“Orkus, you fool. The difference between a First Ordeal and an Ordinary is not absolute as it is upon later Ordeals… and besides, you’ve only overcome your First Ordeal a few months ago.” Mance said, picking up Orkus.

“Get healed. Swallow your useless pride and go train.”

Orkus bit his lips bloody with a nod and headed away to retrieve his clothing and armor while Osias watched.

‘Serves him right. Bastard using his Ordeal Ability like that…’

Though Osias understood that in the same position, he would do the same as Orkus… he is a foul taste to experience the cunning of the man himself.

Mance turned to him and inspected his body once more… a familiar sight.

“You fight well. Fierce and cruel, but well.” He said, stroking his beard.

“It’d be foolish to force you to change the way you fight. Imparting our weapon techniques and style to you would do nothing well.”

“Who taught you to control your essence?” Mance inquired, studying his stature once more with a pensive face.

“My brother.” He responded curtly, but proudly.

“Your brother…” Mance echoed.

“Say, answer me truthfully. Have you ventured into the Outer Valleys? Killed Path Beasts?” Mance asked.

Osias nodded. “I’ve slain First Ordeal Path Beasts before. Alone at times too.”

It was time for Mance to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“Boy, is that the truth? We need a party of three First Ordeals to take one without losses. Perhaps if the beast was the weakest of the First…” Mance trailed off.

“Mm. I know.”

Mance chuckled a bit before replying:

“Your battle strength as an Ordinary is great, no beyond that. In a sense, you’re practically a First Ordeal without an ability. Though… what do you wish for training like this?”

“I want to undergo the First Ordeal. Also… I need to know if I am ready, so I’m using the clansmen in this way.”

“I see. I see.” Mance said, but he looked to be in thought. Osias waited, considering if he should add something more, but Mance responded first.

“I’ll personally teach you how.” Mance declared, but he paused before adding, “But first, continue to spar more. That will prove all you need to know... and I also need these clansmen of ours to change their ways. The other Second Ordeals have voiced their complaints when these green ones have joined them on the outings outside. Sorry, you’ll be hated, but it’ll help the clan. ”

Osias nodded, after all, he was planning to do so anyway. But first, he rushed towards the healers. His throat still burned intensely and his eyes were affected as well, but he was full of vigor. The match lowered his expectations greatly against these Path Finders…

‘They are not like our Blood Warriors.’ He quickly surmised.

Was this the difference between them? The Red Sky threw mere Ordinaries into raids north, against villages and cities. They ravaged and fought fervently, and whoever died was considered weak, and was forgotten. A waste of blood.

…Was the value of strength so little amongst these people? It couldn’t be, otherwise, Aeron, Henrik, Mance, and the others wouldn’t feel so strong.

But the standards of these Ordinaries and First Ordeals… Osias couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

In the next moment, Osias found himself in front of a kind-looking older man. Grey grizzled hair and a face lined with age.

‘First Ordeal…’

“Here boy, you fought hard.” The old man said, reaching towards Osias.

The old man motioned Osias to touch his hand, and he obliged. Then the wrinkled hand grasped his arm and Osias felt a cold shiver spread into his body, more specifically his throat and airway.

“Ah, Thank you—” Osias said timidly.

“Gered Grimm. Though you needn’t thank this old man, this is all I can do for you all.”

‘It’s slow, weaker than most Blood Mends I’ve seen, but I have no complaints…’ He thought to himself as he studied the process of Gered’s Ordeal Ability.

He stayed by Gered for what could’ve been an hour until Osias judged that it was enough to spar once more. Though if it was up to him, he didn’t feel as though he needed to be healed to fight again.

Getting up to his feet, he was about to thank the old man again before a piercing voice cut through the air.

“Nico! Face Osias in the open field. You’re allowed to use your Ordeal Ability and wear your armor.”

Then Gered pushed him along with a gentle smile. “Go now boy, I wish you luck.”

Osias simply nodded his head in thanks as he thought to himself. ‘Clan Grimm… it's like the demeanor of Aeron has spread to all those under him… except that fire mongrel.’

He turned his head with a small sneer, eyeing the other healer who was taking her time healing the many cuts that littered Orkus’s body.

Then as he returned to the open field that Mance called, he faced down his next partner.

It was a dark-haired older man with bronze skin, short and stout. He looked like a heavy barrel with the black armor that encased him. The air around him… was heavier, to say the least. His eyes as well, focused and placid. More experienced and keen on killing Osias. He wielded a great battle axe that fits firmly between the clasps of his menacing gauntlets.

‘Is that blood stained on it?’ Osias noticed as he got closer.

“Thanks for shutting up that fool earlier.” The man named Nico said in a low gruff.

“Bastard always uses his mouth to reel you in before he torches you. We all knew it was coming, maybe that’s why Mance threw him to you.” He continued.

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‘Well… this one seems better.’ Osias inwardly thought.

“I won’t tell you my ability though, sorry. Mance pulled me aside and told me you’re strong despite not undergoing an Ordeal.”

“It’s fine.” Osias waved off.

And then as though they both knew the talk was over, they poised themselves. Osias actually found himself enjoying this… after all, he hadn’t fought with other humans aside from Kiran.

It was different. They possessed all sorts of Ordeal Abilities, just like beasts do, but it felt more… thoughtful.

‘I’ll need to ask though… why everyone seems to not possess the same Ordeal Ability.’

Nico approached Osias, a stark difference from what happened earlier with Orkus. But Osias didn’t waver as he met him.

The distance between them closed, and Osias made the first move as he brought his great sword to the side and swung in a vicious arc to Nico’s head.

But the heavy sword was caught firmly by Nico’s black spiked gauntlet. With a heavy grunt, Nico engaged Osias and grounded himself before aiming to cleave Osias whole.

Alarmed, Osias let go of his sword, abandoning it as he evaded the single-armed swing of the axe.

‘He’s serious.’

Osias retreated a little before Nico threw his great sword far away behind him, almost hitting a poor pair of trainees, earning a pep-angered yell that they both disregarded.

Now, Osias wished he had Kiran’s True Extraction…

Nico continued to walk him down, forcing Osias to do something against the stalwart and indomitable figure.

His foe’s steps were steady and confident, still not underestimating Osias despite him being unarmed. Perhaps he caught wind of his unnatural strength despite being an Ordinary.

Osias didn’t like fighting like this, it was too easy to get enraptured in the fervor of battle.

‘It’s like that time with the boar.’

‘Do I gouge his eyes? Crush his throat?’

But Osias reconsidered, Nico didn’t seem deserving of such wounds, even if they could be healed. Possibly.

Osias exhaled deeply, and then he exploded forth, each step kicking up the dirt in a mad dash. He’s steady and patient.

But he’s a person, so he’ll bite on deception. Just like the ones Osias fell to from Kiran so many times and was punished dearly for it.

Nico brought his axe close, waiting for the right time to swing in a crushing blow — one swing is all it would take.

But Osias lunged to Nico's left side like a feral dog, his body shifting as if preparing to dive past the axe. Nico reacted instinctively, his axe slicing through the air toward him. But it was a ruse—a split-second misdirection.

Osias shifted his weight at the last moment, using the force of his dash to push past Nico's guard, driving himself forward with unexpected speed. Before Nico could recover from the swing, Osias was already within his reach.

With a fierce grip, Osias grabbed a hold of Nico’s armored arm and pulled heavily, throwing his balance off. As Nico staggered with a grunt, Osias caught hold of Nico’s back and clamped his hand around Nico's neck, his fingers digging into the tough, sinewy flesh.

The force behind the grip was surprising, as Nico hacked and gasped—his unnatural strength surging as he held Nico in place.

Nico’s eyes widened in shock, his breath caught in his throat from his slight moment of mistake. The great axe fell from Nico's hand, clattering uselessly to the ground as he reached up to pry Osias's hand from his neck.

However, as Nico hunched over, something unsettling washed over Osias.

But Osias's grip grew even more unyielding, abandoning his prior mercy for Nico as now instead of stealing the air from him, Osias sought to crush it whole.

For a moment, everything stood still — until a deep rumbling exuded off Nico’s body.

Somewhere in the crevices of Nico’s armor, somewhere Osias didn’t notice was unprotected, exploded forth and Osias felt an immense force grasp him from behind, wrapping around his torso as his body and his hands were thrown off from Nico forcefully. He was flung through the air and at a vicious speed crashed against the ground, his arm bent unnaturally.

Osias gasped and heaved for breath — an unwanted reversal of roles from mere moments prior. From the haze that covered his vision, he saw Nico barrel towards him in the distance, different as well.

From Nico’s rear, a tail, grey and serpentine waved in the air.

‘He has a tail?’

There it was… the air of danger that radiated off of Nico. His Ordeal Ability in its entirety. Osias was experiencing this raw power within that tail. It could bludgeon him. Constrict him. Throw him.

A versatile Ordeal Ability. But then Osias felt like laughing to himself.

‘Is this one of those… Tailed ones, but under Clan Grimm?’

Upon this revelation, Osias’s intensity only increased. To test his strength against someone like this… he wanted so badly.

He re-engaged once more. If Nico was here instead of inland, or even outside with Aeron and the rest of the company, Osias assumed that Nico didn’t have it.

Osias doubted if Nico had ever found himself facing a hopeless battle. Clawing for life in a struggle. Nico felt resilient, and experienced, but Osias felt he had just had that fervor inside that Nico didn’t.

So Osias continued. Aggressive. Domineering. Fierce, all he knew to do. He grabbed another handful of dirt, reminiscing of his training with Kiran as he bolted towards the tailed and armored warrior in front of him. Osias won’t allow Nico to dictate the pace, he’ll engage and put pressure on him instead.

Violence… was what Osias sought from his style. The very act of battle in and of itself was violent, but he wanted to revolve it around something above violence, like the desperate clawing for life, to survive. Fight to survive.

Unknowingly, he snarled as he dodged the rapid tail that sought to cave his head in. It turned into a ferocious melee, Osias even battering the gaps and chinks in Nico’s armor, even laying dents into it.

Osias has boundless essence at his disposal, but even so, he doesn’t let his control and sophistication waver. His movements were sharp, his blows were heavy — he was bold.

Blood Mend? He fought as though he already surpassed his First Ordeal… he’ll get healed later! It was the same thing.

At last, Osias could fight as he always wished, disregarding his body.

Dodging another crushing blow that almost flattened him into a pan, Osias stomped fiercely onto the tail with a sickening crunch, before leaping and rolling to the side, throwing the dirt into the face of Nico.

But Nico brought a battered grey tail to block the debris, while Osias closed in once more. It was all Osias needed to throw off Nico’s balance.

‘He needs even more experience… that weight behind him is long is unnatural, he needs time.’ Osias thought as he lowered his stance and wrapped both arms around Nico.

He lifted Nico off his feet with a feral roar, just enough to bring him to the ground. Osias circled around, avoiding the lashing tail, and brought both his hands together into a great hammer made of fists as his knuckles turned white.

He swung down and hammered against Nico’s torso, where his armor was already dented from minutes of beating him on his feet.

A sickening crunch of metal and Osias’s flesh and bone crashed through the air. Osias repeated this until either Nico yielded as his chest caved in, or Osias’s arms gave out.

Blood splattered, both from his ruptured arms and Nico’s mouth.

Then out of the corner of his eye, Osias ducked as a fierce wind blew from behind.

Nico’s tail was wrapped around the shaft of his great axe through the chaos of the scramble, and as he was being pummeled, he was attempting to cleave Osias into two.

Osias didn’t want to bash Nico’s head in, so he lept off the body of Nico and allowed him to stand before another arc of his axe waved through the air.

He felt the ground below his feet shift, bearing his weight. He breathed heavy breaths, as did Nico who stood to his feet, supported by his tail. Nico gripped the axe once more and poised himself as he did before.

‘I’m going to lose if—’

“Enough. That was a fine battle.” Mance's voice sounded right behind Osias.

Osias quickly turned around in surprise. He didn’t notice the presence of Mance, as he could’ve sworn that he saw Mance guiding the other clansmen in their own battles.

In the next moment, Nico’s tail retracted, returning to his body as he dragged himself towards Osias and Mance.

“You’re… unfoundedly strong as an Ordinary. More than your physical might — no, you use it better than just a brigand as I heard.” Nico said in his gruff voice.

‘Again with the brigand appearance…’ Osias thought with a frown.

But he accepted the praise and a nod before asking:

“And you, Nico? You’re plenty strong yourself. I can’t see you faltering against that Orkus.”

“Bah, the bastard started close, and the next moment I found myself facing a tongue of fire.” Nico huffed out.

“Nico here is not of Clan Grimm. He was a First Tail under the Tailed Brothers — the true main clan. He was sent here for experience amongst Path Beasts as punishment.” Mance interjected.

“Punishment?” Osias curiously asked as he wiped his sword.

But instead of Mance, it was Nico who filled him in.

“I killed another of the main clan along with someone else I shouldn’t have killed.” Nico scoffed.

Osias stifled a laugh at the sudden, but bold confession.

It was… fun. Osias couldn’t help himself from liking Nico as a person, regardless of who and what he was.