' Smiling uncertainty, from how Won spoke about it, I guess it must be quite peculiar. From my understanding it might be some kind of sentient creature, however, I cannot be sure.
Won refused to answer any other questions, and I didn't have the leisure to waste any more time. After a few minutes, Marco stopped helping me, the poor lad repaid me more than enough.'
Thus the struggle continued, as Nestor decided to embrace the ever-increasing pain. Indeed, both he and Nessa were the last trainees, taking on Cole's rapid-fire.
They were currently managing to hold on by taking turns, shouldering the lashes for one another. They wanted to give each other some respite, to slow down a little to take the whip in their stead for a moment.
Their coordination wasn't that bad, and Nessa had also taken out a black straight sword. She still fell short on Nestor's predictions but managed to block a few anyway.
What surprised Nestor the most, however, was her blood. It was bright red in color, like someone suffering from a carbon monoxide intoxication.
Furthermore, as soon as it made contact with anything other than her skin, it started to burn.
'The instructor doesn't mind our collaboration at all, on the contrary, he's now playing by our rules. To be fair, he didn't set any in the first place, he simply warned us not to complain about his methods.
Could it be..? But then what Won said earlier would hold less relevance. I'll try it, I'm not going to last more than ten minutes anyway.'
A new plan started to form in Nestor's mind, as risky as it may be, he would never know until he tried.
"Hey! Cough, Marco would you come here for a second?"
Nestor made one more effort, he shouted toward the duo ahead, trying to reach Marco's ears. His was come out cracked, his throat completely dry, the sweat coming down his eyes, giving him a painful sticky sensation.
He had almost peed himself a couple of times, as he already experienced a moment of extreme pain, but he wasn't as susceptible. However, during the last break, he was too tired to walk all the way to the toilet and now was on the verge of losing it.
The stress kept piling over him, as Nestor grimaced his face and almost begged for the young athlete to rush over and listen to what he had to convey.
The man was crumbling on himself, Marco didn't fail to notice it. As such, he slowed down his heavy steps, his left hand still holding on to the little Isaac.
'Appearances are often deceptive, the fourth-hour mark shouldn't be that far off and I've been shouldering this little pest for far too long. I don't know if I'll last until the next break, however, I can't leave him, nor can I give it back to Nessa.
What would even be the meaning of this second chance I've got if I'll end up abandoning them again.'
Sadness overcame Marco's senses, as memories of his past flooded in for a moment.
"Listen up, you too, Nessa come here. I've thought of a plan to get us out of this situation."
Then the trio had a small sprint, distancing themselves from Cole's position, as Nestor whispered the details of their next actions.
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Cole watched the whole process, curious about what they would try to pull off. Still eavesdropping on the group would simply spoil their fun, and reduce the possibility of them learning from their mistakes.
It didn't pass much time as Marco suddenly sprinted forward, aligning himself to Won, in turn, whispering into his ears.
"I see what you mean, it would be double, only if our little strategist truly has the stones for it. You don't have to worry about, failing or succeeding the plan won't change the final outcome. Keep in mind, in case we fail it'll hurt a lot."
Saying so, Won quickly increased his pace, and headed toward the two leading trainees.
Captain Cole had already followed Nestor and Nessa for a while since they formulated some kind of plan. Yet nothing happened so far, he also intentionally lessened the number of lashes he used to inflict upon them.
As he was finally running out of patience, he finally caught wind of what was happening.
In front of him, Won and Marco had come to a lot closer to Nestor and Nessa. However, as his eyes lingered further on he couldn't find either Green or Folen, the two had disappeared from sight.
Years of fighting and military training in rings below the city had sharpened his instincts to adapt against unforeseen events.
His investigative eyes and senses made a quick job to find out what really happened. Two small bumps emerged on the edges of the rack not far from him.
One had to say that they indeed put some effort into this stunt. The group of four had indeed positioned themselves in front of him, limiting his field of vision. Furthermore, Cole had been blinded by his curiosity and had mostly focused on the enemy strategist.
As Nestor was the one that conceived the plan, he must have given himself a major role in it. After all, how could he trust so easily people he had just met.
The knight had finally reached the exact height at which the two trainees hid under the hot sand. Probably due to urgency and fatigue, they couldn't hide their bodies that well, even leaving a part of their face sticking out, to breathe.
He could now see them all too well, any attempt of them ambushing him would definitely fail.
Suddenly Nestor stopped in his tracks, crouched, dodging the incoming whip, and lunged toward the instructor. His movement was decisive, he was holding his Khopesh in his right hand, while he focused every ounce of strength remaining on this final charge.
Cole remained calm, with a swift movent he recollected his whip, ready to strike again. He then readied his right arm, as if to execute the action he repeated too many times before.
However, to Nestor's surprise, nothing had come his way, making his abrupt sidestep utterly useless. Proving his predictions not to be as accurate as he thought.
Instead, the Captain's arms gained a strange light blue hue all around them, soon after Cole started to make some strange, nonsensical, gestures.
Soon after, shockingly enough, the two figures of Green and Cohnal found themself immobilized. The sand itself had come to life, while the duo tried to lunge toward the Captain the hot yellow grains had crept upon their bodies rendering them unable to move.
The ambush had utterly failed, as he imagined. However, by the time this happened, Nestor was already a few steps from Cole's position, leaping towards him holding his Khopesh high in the air.
As adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream, Nestor suddenly found Cole's whip coming straight for him. Such a move had been already anticipated, as his left arm was already in place, purposedly tanking the hit.
Nestor promptly clutched his left hand, grasping the hard leather fibers of the whip. Hoping to be able to use it to propel himself toward Cole, his Khopesh aiming straight for his chest.
Obviously not concerned about hurting the knight in the slightest. Not only was he in terrible conditions, but the weapon itself was too blunt to cause something worse than a bruise.
Nonetheless, the knight had taken this challenge seriously. He almost admired this cadet's guts, to rally all the other trainees against their instructors wasn't a common occasion.
A long silver halberd suddenly appeared on his right hand, as Cole intercepted Nestor's intentions, disrupting his line of action.
"You sure are bold, to rush into close-quarters combat against me like this. I'll make you learn from your arrogance. For have I been a real enemy, you would have endagered not only yourself."
Suddenly Nestor felt Cole's strong pull, as he started flying towards his direction, not feeling his left shoulder anymore. Yet he still held on, until his Khopesh finally hit the sharp silver blade of the knight's polearm.
Then a quick grip grabbed him by his neck, and a strong punch in his guts made Nestor cough out blood. His arms flailed on his sides until he dropped down the Khopesh.
Even so, before falling unconscious, the wide smile plastered on his face had confused the Captain.