Monarch of Death

Chapter 9. An Honorable Lord? Who? (4)

Varos spoke seriously to Karnak, who was awkwardly standing while wearing armor.

“The first goal is very simple. Building up your stamina.”

No matter how exceptional the technique, it’s useless if your body can’t handle it. No, you won’t even be able to learn it in the first place.

“Start running, along the edge of the training grounds.”

“That much…”

Since it was an indoor training ground, the space wasn’t very large.

It would take about 20 seconds? He could complete a lap in that time.

Wearing armor definitely made his steps slower.

“Huff, huff huff, isn’t that enough? What’s next?”

Varos looked at Karnak, who was panting, with an expression that seemed to ask, *What are you doing?*

“You still have 49 more laps to go.”

“Wait! You want me to run 50 laps?”

“Did you really think it would end after just one lap?”

“How can a person run 50 laps without resting?”

“You sure talk a lot. Just keep running.”

“Ugh…”

With a pained expression, Karnak started running again.

He gritted his teeth and managed to endure for about 3 more laps. However, his running gradually slowed down.

After around 5 laps, his vision started to turn yellow. He was now moving closer to walking than running.

By the 10th lap, his yellowed vision turned black.

“Gah…”

Karnak’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor. The loud clattering of his armor echoed throughout the training ground.

Crash!

“Ugh…”

Varos covered his face with his hands. A wave of frustration washed over him.

“I knew the young master had no stamina, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad…”

He realized he would need to completely revise his plan.

“We’ll have to delay strength training for now. First, we need to get you up to at least an average person’s stamina.”

Varos forcibly lifted Karnak up.

“Come on, get up! Keep running!”

“I-I really can’t run anymore.”

“Are you giving up? Shall we start preparing to flee in the night?”

“Ugh…”

Groaning, Karnak started moving his feet again.

Varos was right.

Things were too dire to give up now.

“Yes! Run! Keep running!”

* * *

Ten Days Later, Karnak Shed Tears of Joy.

“I-I did it!”

He finally succeeded in running 50 laps around the training ground without stopping! It was truly a remarkable improvement.

Of course, Varos was quick to cut him down.

“You didn’t really run the whole time, did you? The last 10 laps were more like walking.”

“But I didn’t stop!”

“Well, good job.”

Varos didn’t bother to nag any further.

In fact, Karnak could genuinely be said to have taken his training seriously.

For a body that had never exercised, to build up this much stamina in just ten days was no small feat.

While Karnak’s efforts were commendable, a bigger factor was the ample nutrition he received after becoming wealthy.

“See? Stuffing you with meat and letting you sleep well really helped build your stamina. No wonder rich knights are so strong.”

“It’s surprising to me too. I remember not having much of an appetite before.”

“Now, all our meals taste good.”

Usually, when you push your body too hard in a short time, you lose your appetite. But Karnak’s insatiable hunger, which seemed to be fueled by his very soul, had even surpassed the limits of his body!

No matter how tired he was, he never missed a meal. If he felt bloated, he even took digestive aids to help him shovel food into his mouth.

In terms of nutrition, he followed a model regimen.

Thanks to that, his body had improved considerably; he had gone from being just a scarecrow to a “scarecrow with a bit more stuffing.”

Varos nodded as he looked Karnak up and down.

“You’ve barely managed to become functional. Now we can start your stamina training.”

Karnak’s expression turned odd at the mention of stamina training.

“Then what have I been doing until now?”

“Rehabilitation.”

“…”

“You should at least be able to move at full speed for 5 minutes while wearing armor.”

“I thought that’s what I just did?”

Karnak had certainly run(?) well over 5 minutes in armor without stopping.

“Do you think it’s the same as when a blade is swinging in front of you? At your current level, your legs will give out in less than 30 seconds.”

Feeling the creeping despair, Karnak protested.

“Then when am I supposed to learn swordsmanship? There’s no time left.”

The duel was already less than twenty days away.

“That’s why you need to hurry.”

Soothing his master with a mischievous grin, the faithful servant urged him on.

“Now, let’s begin the real stamina training!”

* * *

Karnak’s Daily Routine Was Simple.

First, he got up in the morning and had breakfast.

Then, he went straight to the training ground and relentlessly did push-ups, swung a heavy iron rod, squatted and stood up repeatedly, and so on.

Afterward, he would rest, eat lunch, and head back to the training ground.

His day consisted solely of eating, resting, and training—nothing else.

“Huff, huff, huff…”

Today, too, as he swung the iron rod with all his might, Karnak suddenly glanced to the side.

A blonde young man clad in heavy armor was swinging a greatsword, repeatedly practicing the same stance.

Varos was in the same position, needing to build up his own body, so while training Karnak, he was also deeply engaged in his own regimen.

“Hey, Varos.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Do all knights go through this kind of mindless training?”

Varos raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not knight training.”

“Really?”

So, was he the only one being put through this grueling regimen?

Karnak was about to protest.

“That’s just a standard training course for regular soldiers. Knights wouldn’t train so lightly.”

“Huh…”

Deflated, Karnak let his shoulders droop.

Come to think of it, despite being the Death King who had conquered the world, he had no memory of ever watching his knights or soldiers train.

It made sense.

They were all either skeletons, half-rotten corpses, evil spirits, or Death Knights, after all.

On the other hand, Varos had fought alongside Karnak in a living body even before becoming undead. He was well-versed in the basics of body conditioning.

“What I’m doing is knight training.”

Varos’s body had undergone even more changes than Karnak’s.

He was force-feeding himself twice as much as Karnak and steadily building his body; the thickness of his arms alone was on another level.

Karnak squinted enviously at him.

“You bulk up quickly, huh? Why don’t I?”

“This is still mostly just fat. Muscles don’t develop properly in just a few days, you know? If I keep training steadily, this will eventually turn into muscle.”

“From what I can see, you’re already stupidly bulky. No wonder knights are all so muscular.”

“This is still weaker than regular knights. It’s more like the level of a squire.”

“…Are all knights monsters?”

Varos retorted as if the idea was absurd.

“And who are you calling a monster, when you’re the one who commands skeletons to cut off people’s heads?”

Despite all his efforts to build up his body and master techniques, Varos was still relentlessly overwhelmed by true masters. It was only later, after becoming a Death Knight through Karnak’s power, that he began to truly make a name for himself.

“Don’t think you can slack off and take a break while pretending to do something else! You rest only when I permit it!”

“Who’s the master and who’s the servant here?”

Grumbling, Karnak diligently followed Varos’s instructions.

Another week passed like this. Karnak’s stamina had improved to the point where he could move somewhat freely while wearing armor.

Varos nodded in approval.

“It’s time to start your sword training.”

There were only fifteen days left until the duel.

* * *

Finally, he was permitted to draw a sword.

Feeling a bit excited, Karnak drew the training longsword from his waist.

“Can I finally start swinging the sword?”

“Not yet.”

The task at hand for Karnak, now holding the sword, was this:

“I’m not asking for much. Just stand properly and correctly.”

“Just that?”

Though puzzled, Karnak raised his sword and assumed a stance, aiming at an imaginary enemy.

And soon after, he realized that it was not “just that.”

He had to endure a barrage of corrections for what he thought was a simple stance.

“Your arm is shaking.”

“Bend your knees more.”

“Shift your weight to your back foot.”

“Keep your eyes on the center of the opponent.”

“Relax your shoulders.”

“Put more strength into the arm holding the sword.”

Karnak, struggling and frustrated, finally snapped.

“How am I supposed to put strength in my arm but relax my shoulders? Do you have your arm and shoulder attached separately?”

“…Ugh, how do I even explain this?”

After spending half a day, Karnak barely managed to get the stance right, though it would immediately fall apart if he lost focus.

At this rate, there was no way he could deliver a proper strike.

However, Varos decided to move on for now.

“At your current level, even if you swing the sword correctly, you’ll still end up getting cut down.”

The goal of this training wasn’t to defeat Sir Randolph in the duel.

“But if you maintain this stance, at least you won’t get decapitated in a single blow.”

Varos picked up a large wooden club and pointed it at Karnak.

“I’m going to attack you. Prepare yourself.”

Karnak’s eyes lit up as he tightened his grip on the sword.

“You want me to counterattack?”

“Counterattack…”

Varos snorted, finding the idea absurd.

“You’ll understand after you experience it.”

Suddenly, a heavy pain struck Karnak’s abdomen. Varos had abruptly jabbed him with the club.

“Gah!”

Despite the armor, the force penetrated, shaking his insides.

Groaning, Karnak clutched his stomach with both arms.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

“But you can’t just stand there holding your stomach. Get back into stance.”

Gritting his teeth, Karnak once again raised his sword, his eyes now filled with determination.

‘This time, I’ll take advantage of the opening when the club comes in and land a hit!’

There was no such opening.

Thwack!

“Guh!”

Karnak staggered back, having taken a blow to the shoulder.

Varos spoke indifferently.

“Get back into stance, I said.”

The beating continued relentlessly.

Varos showed no mercy, thoroughly pummeling Karnak, who could do nothing but take the blows over and over.

Counterattack?

Not a chance.

Before he could even think of attempting one, Varos’s follow-up strikes would come, completely shutting down any opportunity.

Every attack targeted critical points—his shoulders, waist, knees—disrupting the movements at their core. From Karnak’s perspective, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

“This is why knights can toy with ordinary people. It’s not because they have some superhuman reflexes or perfect vision that they can block or dodge every attack.”

Of course, there was some truth to that, but it wasn’t the whole story.

“It’s because they can prevent their opponent from attacking altogether or force them to attack in a way they can easily counter. The less experience the opponent has, the easier it is.”

That’s why it was important to recover your stance quickly, even if it was disrupted by an attack.

“At the very least, you’ll be able to avoid the next strike. I’m sure your duel with Sir Randolph will go exactly like this.”

“I see.”

Nodding seriously, Karnak took his stance once more.

He tried to prepare for the next blow when—

Thwack!

He got hit again…

“Hey! I can’t block the next strike even when I’m in stance!”

“Not at your current level.”

“You said if I maintained my stance, Randolph wouldn’t be able to cut off my head!”

“As if! If he wanted to, he could cut you down anytime.”

“Then why are we doing this training?”

Varos grinned.

“To make sure he doesn’t want to.”

Randolph, as Karnak had assessed, was someone with a strong desire for self-aggrandizement.

He had the skill to thoroughly toy with his opponent, and with plenty of spectators watching, he wasn’t likely to just behead someone right away.

“There’s a solid reason to believe this.”

The proof was Paralt, who had both his legs cut off.

In a situation where Randolph could have easily taken his head, he chose to cut off both legs instead, something far more difficult. This clearly showed Randolph’s personality.

“But if you lose your will to fight, it’s a different story.”

Toying with an opponent who has given up would look like bullying the weak.

“The reason Sir Paralt, who was much weaker than you, had his head cut off in one blow was because of this.”

The former head of the house, Baron Krafut, had little proficiency in swordsmanship. It was said that he lost his will to fight the moment he faced Randolph.

“If Randolph had toyed with such an opponent, it would’ve hurt his own reputation. So, he ended it honorably with a single blow.”

Thus, the current goal of Karnak’s training was clear.

“You need to appear as someone who hasn’t lost their fighting spirit and won’t give up until the end. That way, he won’t kill you in one strike.”