outside did Rian speak.
"Did Bawior bother you again?"
Tess waved her hand quickly.
"No. What can he even do if he does? Don't tell me you're worried. I told him not to speak to me anymore."
"Don't worry. I'm not bothered."
Tess pouted. If Rian paid attention to Bawior that would be a problem, but his indifferent reply made her feel dismissed.
"Rian. Lately…"
"How strong do you think Shirone has gotten?"
Tess fell silent. What had she been expecting? From the start, there was no place for her in Rian's thoughts.
The reason Rian pushed himself through daily brutal training was to become a knight who could stand against Shirone, who was advancing at an alarming rate.
In the master‑knight relationship of the knight's oath, that was only natural.
Still, Shirone was a precious friend to her, and sometimes Tess forgot the boundary between them—which was the root of her problem.
She shook off her hurt and tapped Rian's shoulder.
"He must've gotten insanely strong. Shirone's a genius. But you've been doing your best too. If he saw you now, he'd faint."
Rian gave a wry smile. Every time he pushed himself, he felt more acutely Shirone's extraordinariness.
But now the answer to his long‑standing worry was coming into view. He would no longer be torn.
"Right. I'll surprise him properly."
They entered the training field; many cadets were already gathered. When today was over, the kingdom's aspiring knights would have their achievements stamped again on a single report.
Tess had ranked near the top in most evaluations and was firmly in the lead group.
Rian, by contrast, still hadn't escaped the bottom.
"Squad—attention!"
When Kuan entered the field, the cadets all stood. The nervousness of their first intake had vanished; each of them now radiated disciplined vigor.
"At ease. Today's evaluation is wrestling. You know the rules?"
"Yes!"
Their unified reply echoed.
Even the strict Kuan looked satisfied, but because this was the most unpleasant day of the year for him, his tone remained sharp.
"What are you doing? Take off your tops."
Buttons were undone as if in a race. The men revealed bare torsos and stood rigid in the cold, all eyes on Kuan.
No one dared turn their gaze toward the female cadets. As trainees aiming to be knights, such rudeness would be unforgivable—and anyone caught would face Kuan's wrath.
Kuan didn't impose restraints on the men examining each other's bodies, though. That was male aggression and raw instinct.
As the evaluation period approached, the number of cadets using the public baths dropped sharply. The body tells the truth; training leaves its marks.
Showing your body before competition is bad tactics. That's why the wrestling evaluation, which requires removing shirts, is held on the last day.
All eyes fell on Bawior's frame. Like plated armor, his massive muscles split into ridges; the trapezius muscles rising from his neck alone were intimidating.
"What a massive bulk‑up. How much did he put on in a month?"
"He's a human golem. If he grabs you, your bones won't last."
In swordsmanship, Tess—who excelled in blade technique—was first, but in raw physical ability, Bawior, who hoped for heavy infantry, had the edge. Especially in wrestling, he was confident—rumored to be able to snap a bear's neck with his bare hands.
"Oh…"
As exclamations rose, Bawior turned smugly. But the admiration wasn't for him—it was for Rian. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him.
Rian's body had developed without leaving out a single small muscle. It was astonishing that such variety of musculature fit under human skin. Everything felt perfectly concentrated, a hardened solidity like something pressed into a mold.
Even the physical male cadets were stunned; Tess couldn't help but stare in awe.
'Rian…'
Her expression softened into wistfulness. She knew how much pain Rian had endured to build that body.
After taking Imir's arm, Rian's right arm had become abnormally developed. The extra power was useful, but the imbalance was dangerous.
From then on, he forced himself through brutal training—swinging a club heavier than a greatsword three thousand times a day.
Biological feedback is astonishing: over time, his whole body developed to balance with that right arm.
That process produced Rian's current physique.
His perfected muscular balance made him four times stronger than half a year ago.
He might be the strongest person among those who couldn't use skima.
'He's tuned his body to the sword,' Kuan thought.
While the cadets admired Rian's looks, Kuan focused on function.
This body wasn't built for one‑dimensional goals like raw strength or endurance.
It was optimized for the motions of wielding a sword.
'But it's odd. I've seen trained bodies before, but this feels like something I've never seen.'
Kuan's unease was accurate.
Through abnormal feedback from the overdeveloped right arm, Rian's body had surpassed the limits of what an ordinary human could reach.
'We'll see soon enough. Among skima users, we'll find out what that body can do.'
Kuan set the thought aside and raised his voice.
"Everyone, pay attention. I'll give a brief explanation of today's evaluation."
The cadets snapped to attention. Bawior, who'd been glaring at Rian, turned his head.
"Wrestling is a core subject for the heavy infantry specialization. So we won't demand advanced techniques from you rookies. You'll pair up and spar; in close quarters, strikes are allowed. They're indistinguishable anyway. Because of weight differences, victory or defeat won't factor into the evaluation, and you may use 'Folding.'"
At Kuan's last comment, the cadets' expressions shifted.
Skima is a virtual anatomical blueprint: you stack schematics of certain builds to produce effects.
'Folding' is an advanced skima technique that folds a given anatomical schematic in half, producing the effect of two overlapping layers.
For example, if a swordsman uses a strength‑enhancement tech tree as a base and performs Folding, their strength more than doubles.
At a higher level, a second fold can be applied—called a 'Double.'
It proceeds to Triple, Quadra, Penta, and so on; the known human limit for folds is seven times.
Of course, at cadet level even a single Fold is difficult. But Kaizen Sword School is a prestigious institution drawing the most talent in Tormia.
Even these trainees, still treated as rookies by instructors, had more than half capable of performing basic Folding.
Tess looked at Rian. As she'd expected, his expression was dark. Rian's technique wasn't markedly worse than other cadets. But as long as skima entered the evaluations, he'd remain at the bottom.
Folding wasn't the only skima technique.
There were many advanced methods: 'Permeation,' which manifests the properties of two anatomical schematics simultaneously; 'Reversal,' which inverts a technique build; 'Cross,' which folds the anatomical schematic diagonally—among many others.