Sugimoto had never imagined.
That he would become the key to winning the first stage of this massive training camp.
While everyone else was caught up in the heat of battle.
He had followed Senior Shinjuro's instructions and taken a long detour alone.
It had been a little slow.
But he had indeed found the enemy flag.
Yet when he finally reached the enemy's high ground, he saw two Senior soldiers from the White Team standing there.
At first, he had felt rather apprehensive.
This was one against two.
And the markings on one Swordsman's body clearly indicated a higher rank than his own.
An Elite Swordsman.
But he had gritted his teeth and gone in anyway.
Captain Kurumaji trained me. I can't chicken out!
Much less embarrass him on an occasion like this.
After several minutes of bitter fighting, however, he looked at the Senior and Elite he had knocked to the ground.
Looking at their team emblems.
Sugimoto began doubting himself.
These two guys.
Why were they so much weaker than he had imagined?
He had even prepared himself to lose at first.
Yet these two, never mind comparing them to monsters like Fox Bro and Yūza back at the dojo.
They did not even meet the average standard of Swordsmen of the same rank at the Kūmachiza Dojo...
This Elite Swordsman was about equal to him, someone at [Late Senior].
He could even say that he himself had held a slight advantage.
Were the Swordsmen from Kansai and Kantō really all this mediocre?
What Sugimoto did not know was.
Compared with other Swordsmen, those who had undergone hellish training in the Northern Borderlands.
Even if they shared the same rank or physique.
There was still a clear gap in their actual combat strength.
The experience accumulated from