The Kingdom

Chapter 6: Training the Core Team

"Didn't you eat? Get your spirits up!"

"The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in battle. You bunch of fools, why don’t you understand this?"

Under the scorching sun, Hudson watched the group of sweating young men and berated them incessantly.

Ever since the selection for knight squires had been completed, this scene had become routine—no one found it unusual anymore.

Knights were born for war, and stepping onto the battlefield was only a matter of time. As squires, they not only had to learn to kill but also be prepared to act as human shields in critical moments.

For the sake of his own survival, Hudson gave it his all, pouring every bit of training knowledge he possessed into these young men.

After three months of rigorous drills, the ten recruits before him had finally begun to take shape. Even the ever-stern Baron Redman acknowledged Hudson’s achievements, bluntly stating that he had the potential to become a general.

Unfortunately, potential remained just that—potential. Having been hardened by the realities of life, Hudson never entertained grand illusions about himself.

No matter how others praised him, he never slackened in his training of his men.

If one observed closely, they would notice Baron Redman standing nearby with his three young sons, silently watching—or rather, secretly learning.

In this closed-off world, knowledge was incredibly scarce, especially military knowledge. Even those eager to learn had nowhere to turn and could only rely on trial and error.

Scattered notes left behind by elders were among the most precious inheritances of noble families.

The great nobles maintained their dominance largely through the monopoly of knowledge.

What Hudson considered merely basic training methods, Baron Redman saw as invaluable treasures. Too embarrassed to ask his son for guidance, he resorted to secretly observing and recording everything instead.

This, however, was a torment for his three young sons. At an age when mischief was second nature, and spoiled by their mother’s indulgence, they had no concept of how precious the knowledge before them truly was. The baron’s efforts were destined to be in vain.

Particularly resentful was Laisur, who was glaring at Hudson with undisguised hostility. Had Baron Redman not been preoccupied, he might have already disciplined his son with a good beating.

After much hesitation, Laisur finally spoke up. "Father, my knight’s basic training is complete. About the Life Essence..."

Before he could finish, Baron Redman’s face darkened instantly, and he shot his son a fierce glare without uttering a single word.

The more silent his father remained, the more anxious Laisur became. He had paid a painful price for that Life Essence—if he didn’t receive it, his losses would be unbearable.

Desperate, he could only pin his hopes on his two younger brothers to plead on his behalf. Unfortunately, noble children matured early; even among siblings, competition took precedence over kinship.

With limited family resources, one person’s gain meant another’s loss. Laisur had made a grave mistake. If he were eliminated from the competition, it would benefit everyone else.

Out of sheer fraternal courtesy, his brothers refrained from actively sabotaging him, but neither were they willing to help. When Laisur looked at them pleadingly, the two simply averted their gazes in unspoken agreement.

This scene did not escape Baron Redman’s notice. However, it did not move him in the slightest.

The world of nobles was brutal—those who did not fight and seize opportunities for themselves would never survive in this ruthless, survival-of-the-fittest society.

A knight’s virtues were humility, honesty, compassion, courage, justice, sacrifice, honor, and integrity.

A noble’s survival rules, however, were entirely different: self-interest above all, hypocrisy, pragmatism, selfishness, and cold rationality were essential skills.

Only after securing one’s survival could a noble afford to embody the so-called noble spirit—integrity, righteousness, and a sense of duty.

That which was unattainable was always deemed the most valuable. The more people revered something, the scarcer it tended to be in reality.

"Focus on watching Hudson train his men carefully. This will be beneficial for your future," Baron Redman advised solemnly.

At the end of the day, they were his sons—he could not be completely heartless. In his eyes, Laisur had entirely misplaced his priorities. Instead of obsessing over Life Essence that was not rightfully his, he should take advantage of this opportunity to learn.

Initially, when Baron Redman discovered Hudson’s talent for training soldiers, he had contemplated having him cultivate an elite force.

However, the financial constraints of his household made that impossible—he could not afford a standing army. The barony’s sole military force consisted of a castle guard barely fifty men strong.

With such limited numbers, the focus naturally had to be on individual combat prowess. Moreover, castle guards and proper armies served different functions, and forcefully applying military tactics to them would be counterproductive.

In a way, military training methods were of little use to minor nobles. Only by pledging allegiance to a king or a powerful noble could one’s military skills find true purpose.

Oblivious to his father’s calculations, Hudson continued training his men with unwavering dedication.

In this world of supernatural powers, ordinary humans stood little chance against the gifted.

Even as a mere low-rank knight, Hudson could easily take down a dozen strong men. This was the fundamental reason why noble houses had maintained their rule over the world for so long.

Due to the nobles’ tight control over resources and their silent agreement to restrict access, Life Essence was never shared with outsiders. For commoners, becoming a knight was nearly impossible. Their only viable path to supernatural power was through the warrior profession.

However, despite both being supernatural paths, warriors were vastly inferior to knights of the same rank. It wasn’t just about having a warhorse—more importantly, knights possessed awakened Life Seeds.

Although Hudson didn’t fully understand what a Life Seed was, he had experienced its benefits firsthand.

The most noticeable effect was the enhancement of his physical abilities. After each grueling training session, the Life Seed would release energy to repair his body’s injuries.

In contrast, warriors suffered significantly. Without a Life Seed’s aid, even their daily training left them with hidden injuries, let alone the dangers they faced on the battlefield.

Longevity was common among knights, but rare among warriors—most never lived past fifty. Their short lifespans naturally limited their potential for growth, which was why powerful warriors were exceedingly rare across the continent.

As for the elusive mages, that was an area where Hudson’s knowledge fell short. The family’s collection of books contained only sparse mentions, offering no real insight.

Other obscure professions were even more elusive—most commoners would never encounter one in their lifetime, leaving Hudson with no means of learning about them.

If his goal was merely to train knight squires, a basic regimen would have sufficed—there was no need for such intensive effort.

But deep down, Hudson’s heart refused to be content. No matter how often he reminded himself to "lie low for now," his actions betrayed his ambition.

The first pot of gold in life was always the hardest to earn.

For now, he had only ten men under his command—small in number, but still better than having none at all.