I'm Not a Genius Commander

Chapter 3

—Murmur, murmur

The training grounds of the outpost.

The soldiers gathered in front of the platform had no idea why they were called there and were busy chatting among themselves.

Some were debating whether to gamble again today or just waste time as usual.

Then, they saw Arthur approaching. Behind him, Perlaug struggled, carrying a box with great difficulty.

"Arthur... Huff, huff... Sir Arthur... Should I put this here?"

"Yes. Good work."

"Y-Yes, sir...!"

It was unusual to see Perlaug doing menial tasks himself, especially when he usually dumped such work on any random soldier.

Sweat—or perhaps some unidentifiable liquid—dripped from him as he panted.

—Tap, tap, tap

Even with Arthur’s arrival, the soldiers did not quiet down.

Discipline was nowhere to be found, not even a sliver of order among them.

They had likely assumed he was here for another pointless rant or to spout nonsense.

But then, in an instant:

[Silence.]

The voice pierced straight into their minds, and the entire training ground fell silent.

Looking around to find the source of the voice, the soldiers noticed their comrades reacting the same way.

[I will give instructions directly to each of you from now on. First, close your mouths and stand properly.]

The voice echoing in their heads wasn’t unfamiliar.

It was a voice they all recognized—none other than the scoundrel commander, Arthur.

Unlike his usual, careless tone, this voice was heavy and dignified, a commander’s voice that didn’t match his previous reputation.

[I've shown nothing but a disgraceful side of myself as your commander. I apologize. So, I’ve prepared something for all of you.]

—Nod

With one hand gripping his cane and the other behind his back, Arthur gave Perlaug a signal.

To redeem his image, Perlaug used the full force of his lungs, normally reserved for scolding subordinates.

"Every soldier, take one blindfold from the box! One per person!"

At his command, the soldiers approached the box Perlaug had brought and each took a blindfold.

They had no idea why they were being given these, but since it was an order, they complied.

Once everyone had a blindfold and returned to their positions, Arthur’s voice spoke again.

[Now that you have them, put them on.]

"Excuse me?"

A wave of confusion rippled through the soldiers.

They didn’t even know why they were called to the training ground, and now they were being told to wear blindfolds?

They might have thought it was another one of the scoundrel’s bad pranks, but no one dared to voice their complaints.

Every soldier here knew what happened to those who had protested before.

[You must be wondering why I am asking you to wear blindfolds. However, for the next ten days, you must become accustomed to this.]

Accustomed to it? What did that mean?

[From now on, all training will be conducted while wearing blindfolds. Remember this: no one is to remove their blindfolds outside of training hours. Understood?]

"What does that mean?! How can we train while wearing blindfolds?"

As soon as the telepathy cut off, complaints erupted from every direction.

It was a clear display of how the unit had been run until now.

Soldiers could question orders, but they were not supposed to challenge them.

A unit without hierarchy could easily become a mess where allies might turn into enemies.

How should I handle the soldiers?

If I forced them through intimidation, it would only increase their resistance. That would hinder my ability to utilize my power effectively.

The ultimate goal of the blindfolds was to freely control the soldiers according to my directions. If I couldn’t do that, it would be a serious problem.

"You bunch of idiots—————!!!"

Then, Perlaug, standing beside me, roared across the training ground.

Thanks to his ample belly, his voice carried with an impressive resonance.

The soldiers' complaints gradually died down.

Seeing the effect, Perlaug's belly inflated again as he shouted once more.

"Do you all want to end up in the stockade————?!!"

The stockade?

In a situation where every soldier was valuable, sending them to the stockade would be a significant loss.

However, it seemed Perlaug had half-shouted it as a threat rather than a genuine intention.

No more complaints came from the soldiers.

I resumed telepathy.

[Do you think the commander is a joke? Do you believe I will simply accept your objections without question?]

"N-No, sir!"

[As the lieutenant said, anyone who continues to protest will be sent to the stockade under military law. Engrave this in your hearts: Follow the commander’s orders.]

The first training session began in a somewhat hostile atmosphere.

Not the ideal start, but well... I’d take what I could get.

The first training began with the blindfolds.

***

[Phlox. Bend forward, extend your right leg, and perform a light horizontal slash.]

[Mars. Imagine striking down from the upper right with a greatsword. Absorb the force with your legs and deflect it with your blade at a 60-degree angle.]

[Hans. Maintain your stance. Thrust forward once, then retreat.]

Over a hundred soldiers moved in perfect harmony according to my instructions.

Ordinarily, directing each individual would be nearly impossible—

'This is incredible.'

—Ding!

——————————————

Name: Arthur Amilion

Age: 27

Traits: [Lame], [Weak Body], [Mana Sensitivity], [Telepathy], [Accelerated Thought]

——————————————

Of all my traits, [Accelerated Thought] was by far the most exceptional.

I hadn’t assigned this trait myself, yet there it was, firmly displayed in my status window.

This meant it was an inherent trait of Arthur Amilion.

Why such a remarkable trait belonged to a scoundrel commander, I couldn’t fathom.

But for me, it was undoubtedly a blessing.

Thanks to this trait, I could send telepathic instructions to over a hundred soldiers simultaneously.

—Thud —Tap —Whoosh

Though there was resistance, the soldiers moved as directed by my telepathy.

Their movements were still clumsy and uncoordinated, but that was to be expected.

The important part was that every soldier follows orders without exception.

"Huff... Huff! When will this end...?"

I could feel the soldiers nearing their limits.

The training had lasted five hours, balancing intensity with stamina, but it was still a grueling ordeal for soldiers who had not trained properly.

Was this training meant to hone their combat senses?

'Not at all.'

It wasn’t an efficient or meaningful set of drills.

While unnecessary for the soldiers, it was vital for me.

They needed to become accustomed to [Telepathy].

'I have to ensure the soldiers avoid any physical contact with each other.'

This exercise was akin to solving a puzzle.

I had to view all the scattered pieces and align them perfectly, even as they shifted shape by the second.

A single misstep could lead to injuries among the soldiers.

It was a risky method given the situation where every soldier counted, but the more challenging the path, the greater the rewards.

Whether in the real world, a game, or this place, it was a universal truth.

—Swoosh —Shhh

Amidst the telepathy, one soldier stood out.

"...That guy."

Though he appeared to move like everyone else, there was something off.

With [Accelerated Thought], I could see every tiny detail.

Before receiving my telepathic instruction, he instinctively reacted to a training sword swung by another soldier.

I hadn’t given him that command.

A soldier who hadn’t trained couldn’t possibly do that.

A soldier... or perhaps not.

[Come to my tent after training.]

There was no need to give him further instructions.

Even with a blindfold, he reacted to the air’s flow and surrounding sounds—he was already a complete warrior.

This person didn’t belong on this battlefield.

"Hmm..."

By now, the sun had dipped below the mountains.

The soldiers were at their limit, and the day had grown late.

It seemed like it was finally time to end the training.

…More importantly, the headache was becoming unbearable.

[Everyone, stop all movements.]

The soldiers, breathing heavily, barely managed to stand as they received my telepathic command.

Ideally, I would have liked to follow up the training with physical conditioning, but pushing them too hard on the first day might trigger a mutiny.

I would have to be content with this much.

[Today's training is over. Everyone, take a break.]

With that, I quickly descended from the platform and headed to my barracks.

The throbbing pain behind my eyes and the physical dissonance that hit me as I released [Accelerated Thought] were intense.

For the soldiers, it had only been five hours of training. However, with my accelerated thoughts, I had experienced ten times that—nearly fifty hours' worth of strain.

—Drip

"Tsk..."

A frail body, overused abilities.

Red droplets dripped from my nose, trailing down my face.

***

That night, after the training ended.

The soldiers gathered in the mess hall, blindfolds removed, and voiced their complaints.

Most of the grievances were about the day's training.

"Even if he is the commander, wasn't that training ridiculous? He said to prepare for battle, but what? Training with blindfolds? We're not fighting blind men, are we?"

"Exactly. I've never heard of a training method like this before."

Training while blindfolded.

Even though Arthur was giving precise instructions, the soldiers weren't used to moving without sight. It was only natural they would resist.

Moreover, the telepathic instructions were not what they had expected.

[Tilt your body 45 degrees to the right, perform a wide horizontal slash forward, then take two steps back, a bit wider than your normal stride.]

Normally, training involved soldiers adapting to the commander’s tactics, but this was different. Each movement was dictated, keeping them in constant motion.

It was physically and mentally more exhausting than swinging a sword a thousand times.

Some even grumbled that if they were going to be treated like puppets, they might as well use actual mannequins instead of soldiers.

However, not everyone agreed.

"...Did none of you notice anything?"

"Notice what? Other than realizing the commander is a madman—haha!"

At that, the soldiers burst into laughter.

But not all of them were laughing.

"Yeah... He's a madman, alright. But think about it. Were there any injuries today?"

"Injuries? From swinging wooden swords? Get real."

"Think about it. Over a hundred people, all blindfolded, swinging wooden swords. Even if they're just training weapons, we were packed so closely together, yet no one got hurt. How is that possible?"

"Now that you mention it..."

The laughter slowly died down.

Today, every single soldier had moved according to Arthur’s telepathic instructions.

But not a single collision, not a single injury—what did that mean?

When the soldiers reached their limits, the training had stopped.

Despite differences in physical strength and stamina, the training ended simultaneously for everyone. This meant the intensity of the training had been tailored individually.

The sharper soldiers were beginning to catch on.

"As unbelievable as it sounds, I think the commander gave each of us individual instructions... all at the same time."

"What? That's not something a human can do!"

"...When Sir Arthur called you, what did he say?"

At this question, the soldiers simultaneously responded.

"He called us by our names—"

Every single one of them had the same answer, down to the exact wording.

Even a fool could understand what this meant.

The soldiers exchanged bewildered looks, mouths agape in shock.

"He... he called you by name too?"

"Y-Yeah! He definitely called me Phlox."

"...He called me Hans, by my name too."

In an instant, a heavy silence fell over the mess hall.

A training regimen where the commander memorized each soldier's name and perfectly understood their physical limits.

Amidst the silence born from shock, someone let out a hollow laugh.

"...He's a madman."

This time, the word "madman" carried a completely different meaning.

And no one argued against it.