The Dukedom was still shrouded in darkness, the sun yet to rise over the horizon. The faint glow of lanterns flickered from the kitchen windows of the duchy, where maids and cooks were already hard at work preparing for the day. Outside, the rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the cold morning air.  

A group of men ran through the valley, their breaths ragged, their bodies drenched in sweat. Each of them carried a heavy sack filled with rocks and sand on their backs, a sword strapped to their hips. Dressed only in pants, they pushed through the bitter chill, their muscles aching from exhaustion. Among them were Jacob and his fellow mercenaries, struggling to keep up with the knights leading the run.  

"Hah... hah... I... I’m running... out... of breath," Bob wheezed, barely managing to speak between gulps of air.  

Jacob was no better off. His body burned, his lungs screamed, and sweat dripped down his face despite the freezing temperature. The streets of the duchy were empty, most of its people still fast asleep, unaware of the grueling training happening just outside their homes.  

"This is... the fourth time we’ve run through here..." Jacob gasped, his legs feeling heavier with each step. "How long... is this going to last?"  

"Keep up," Jack’s voice cut through the morning air. Unlike Jacob and the mercenaries, he barely looked tired. His breathing was steady, his pace unwavering. "If you fall behind, you’ll get less food."  

Jacob shot him a disbelieving look. It was unnatural. None of the knights seemed to be struggling. Despite the harsh conditions, they moved with ease, as if this brutal exercise was nothing more than a warm-up.  

*"How the hell are they fine after running so much?"* Jacob thought.  

The path took them from the duchy to the forest, then through the streets, and back to the duchy. They had already repeated the route four times.  

A few vassals on their way to work paused, watching the knights run by. Some chuckled at the sight.  

"How many years has it been since we last saw the knights running through the streets for training?" one of them mused.  

Another nudged his companion. "Look... those mercenaries got in, huh?"  

By the time the sun finally rose, the mercenaries were sprawled out on the ground of the training yard, completely drained.  

"Ah... it hurts," Finn groaned. "My whole body feels like it’s falling apart. And they only gave us a mouthful of water in the morning... we haven’t eaten anything!"  

"Get up," one of the knights called out. "It’s time to eat. Let’s go to the cafeteria."  

The moment they heard the word *eat*, the mercenaries sprang to their feet and rushed toward the dormitory’s cafeteria.  

The scent of warm food filled the large hall. The cafeteria was spacious, lined with two long rows of benches where knights were already seated, enjoying their meals. Maids handed each newcomer a bowl of steaming mushroom soup and a sandwich with a slice of meat. Four baskets filled with wheat bread sat on the benches, free for anyone to take.  

"It smells amazing..." Bob mumbled, practically drooling.  

Jacob and the others stared at the food, wide-eyed.  

"Soup made with mushrooms, a sandwich with meat, and bread too..." Bob’s voice trembled with excitement. "I never thought knights ate this well. This is heaven!"  

Jacob nodded in agreement.  

A knight sitting across from him chuckled. "The lord treats his people well. Normally, knights aren’t treated this generously in other places."  

"Jeff, right?" Jacob asked, recalling his name.  

"Yeah."  

Jacob hesitated before asking, "I heard the duchy was in bad shape. How did the Duke manage to get this much food for us?"  

Jeff leaned back. "When we arrived at the duchy, we brought carriages full of supplies. But we’ll have an even bigger feast when hunting season comes around."  

"Hunting season?" Jacob repeated.  

Jack, sitting beside him, explained, "That’s when beasts and monsters come down from the mountains and attack the nearby villages. The lord leads us in wiping them out, and we take their meat. It happens mostly during winter."  

Jacob blinked. "Wait... before the duchy had knights, who did the hunting?"  

Jack grinned. "The lord and his brother."  

"The Duke?" Jacob asked, surprised.  

Jack nodded. "The lord is strong—he wields both sword and magic. The young lord is no slouch either when it comes to battle."  

Jacob recalled the Duke’s overwhelming presence. It made sense.  

"So, who’s the strongest knight here?" Mark asked, curious.  

Jack shrugged. "Not sure."  

Before anyone else could answer, a deep but calm voice cut in.  

"The Duke is the strongest. Among the knights, it’s Captain Ezra."  

Jacob turned toward the voice and immediately stiffened. Across from Jeff sat a massive man, taking up enough space for two people. His presence alone was enough to silence those around him.  

"Z-Zalthar..." Jacob stammered.  

Zalthar glanced at him before taking another sip of his soup. "You know me?"  

"Ah, yeah," Jacob said. "I saw you fight at the brawl betting matches."  

Zalthar’s expression remained unreadable. "Did you bet on me?"  

Jacob hesitated. "...No, I bet on Wind Blade."  

Zalthar frowned. "Who’s that?"  

Jacob nearly choked. "What? He was famous! A top mercenary from the Striking Wind group. Everyone bet on him, but no one expected you to completely overpower him!"  

"The Wind Blade of the Striking Wind?" Zalthar repeated, unimpressed. "Sounds lame."  

Jacob stared for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Lame, huh? Haha!"  

Jeff smirked. "So, do you like it here so far?"  

Jacob grinned. "Like it? It’s amazing!"  

"Except for the training," Bob muttered, stuffing his mouth with bread.  

Zalthar placed his empty bowl on the table and looked at them. "Well, you’re going to *die* training today. Finish eating and head to the training ground. I’ll be handling your training."  

Bob gulped audibly.  

Jacob, staring at his half-eaten sandwich, suddenly lost his appetite.