As Bellen’s order was given, the slightly chaotic training grounds quickly settled down.

Clearing a wide space in the center, the soldiers sat in a circle at a distance.

It reminded one of children sitting around to watch a circus performance, but no one was laughing.

‘They’re frozen stiff. But there must be some among them worth training.’

Erdene, who had taken a seat where she could overlook the entire training grounds at a glance, scanned the faces of the soldiers and knights one by one, as if examining them.

The Betorian soldiers, unable to hide their bewilderment at the sight of Erdene sitting with her knees spread wide like a man, whispered among themselves and turned their gazes away.

‘It will be quite enjoyable to select and train some promising fellows.’

As Erdene nodded, Bellen called forth a man named Radatz, one of the Betorian knights.

Despite his solid-looking physique, his eyes were somewhat weak, and when Erdene saw how he gripped the wooden sword, she clicked her tongue softly.

“To think a fellow who hasn’t even mastered the basics is a commander.”

Aiman, facing Radatz, must have had a similar thought as he glanced back at Erdene.

‘If this goes wrong, he might die. What should I do?’

Reading Aiman’s intention with just a glance, Erdene shrugged her shoulders.

‘Since dying would be troublesome, go easy on him.’

Aiman tilted his large head. He seemed unsure of just how much he should hold back.

“Take your positions!”

Bellen shouted as he raised the flag for the match. As Aiman took his stance, Radatz also bent his knees clumsily and faced forward.

“Begin!”

The first to move was Radatz. His shout was halfhearted, but the speed at which he swung the wooden sword was quite fast.

However, when Aiman slanted one arm to deflect the attack, Radatz’s feet slipped, unable to overcome the speed.

“Tsk.”

Erdene clicked her tongue with a displeased expression. Radatz, flustered, staggered as he regained his stance.

Sophia whispered softly.

“The son of Marquis Nickneven seems quite frightened.”

Erdene glanced up at her.

“You mean that fellow facing Aiman?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I heard his father, Marquis Nickneven, was quite an excellent military officer but retired early due to illness. Radatz Nickneven is the marquis’s only son. He originally wanted to become a diplomat, but ended up joining the knights because of his father.”

“It’s unbelievable that he’s a commander with those skills.”

“I’ve heard his movements are quite agile, but he lacks courage.”

It was as Sophia said.

Radatz’s attacks made even Bellen, who was watching, frown, but the way he dodged whenever Aiman charged in was well done.

“This guy…!”

When Aiman couldn’t catch up to Radatz, his face flushed red and turned pale.

Because Erdene had signaled him to ‘go easy,’ his movements had to be considerably slow and lacking in strength, which frustrated his impatient personality.

“Ha…!”

The moment Aiman let his guard down, Radatz instantly struck at his opening.

As Radatz, who had been busy dodging the whole time, twisted his body and swung the wooden sword, not only Telma and Merton, but even Erdene was startled and widened their eyes.

“This fellow!”

But Aiman wasn’t one to easily fall for an attack without killing intent. He received Radatz’s attack with sheer force, as if on a battlefield.

With a loud crack, Radatz’s body was half-lifted into the air before crashing down and sliding across the ground.

As a faint cloud of dust rose, Aiman glanced at Erdene with an ‘oops’ expression.

‘Well, he probably didn’t die from that much.’

As Erdene nodded, Aiman rubbed his bumpy head with his palm and approached Radatz.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Ugh… What strength.”

Radatz got up, grimacing. A groan escaped as if he had dislocated his shoulder from the fall.

“Victory goes to Aiman, commander of Hirschsten!”

Bellen belatedly raised the flag. Aiman spat on his palm, readjusted his grip on the wooden sword, and stood in the center of the training grounds again.

He thought it was a winner-takes-all match, as was the custom in the empire.

Erdene spoke.

“Aiman, you can go back. Merton, it’s your turn this time.”

At that, Aiman grumbled like a disgruntled boy.

“I haven’t even warmed up yet!”

“I’ll let you warm up plenty later, so go back obediently.”

Erdene glared at him.

The Betorian soldiers were once again astonished to see the giant black bear-like Aiman return to his place like a gentle lamb at her single command.

The only one unsurprised was Bellen Wizard, who had already been beaten by Erdene before.

“Wizard.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“The Commander Aiman you just saw is the strongest in physical power in Hirschsten. He doesn’t usually use things like wooden swords. He doesn’t use greatswords well either. He mainly fights with blunt weapons, and the knights under Aiman’s command are also armed with morning stars or two-handed axes. Does Betor have such a unit of knights?”

Bellen lowered his gaze slightly and honestly shook his head.

“No, Your Highness.”

“I thought so.”

Leaning back in her chair, Erdene was lost in thought for a moment.

The knights of this peaceful country would have been assembled without any consideration for the individual talents or strengths of the soldiers. As is often the case with countries that do not emphasize military power.

‘That Radatz fellow just now would have been much better off using a spear than a sword. He has a large build, but to make full use of his flexible and agile movements, a spear would be better. It would be good to create a unit of knights centered around spearmen.’

Erdene looked down at Bellen again.

“Commander Merton’s main weapons are a heavy two-hander and a flamberge. He also has some skill in shield techniques, but since this is a wooden sword match, it will be difficult to showcase that this time. Choose someone suitable to face him.”

While listening to her words, Bellen’s knees were itching.

No matter how little emphasis Betor placed on military training, those with a soldier’s constitution down to their bones were truly different.

He was excited at the thought of directly clashing with Merton himself.

However, there must have been a reason for Erdene to specifically explain the specialties of the officers under her command.

Realizing that this wasn’t a match simply for entertainment, Bellen pointed to one of the knights.

“Sislan, you come forward.”

The gazes of those gathered at the training grounds focused on the man who stood up from his seat.

He was on the slender side compared to Radatz, but his upper arms were well-trained.

Perhaps his pride was somewhat hurt after seeing Radatz get knocked out by a single defensive move from Aiman, but his lowered eyes were quite serious.

‘Hmm, this fellow seems quite useful too.’

As Erdene believed that a military officer, whether a soldier or a commander, should have a sense of pride, Sislan had amply passed the first test.

Unlike Aiman, Merton didn’t need Erdene to give him any hints. He was the most cautious person among all the military officers in Hirschsten.

Those who tumbled on the battlefield tended to have their bodies move before their minds, but Merton was the type to think more.

‘That’s why I made Telma his aide. Even if he’s a bit reckless, he’s quick-witted. Merton tends to miss opportunities to charge forward because he considers and keeps in mind even trivial matters.’

Merton gripped the wooden sword with both hands and carefully observed his opponent.

The young commander named Sislan also didn’t move recklessly. Even after the flag was raised, the two spent some time probing each other.

“Not going to make a move?”

Sislan provoked first. Merton smiled slightly, moving his beard-covered lips.

“I’m waiting for you to move, young soldier of Betor.”

“You shouldn’t face me with Radatz in mind.”

“I don’t underestimate my opponents.”

Sislan’s eyebrows twitched.

He was young, overflowing with vigor, and above all, confident due to his lack of real combat experience. In other words, he was a frog in a well with a strong sense of pride.

“It seems you’re trying to show off your veteran skills, but in that case, I won’t refuse.”

With a tuk sound, the tip of Sislan’s foot kicked the ground at an angle. An intrigued smile finally appeared on Erdene’s lips as she watched.

‘He’s certainly someone worth raising.’

Sislan’s wooden sword charged towards Merton’s shoulder as he tilted his body.

“Something seems to be causing a commotion outside.”

Pelahar, who had been sprawled on the bed until the sun was high in the sky, sat up abruptly and spoke.

It sounded as if someone was constantly snapping twigs, and it showed no signs of stopping. Moreover, occasional cheers of unknown origin began to be heard.

“Did a circus troupe arrive? Go and find out what this noise is about.”

The attendant who received the order ran out in a hurry.

Pelahar had his ears pricked up at the sounds from outside that seemed to continue on and on, as if they would break off at any moment. He had a feeling something interesting was happening.

“Your Majesty Pelahar, I was told that the imperial knights and Betorian knights are currently having a match at the training grounds.”

“What? Really?”

The attendant nodded.

“And I was informed that Her Majesty the Queen is also present.”

I knew it, Pelahar thought.

The moment he heard the words ‘training grounds,’ he was already picturing Erdene’s face.

He threw on his jacket haphazardly and strode out of the room, with the attendant swiftly following him.

“Your Majesty, where are you going? Surely not to the training grounds…”

“Yes, if anyone comes looking for me, tell them I went there.”