Sara and Nick were the most experienced healers among the infirmary team.

Sara had long grey hair tied up in a ponytail, she wore a long grey shirt and a long white coat. She seemed quite professional and serious about her job.

Nick was the senior assistant and had remained with her to treat Red, who retained the most serious injuries. He seemed to be focused, evaluating Red's condition, he periodically alternated whispers with Sara.

The rest of the team hurried over to Nestor, as a couple of their special ointments would heal most ordinary wounds.

"Let me see what we got here. It's not a normal injury by any means, looking at the depth of the damage I can already tell it goes deeper. Still, I doubt his life is at risk.

We can heal him, It won't be easy though, we need to bring him over to the infirmary. A doctor is required."

Captain Cole knew, that at this point Red was in trouble. Requesting the help of a doctor meant that Red was hurt not only on a physical level but his soul had been damaged as well.

The decline of soul masters was no secret among the ranks of the council. After the first Consul descended deep into the lower rings, the Nobles faction together with the second Consul got to power. Even if some knew that their new agenda wouldn't benefit the republic, in the end too few tried to oppose them.

They had been cunning in their act, they started with strong propaganda, promising to remove the military conscripts and to negotiate peace with the Western Triad.

Alluring promises they were, especially the first. However many believed that by achieving peace with the Triad, they could keep the monster from below at bay. Of course only until the first Consul came back from his expedition.

The results weren't those they expected. Peace wasn't possible to achieve, the Nobles were a bunch of prideful lot that only knew to cultivate and manage the lands and weren't adept in the art of war at all. They had promised, with the confirmation of the second consul, to have the means to negotiate with the triad. They flaunted to possess connections with the Salhar Empire, even having a marriage with an imperial princess in the making.

They either didn't or had been made fun of by the Empire. It was too good to be true, a hope that shined so bright to blind everyone.

The initial failure didn't discourage them at all, on the contrary, with all the followers they gained their greed became boundless. The nobles' propaganda now bordered on higher wages for noncombat-related jobs and constructions for multiple entertainment districts. Important aspects especially for all the lost souls that arrived in Ceres through portals, as Nestor did. They came from different realities, and could never imagine the dangers of this place.

After which, their positions inside the political organ of the council got strengthened beyond belief. Only because of the second Consul's presence one couldn't consider this a coup d'etat. One had to be foolish to think that no violence was involved in their rise to power. Countless souls were felled only to be thrown among the damned of the undercity.

With this premise in mind, the Council's army started to weaken as centuries passed by. The first Consul was yet to be seen, and the triad managed to invade inside the ring of plenty.

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The senate had been completely taken over by the nobles, which now found themselves in a perilous situation. The ring of plenty was the beating heart of the council, their only source of primary supplies.

They couldn't lose it. Thus they reinstituted mandatory conscriptions, even if they didn't openly admit so, everyone knew it was. You either joined the army or you had to die. The council couldn't afford any freeloader, nor lose any potential slave.

Most trainees were called to fight at the front for the council after the first month of recruitment, choosing the soul master route was akin to suicide. Intentionally so, soul masters didn't have a growth limit, the older ones were the powerful backbone of the army and often refuted the nobles' foolish orders. They were wild cards that couldn't be disposed of.

Thus we arrived at the current situation, Cole, a powerful Captain Knight that could lead over a hundred men in battle had yet to fight one.

'No matter, I cannot blame it on the system, not this time. I underestimated Nestor's powers and as a result, Red could have remained crippled for life. Thankfully the fight stopped in time.

I will cover half the cost of his treatment. I can't do anymore or he'll lose a precious lesson. When you fight out there, you are betting far more than this. Never take your opponent lightly, or the next time the consequences won't be a monetary dept, but much worse.'

The noise outside woke him up, Nestor tried to move his stiff limbs in an attempt to stand up. Delighted to have won the duel, but still, he didn't dare to slack off his training. On the stage were Marco and Richard having their fight.

'I see Captain wants to see each one of us fight. Perhaps he wants to establish a chain of command, it's not such an uncommon thing after all when dealing with warfare on a larger scale.'

Marco was currently in a pinch, equipped with a trusty pair of spiked, Iron gloves for the first time, engaging against a spirit caller.

That's right, Richard like every other trainee, but Red, had received their first theoretical lesson at the Academy. He chose to bind together with one of the spirits the Academy had at disposal for the students.

Even if not particularly powerful they weren't weak either, they were quite pricey and the trainees had to often make a loan to acquire one this way.

However, it was still the most popular choice among the others. It was the safest, and the benefits were immediate, even giving you better chances to aspire to a better position in the army.

Strong gusts of wind spread out like arrows from Richard's fingers, at the same time he charged against Marco while wielding a pair of sharp simitars. Their golden hilt and curved ends gave off an air of nobility.

Marco quickly threw himself out of the wind's way, dodging to the side. He didn't try to block them not for the few cuts he would have received, those were negligible, but for the risk of getting pushed back near the border of the arena. Richard wasn't stupid after all and knew that there wasn't only one way to win the fight. Also, he wasn't like Red, who wished to inflict pain upon his adversary.

The duo now engaged in close combat, the scimitars were fast but lacked a proper form. They did seem quite fancy, but Richard was far from an expert in wielding them.

On the contrary, Marco was quite proficient with his fists, he was very agile and had a solid, basic form of footwork. In truth, in the past, he had practiced boxing for a couple of years.

It had helped him in the past, and thanks to this sport he managed to get out of a dark period in his life. Yet once in a match, he ended up seriously hurting his opponent. From then on he feared any kind of violence, to not hurt anybody ever again. Still, his passion for training was never lost, and he started going to the gym instead.

It all led to this moment, the psychological pressure, all the eyes fixated on you, stakes behind the match. Only, this time there were no rules, and this duel was that much closer to a fight to the death.

He was scared, to fail and not get up again, however, somehow, he had to find the strength within himself to keep going.

Suddenly, a familiar, hoarse voice unexpectedly, reached his ears.

"Come on Marco! Don't give up!"

Nestor wanted to somehow repay Marco for his help earlier, and that his injuries were starting to heal he had come over to watch the fight. Also, he was eager to start learning the two combat manuals he picked up a few days ago.

However before he could shout some other words of support for Marco, Cole's piercing gaze stopped him in his tracks.