I Became the Youngest Disciple of the Martial God

The last thing a puppet needed was to be seriously damaged.

People wouldn’t normally bother to check whether someone was breathing properly, but anyone would be suspicious if someone’s broken skin fell off like shards of porcelain.

I wondered if certain commands were integrated into the puppets’ instincts. For example: avoid situations where they might get hurt at any cost.

Crash!

The moment Talis went down, two cadets lunged at me simultaneously from both sides.

I kicked up the table hard.

As the food on the table shot into the air, I snatched the empty beer mugs and smashed them over the charging cadets’ heads.

With the sound of glass breaking, the two cadets collapsed on the spot.

And that’s me being nice, I thought. If I had struck them in the face instead of the head, no doubt the glass shards would have shredded their faces.

“You bastard!”

A particularly bulky guy reached out toward me. He was quick for his size, but that was it.

I grabbed his outstretched hand and threw him toward an old rickety table nearby.

Crash!

He was such a big guy that he landed on two tables and broke them both. I wasn’t bothered by the excess destruction, though—they’d been the ones to start this fight.

Cleaning up these nobodies was a bit of a hassle, but it wasn’t particularly difficult.

After eight or nine of these greenhorn cadets had hit the ground...

I heard the chilling sound of steel ring out as one of the guys in the back drew his sword.

Shiiing!

“No! No weapons!” Glenn shouted, sounding slightly panicked, but the cadet was already too far gone. His eyes were rolled partway back in madness.

As if he had completely lost it, he let out a feral scream and thrust forward with his sword.

Shooting the idiot a look of disapproval, I focused my inner energy to my finger and flicked it.

Clang...!

The cadet dropped his sword as vibrating pain shot from his sword through his wrist. In the brief moment he was reeling, I hit his face with my hand.

Not with my palm or my fist but with the back of my hand.

Smack!

The sound alone made clear that it equaled a punch, and I was sure the pain matched. Like the big oaf earlier, this one went flying, and just as dramatically.

A deep, heavy voice cut through the commotion. “...I heard the Bednicker family’s youngest was just a little kid. Was the Lord of Blood and Iron deceiving everyone?”

It was the owner of the tavern.

Even as I’d been dealing with the incompetent greenhorns, my attention had never left him.

It wasn’t just his age—the air around him was beyond that of these average cadets.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who should be running a tavern,” I said.

The man snorted, then charged at me. The mana in his fist was obvious and potent.

His refined energy was undeniable. It was even visible to the naked eye.

A smile made its way onto my face. Not bad.

I focused my inner energy and raised my fist as well.

BOOM!

Our fists collided in midair.

“...!”

Unlike swords, it was rare for fists to collide in the air.

If it wasn’t coordinated, it meant one of the fighters was able to hit the mark with perfect precision, which was impossible without exceptional perception.

“Are you underestimating me?” he growled out.

As expected, he had the skill to realize this much. He charged me with renewed aggression.

I easily dodged his attack, but my mind was racing.

He had plenty of combat experience, there was no doubt of that.

In an empire where bare-handed martial arts were looked down upon, it was rare to find someone this skilled.

As I continued to fight, I couldn\'t help but consider the possibilities.

His relatively young age...

His face and demeanor, unbecoming of a tavern owner...

The subtlety with which he had concealed his internal ki pathways up until now...

And finally, his mastery in unarmed combat.

Swords were great weapons, but their biggest disadvantage was that they inevitably made enemies vigilant.

That was why those who specialized in infiltration or covert operations were trained to either hide their weapons or hone their unarmed skills.

Thinking back to what I’d learned about Barter, I took a guess. “Special Forces?” I asked, and immediately, I saw his breath hitch slightly.

“...!”

How boring.

I’d wanted to keep fighting for a bit longer, but I couldn’t pretend to ignore such an obvious opening.

I immediately reached out and grabbed him by the collar. He instinctively grabbed my wrist, but then he stiffened.

He’d realized the difference in skill level.

Wham!

As I yanked him by the collar toward me, I threw a punch at his stomach. I then threw the man high up into the air, into the kitchen.

There was a crash, and then silence descended upon the restaurant.

I turned to Glenn.

I wanted to see his reaction, but his large hat and the wide glasses that reached down to his cheeks made it hard to read his expression.

“You...” The man who had been thrown into the kitchen groaned as he rose to his feet. His eyes narrowed, glaring at me as he said, “If you lay a finger on him...”

“Just shut your mouth and bring me more tomato beer.”

The owner looked dumbfounded. “What...?”

“I only got to drink half a glass before you all ran at me like headless chickens. I didn’t even get to touch the food, so now I’m hungry.”

“...”

Glenn, who had been silent, ordered, “Marco, do as Luan says.”

“...Understood.”

The guy—Marco—nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, but I still felt his watchful gaze on me.

In the meantime, being the kind person I was, I picked up the overturned table and quickly swept off the remnants of the fight.

“Your Highness... please, r-run away...” I heard Talis say.

“So you were his loyal follower, not an asshole. Then, what happened in the classroom,” I said to Glenn, “you ordered that, didn’t you?”

Glenn looked at me for a moment before saying, “Talis, leave us.”

“Yes?”

“Quick.”

“...U-understood.”

Slowly, Talis and the other cadets struggled to their feet and left the tavern.

A few of the more injured ones had to be practically dragged out by others like defeated soldiers.

It makes sense, I thought. No matter how few brain cells a noble child had, they wouldn’t have the guts to act like an ass in front of imperial blood.

Especially an authoritarian like Talis. People like him would always shrink in front of stronger figures.

* * * * *

* * * * *

“Can I offer you a piece of advice?” Glenn said.

“What?”

“Even if you leave me half-dead right here, it won’t be a problem.”

I quietly stared at him, wondering what nonsense he was going to spout next, but Glenn\'s face grew serious.

“I’m just saying that if you aren’t laying a hand on me because you’re afraid of the imperial family, you don’t need to be.”

“...”

I wasn’t sure if he was spouting all this nonsense because he’d drank too much, but I really had no intention of beating up Glenn.

Not because I didn’t believe him but simply because it wasn\'t something I’d ever planned to do.

I continued to stare at him wordlessly, and eventually he shut up. However, I could see his chin trembling ever so slightly.

“Do you like getting hit?”

His eyes widened. “N-no! Is that even a question?”

I shrugged. I just wanted to be sure. “Then why say such a thing?” I asked.

“...”

Glenn didn’t look like he was going to answer any time soon, so I continued, “You did a background check on me, gathered your whole gang to bury me six feet, and yet you can’t even answer something so simple?”

“...”

“Come on, you can tell me. I may look like this, but I’m actually pretty good when it comes to giving friends advice...”

At my words, Glenn burst out laughing.

It was the kind of laugh you’d give after hearing a terrible joke.

“As you said, I did some digging and found out about your reputation. They call you the only imperfection to the Lord of Blood and Iron’s name, the disgrace of House Bednicker, a worthless piece of trash who earned no blessings.”

“Don’t forget that I even sold the family’s prized sword,” I added casually.

“...If I were to get beaten to a pulp by someone like you, no one would ever think of me as a member of the imperial family, and my royal authority would be at an all-time low.”

“Mhm.”

“I told you before that I had hundreds of siblings, right?”

“That you did.”

“But there are fewer than ten of us officially called ‘prince’ and ‘princess.’ So what do you think happened to the rest of my siblings?”

“Your Highness,” a voice interfered from the kitchen, seemingly to stop Glenn from saying whatever he was about to say.

Glenn forced a smile and continued anyway. “Most of them are dead or gone, and those that are gone... I don’t even know whether they are alive or dead.”

“...”

“Those ten granted the name ‘Scarlet,’ through what criteria were they selected? How did a failure like me end up in the position of fourth prince?”

Glenn tapped his hat a couple of times.

"Hair color. That’s it. Not status, not achievements, not talent—like grading livestock in a slaughterhouse, only the vibrancy and intensity of my hair’s color determines my score."

He burst into laughter, a booming laugh mixed with many different emotions... but none of them were joy.

“This is the reality of The Empire’s imperial family. Rotten old bastards blinded by this shitty symbolism. A cesspool of lunatics so obsessed with a fucking color.”

At this moment, more tomato beer was served.

I glanced up to see Marco glaring at me like he wanted to kill me, so I asked, “You didn’t spit on it or anything, right?”

“I don’t mess with food.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said solemnly... and then proceeded to switch drinks with Glenn.

Judging from his lack of reaction, he’d been telling the truth.

I took a couple of sips of the uniquely flavorful tomato beer, then said, “I just realized...”

“...?”

“You are a puppet too.”

Of course, I didn’t mean that kind of puppet.

From my perspective, Glenn lived a life not so different from a puppet.

"What?"

And with that, I splashed the remaining tomato beer on Glenn’s face.

“Your High—”

Marco, startled, immediately lunged at me. Unlike his earlier moves, this punch carried deadly intent.

He was swinging to kill.

But without so much as glancing his way, I swung my hand.

Smack!

Marco didn’t even have time to react before the back of my hand hit him in the forehead, sending him flying into the wall with a heavy thud.

I turned to Glenn, who was watching me with wide, fiery eyes.

“If you hate the imperial family so much, if you truly can’t stand the color of your hair, why don’t you just shave it all off? Your sister here at the academy dyes hers, so why haven’t you?”

“...That’s...”

“I’m not exactly happy about the Bednicker blood running through me either. Thanks to our oh-so-great family head, the expectations tied to this name are no joke... but so what?”

To be honest, I found this Glenn so pathetic that I wanted to give him a good smack in the head.

But considering his age, he still had the potential to improve, so I held back.

“Sure, the hatred you carry is probably heavier than mine, not to mention that the authority of the imperial family is far greater than Bednicker’s... but is that really such a bad thing?”

“What?”

“I decided to use my bloodline to my advantage. There are plenty of people who grovel at the mere mention of the Bednicker name. At the very least, it helps weed out those pathetic people who are too intimidated by reputation. And let’s face it, being from a prominent family means I can always borrow some money or call in a favor when needed. But what really matters is...” I locked eyes with Glenn as I continued, “...that I don’t take pride in this name. To me, Bednicker isn’t a stigma, it’s a tool. But look at yourself.”

I clicked my tongue and crossed my arms as I scanned the prince drenched in tomato beer.

“You hate the imperial family so much that you hide your hair under a hat? You can’t stand being called a prince or treated like one? Grow the fuck up, will you?”

I saw Glenn clenching his fists, but I didn’t stop.

“Do you even remember what you told me when I spoke formally to you for the first time?”

“...”

“You told me not to. That’s your nature. The moment your emotions run even a little high, you stop asking and start commanding. Just like you did with those idiots who left the shop earlier, or the guy passed out over there.”

I pointed with my chin to where Marco lay motionless on the ground.

“And yet you go on complaining about how much you hate the imperial bloodline, the cult being evil, blah blah... Fucking hell. I thought there was more to your tantrums, but you’re just a pathetic teenager going through puberty, aren’t you?”

“What do you know...!”

To me, Glenn’s words sounded more like “I’ve got nothing left to say.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, stood up, and said, “You’re buying, right? The food and drink were fine, but the atmosphere? I give it a fucking zero out of ten. I’m out of here.”

“Wait, s—”

His half-opened mouth shut abruptly.

From the look on his face, it seemed like he’d been about to order me to “Stop!” or “Sit down!”

I snorted and shot him a sneer before walking out of the tavern.

I could feel Glenn’s gaze burning a hole in my back, but honestly, what the hell could he do?

Sure, I had given him something close to a lecture, but...

This hadn’t all been for nothing.

At least one thing had become clear.

Glenn Scarlet was not a cultist.

***

After returning to the Amber Hall, I went around finding the members of the young heroes one by one to share the current situation.

T/N: From now on, the Archmage of Red will be called the Archmage of Crimson, and the Archmage of Yellow will be called the Archmage of Amber. As a result, this will also change the names of the halls to match their corresponding archmages (e.g., Yellow Hall will become Amber Hall).

The classes were so spread out that by the time I found them all, the sun had already set.

I led the group of young heroes back to the hideout.

Inside, many female young heroes, including Sellen, were already present.

They must have already used the kitchen because there were several loaves of bread on the table alongside roasted meat, sausages, and stew.

I picked up a sausage with my hand and asked, “How’d it go?”

“Out of a hundred and two members, twenty-one were puppets. There might be some margin of error, but if this ratio applies to all the students within the academy, we’re looking at about two hundred student puppets.”

“...”

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

It was Sharyl who suddenly spoke up, her voice fearful: “...What you\'re saying is hard to believe, but I’ve also seen some cadets who don’t breathe. Denying it would just be running away from reality.”

From her tone, it seemed like she had accepted the situation. I liked that she didn’t throw a fit and instead calmly accepted reality.

But of course, not everyone responded that way.

Karis couldn’t accept it. “I-isn’t this some kind of event? It doesn’t make sense. This is the Kartell Academy... Isn’t this supposed to be one of the safest places after the imperial house?”

Pam seemed terrified. “Sh-shouldn’t we ask for help? If we call for the Imperial Guard Unit or active heroes from Heroes...”

"In case you’ve forgotten, this is an island,” I said, “and while the river isn’t that wide, there’s only one bridge across it. I’m sure the headmaster has it under tight surveillance.”

“What if we use a magic item...?”

“Something like a communication crystal? I don’t know... I doubt a great archmage failed to consider that.”

“...”

I looked at Pam, who seemed to be shriveling up more and more with each passing second. I clapped to get her attention.

“Get a grip,” I told her. “We learned this at the training camp. The cult can attack anytime, anywhere. Sure, it’s insane that this is happening at Kartell Academy, but... isn’t this why we participated in the training camp? To learn how to deal with unexpected situations like this?”

The young heroes around me started giving small nods in agreement.

Still, a couple of faces simply didn’t seem to care, which pissed me off.

I decided to give them a firm reality check.

“To be exact, we’re still in the experimental stage. There are several ways to detect puppets... but it won’t always be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think will happen when they create breathing puppets or puppets with real blood and veins under their skin?”

"What will happen?” Karis asked.

I shot a disappointed look at Karis before continuing nonchalantly, “No one will be able to figure out if someone is or is not a puppet. And once those puppets graduate from the academy, it will be even worse. I’m stating the obvious, but all the students here are verified talents. Most of the students here are outstanding, right? It’ll take them just a few months to rise to important positions within The Empire. Just think about it, the imperial guards, heroes, the heirs of noble families—what if they all become the demon lord’s servants?”

“...”

"We will be in a shitload of trouble then. The Empire’s largest educational institution will be turned into a place that just produces cultists.”

The faces of the young heroes stiffened.

It was not that I wasn’t a skeptic.

If things continued like this, my prediction would come true. We would end up in an all-out war with the cult within ten years.

The rising Church of Darkness and the crumbling empire...

Realization came crashing down on me. The beginning of the end of the Nameless Empire might have been initiated by the puppets created at this very academy.

____