Four o'clock in the morning.
The participants in this Ainsworth-style Boot Camp were not just any students from the training school; they were a handpicked group of elite members. That said, none of them were yet aware of the program's name.
All they knew was that the genius who had become one of the Seven Grand Sorcerers at the youngest age in history—Lydia Ainsworth herself—would be personally overseeing their instruction.
They were convinced of their own status.
They believed they were the chosen ones, destined to walk a path of glory. They told themselves that was precisely why they were being granted such an elite education... or so they chose to believe.
A heavy tension hung in the air as the twenty selected members stood in formation on the training grounds. Only twenty had been plucked for this inaugural Ainsworth-style Boot Camp.
The group wasn't composed solely of brawny men; every person present possessed a formidable physique. Though few in number, several women were among them, each boasting impressive muscle definition. For this program, Lydia had specifically selected individuals who looked capable of withstanding the most grueling of regimens.
Utterly ignorant of the reality of the Ainsworth-style Boot Camp, these men and women did not yet know... that hell was waiting for them just over the horizon.
"She’s coming."
"Is that her...?"
"Yeah. The genius who reached the rank of the Seven Grand Sorcerers at the youngest age in history..."
They watched Lydia’s approach with eyes full of reverence.
With her lustrous, beautiful golden hair swaying behind her, she stepped before them, but...
"A kid?"
"Wait, what?"
"Is that the Captain's child?"
"No, that can't be right..."
A murmur spread through the ranks like ripples across a pond.
The object of their confusion was Ray. He was clad in a custom-made, small-sized training uniform—tailored by Carol—and wore a sharp, disciplined expression.
"First, let me clarify one thing."
A dignified voice rang out.
At the sound of Lydia’s command, the group fell into a dead silence.
"He is... well, a relative of mine. He will also be participating in this training. Treat him as one of your own."
That child is participating in the training...?
The same thought crossed everyone's mind: surely they had misheard. However, Ray gave a polite, serious bow and moved to the very back of the line, taking his place with an air of complete nonchalance.
Many wore looks of utter bewilderment, but the situation was so bizarre that no one dared to question it.
"Now then, everyone. For the next two months, I will be personally overseeing your instruction. I expect your full cooperation. Furthermore, your response from now on is 'Ranger!' Understood?"
"Ranger!!"
Their gruff voices shook the air. Hearing the response, Lydia let out a predatory smirk.
"Now for the outline. Since I designed this program myself, it is officially known as the Ainsworth-style Boot Camp. I originally devised it for recruit training, but I've decided to test it here first. Consider yourselves the guinea pigs. I suggest you prepare yourselves accordingly."
They collectively swallowed hard.
The Ainsworth-style Boot Camp.
Hearing the name only reinforced their belief that they were the elite. If they could master this program, they would become something special.
Convinced that this would lead to a brilliant career, they failed to grasp the true weight of the words "prepare yourselves."
And then—the curtain finally rose on hell.
"What's the matter?! Is that all you've got?!! Pick up the pace!!"
Lydia's roar thundered across the field. The Ainsworth-style Boot Camp was underway, and it was immediately clear that it bore no resemblance to the standard training school curriculum.
The first rule imposed: a total ban on the use of sorcery for the first month. This included Inside Code. At those words, a wave of agitation swept through the recruits.
Standard training usually involved using Inside Code to perform high-level exercises. Being told to forgo it was a shock to their systems.
Lydia pulled out a stopwatch and addressed them.
"Listen up. Run this track at full power for thirty seconds. I want total effort. After that, you are permitted to walk for exactly fifteen seconds. Then, another full-power sprint for thirty seconds. That is one set. We're starting with ten sets. Understood?!"
"Ranger!"
It was a method none of them had ever encountered. Their endurance training had always focused on long-distance running. Besides, with breaks built into the routine, some wondered if this might actually be easy...
That misconception was exactly what Lydia expected.
Having already put herself and Ray through it, she knew the truth: this High-Intensity Interval Training was a brutal ordeal.
Lydia had spent years pondering how to make training more efficient.
This was the solution she had arrived at. The program built around this High-Intensity Interval Training was the heart of the Ainsworth-style Boot Camp.
The first month was dedicated to thorough physical reinforcement. Afterward, magic strengthening would be conducted using the same methodology. She had already submitted the data to the military high command, and its effectiveness had been officially recognized.
In a sense, this was an experiment to prove the program's general versatility.
"Hah... hah... hah... urgh... I'm dying..."
"This is insane... it’s actually killing me..."
"I... I don't think I can make it..."
During the minuscule rest periods, they tried to recover by walking, but the agony was becoming real. Some already looked like the life had been drained out of them.
"Alright! Next set! If I see anyone slacking, I'll add extra sets as a penalty! I don't care if you collapse, give it everything you've got!!"
Hearing her voice, they finally realized the truth.
They hadn't been chosen for glory. They had stepped into hell.
Amidst the struggling adults, a single boy moved with composure. His breathing was heavy, yet he didn't appear to be in nearly as much distress as the others. Despite being a child among adults, he had a certain presence—an expression that suggested this was merely business as usual.
Most notably, he led the pack in every single sprint. Whether it was pride or simple disbelief, the adults refused to be outdone by a child, making Ray’s presence an unintentional but powerful stimulus.
"Alright. Good. Everyone finished the first round. Get some water. We move to the next phase in ten minutes."
Before Lydia, the recruits lay like a field of corpses. Every one of them was gasping for air, sprawled where they had collapsed.
And yet, there was a next phase? Almost every person there felt the sudden, desperate urge to desert.
Lydia, meanwhile, was recording their times and metrics on a clipboard. She was a woman of logic who valued data above all else. She intended to track every second to build a comprehensive physical profile of each trainee.
Ray approached her side, his small footsteps light.
"Ray. You can still keep going, right?"
"Yes, ma'am. Of course."
"Then while these guys are recovering, let's get a few more sets in."
"Understood, ma'am."
The recruits watched an impossible scene unfold. While grown adults were at their breaking point, the small boy was heading back out for more.
"Hah... hah... Hey, what the hell is that kid?"
"I don't know... hah... is he really the Captain's relative?"
"Hah... maybe... but he's too young to be doing this..."
"Hah... hah... he's a monster... how is he still moving?"
The reason for their exhaustion was simple: they had spent their lives relying on sorcery for everything. While their raw physical abilities weren't necessarily poor, they had massive amounts of untapped potential that had never been pushed.
Ray, however, had been under Lydia’s tutelage for three years. Before he was ever allowed to touch magic, his body had been forged in the fires of her training. Thanks to that discipline, his physical capabilities already surpassed those of seasoned soldiers.
Of course, it certainly helped that Ray possessed a level of talent that defied all standards.
"Alright, Ray. That’s enough for now."
"Yes, ma'am. Understood."
Ray wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and calmly regulated his breathing.
"Now then. We’re moving to the next training session. It will also be interval-based. Steel yourselves."
"..."
"I didn't hear a response!!!"
"R-Ranger!!!"
The hell was only just beginning.