“Now then… Today, we will talk about formations.”
The lecture hall was filled with long desks and chairs, and was large enough to accommodate about thirty people.
Vengras stood in front of a blackboard, and he began to write something while explaining it to them.
Poro and the others had barely had any education in their lives. And so many of them saw these lessons as a short break from their training.
Indeed, a few people were already starting to doze off. Meshe, who sat next to Poro, was already looking away with boredom.
Still, the tactician paid them no mind as he addressed the audience.
“But first, I have a question. What do you think is our reason for fighting against the Demon King?”
The question was so sudden that the others didn’t know how to answer. They looked at each other awkwardly. Vengras chuckled.
“Perhaps I should have worded that differently. Other Heroes fight alone. Or some in small numbers. But why does our Hero lead an army? Have you ever thought about the reason for that?”
“Well… Surely it’s because it makes him stronger?”
Someone muttered. Vengras smiled and shook his head.
“Now then…would you think the same way, if we recruited townspeople and villagers, who had received no blessings?”
“Not at all! Because…without it…we would just be…”
“Indeed. You would be nothing but ordinary people with no power. You cannot stop a torrent of water with some dirt.”
Poro recalled the morning training.
They were viewed by the others as being below dogs. It was the mindset of those who had power. In the end, demons and Heroes were the same.
As if reading his mind, the sorcerer turned to Poro.
“However, with some wood, one could make a frame that can be filled. And then the dirt becomes part of a great dam that can stop the tide. Enough to stop the tyranny of the Demon King.”
“So the training. The order. That what you’re saying?”
“Normally, I should not be saying such things. But our god, Lord Furukamuto, is always thinking about it. Why is it that the other gods think a single Hero can protect the peace of this world.”
He spread out his arms and raised his voice.
“Think about it. What is the meaning of salvation that just comes from above? Is it really salvation…to have someone else wipe away the sadness of what you lost? The hatred over the pain that was caused?”
Poro knew what the man was doing. They were being provoked. He was just saying this to manipulate them.
Still…
“Even if you left it all to a single Hero, and lived in peace. What pride could one have in that? Is it not an act…of scorn against humans who live in this world?”
Yes. But…
“What our Hero wishes to do, is not to save you. It is to make you strong. Win victory by your own hands. Take back your pride.”
Poro wanted to accept the man’s words. He couldn’t deny it.
“Your power is now a blade that is being sharpened. A shield that is being polished… This is your first step to being able to protect what is yours.”
The room had fallen quiet. No one was coughing or muttering now. You could almost hear them breathing.
And the sorcerer’s voice cut through the silence and buried deep into the minds of the soldiers.
“The formations we are going to teach you. They embody that ideal. Even if you are weak on our own, when all gather together, and are used well, you have the power to block the flow. You will become your own Hero.”
When Vengras saw that he had everyone’s attention, he turned back to the blackboard and began writing.
“Now, let us begin. Listen well and watch closely. And be sure that you do not forget what I am about to tell you.”
The reaction was predictable.
Until it was time for the next training, Poro focused on every word as Vengras taught. As if to burn it into his memory.