The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity for Ethan and the other recruits. Though only five days had passed since their arrival, the sheer intensity of their training made it feel much longer. Each day was packed with drills, sparring sessions, and lectures on the fundamentals of prana channeling. The recruits were beginning to grow accustomed to the routines, and the initial awkwardness of handling their weapons was slowly giving way to familiarity.
Ethan spent much of his time not only practicing but also observing the others. He had come to admire Yara's poise and skill with her sword and pistol; her movements were precise and calculated, as if she had been born for combat. Iris, with her twin daggers, seemed to flow like water in battle, her agility a stark contrast to Yin Xue's measured, almost regal approach with her longsword. Herbie—ever the underdog—had become somewhat of a crowd favorite, wielding his mace with surprising efficiency despite his earlier struggles. Zane, now equipped with both a crossbow and a dagger, moved with a quiet intensity, his sharp eyes always scanning his surroundings.
In the evenings, the recruits would often gather in the common areas to compare notes and share stories about their training. Despite the grueling schedule, moments of camaraderie began to emerge. Herbie’s quick wit and self-deprecating humor often had the group in stitches, while Iris and Yara’s playful banter lightened the mood. Even Yin Xue, usually reserved, would occasionally offer a wry comment that left everyone laughing.
But Ethan’s evenings were different. While the others bonded, he often found himself retreating to the compound’s modest library. The room was small but well-stocked, with shelves lined with dusty tomes and scrolls detailing the history of the realm, the intricacies of prana channeling, and strategies for battle. Ethan would spend hours poring over these texts, his curiosity driving him to absorb as much information as possible. The more he read, the more he realized how vast and complex this new world was.
When he wasn’t buried in books, Ethan was tinkering with a radio he had obtained from the logistics unit. Though it was functional, its range was limited, and Ethan had taken it upon himself to improve it. Using scraps of metal and wiring he had scavenged from the training grounds, he experimented with different configurations, often losing track of time as he worked. The repetitive process of adjusting, testing, and readjusting was oddly soothing, a small reminder of the life he had left behind.
Despite the progress he was making, there was one thing that continued to haunt Ethan: the crimson-hued dreams. Every night, without fail, he would find himself in the same vision. The dream always began the same way—a vast, desolate landscape bathed in a crimson light. The air was thick with tension, and Ethan could feel his chest tighten as he stood there, unable to move. In the distance, a massive, indistinct figure loomed, its presence both terrifying and magnetic. The dream would end just as the figure began to stir, and Ethan would wake up drenched in sweat, his heart racing.
The dreams left him shaken but also strangely energized. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they meant something, though what that was, he couldn’t say. He chose not to share them with the others, keeping the visions to himself as he tried to make sense of them.
On the fifth day of training, the recruits were given a rare moment of respite during lunch. The atmosphere in the dining hall was livelier than usual, with the recruits swapping stories about their experiences. Ethan listened quietly, a small smile on his face as Herbie recounted an especially dramatic fall during a sparring session.
“I swear, I nearly took out three people on my way down,” Herbie said, his expression deadpan. The table erupted into laughter, and even Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle.
As the meal ended and the recruits made their way to the training grounds, Ethan felt a strange sense of contentment. Though the days had been hard, there was a rhythm to the training that was beginning to feel almost natural.
Their prana channeling exercises had also become more intuitive. Under Gabriel’s guidance, the recruits had learned to visualize their channels as rivers and their nodes as reservoirs, allowing prana to flow freely through their bodies. Ethan had struggled at first, his mind often wandering during the meditative exercises, but he was slowly starting to grasp the basics. The fleeting moments when he could feel the faint stirrings of prana within him were exhilarating, even if they were still inconsistent.
As the sun dipped below the horizon on the fifth day, Ethan sat on his bed, the radio’s latest configuration spread out before him. He adjusted a small dial, his brow furrowed in concentration, and held his breath as he flipped the switch. A faint crackle of static filled the air, followed by a faint, unfamiliar voice. Ethan’s eyes widened, a thrill coursing through him. The range had improved.
Satisfied with his progress, he set the radio aside and reached for his notebook. Flipping to a fresh page, he began jotting down everything he had learned about prana channeling, cross-referencing it with notes from the library. His handwriting grew messier as the page filled, his mind racing with possibilities. But as he wrote, a familiar unease crept over him. The crimson hue from his dreams lingered at the edges of his thoughts, a constant reminder of the unknown forces at play.
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Ethan closed the notebook with a sigh and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Despite his progress, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the brink of something far larger than he could comprehend. And as the end of the week approached, he knew that the challenges ahead would only grow more demanding.
The final day of the week arrived with an air of anticipation hanging over the training grounds. It was the day of reckoning—the culmination of five intense days of training and the beginning of the next phase in their journey. Himmel stood at the center of the sparring field, his hands on his hips as the recruits formed a loose semicircle around him. The usually lighthearted instructor now carried an air of seriousness, his eyes scanning the group with a keen intensity.
“Today, we’ll evaluate your progress,” Himmel began, his voice carrying easily over the murmurs of the recruits. “This isn’t just about how well you’ve learned to wield your weapons or channel prana. It’s about how you’ve adapted, how you’ve grown. And by the end of the day, you’ll know where you stand.”
A ripple of tension passed through the group. Himmel let the silence linger before continuing. “We’ll start with sparring matches. You’ll be paired off, and I want to see everything you’ve got. Hold nothing back. After that, we’ll move to the recruit ranking exchange. But for now, focus on the task at hand.”
The recruits were divided into pairs, each duo stepping into the sparring circle under Himmel’s watchful eye. The first match featured a tall, wiry recruit named Alec and a stocky young woman named Mei. Alec wielded a longsword with surprising grace, his movements fluid and deliberate. Mei, on the other hand, relied on sheer strength, her mace crashing down with enough force to make the ground tremble. Their bout was a clash of styles, with Alec narrowly claiming victory after a deft sidestep and counterstrike.
Next up were two more recruits: a brash, red-haired boy named Liam and a quiet girl named Hana. Liam charged in with twin axes, his reckless aggression almost overwhelming Hana, who wielded a staff. But Hana’s calm demeanor and precise strikes eventually turned the tide, and she managed to sweep Liam off his feet with a well-timed spin.
The matches continued, each one showcasing the recruits’ unique approaches to combat. There were cheers, groans, and moments of stunned silence as unexpected outcomes unfolded. Herbie’s match against a lean, sharp-eyed recruit named Darius was particularly entertaining; despite being knocked down multiple times, Herbie’s resilience and unorthodox tactics earned him a draw, much to the crowd’s delight.
Finally, it was Ethan’s turn. His opponent: Zane. The two stepped into the circle, their weapons at the ready. Ethan tightened his grip on his spear, its weight familiar yet still slightly awkward in his hands. Zane, holding his dagger in a reverse grip, gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
Himmel raised his hand. “Begin!”
Zane moved first, darting forward with startling speed. Ethan swung his spear in a wide arc, forcing Zane to back off. The range of the spear gave Ethan an advantage, but Zane’s agility was equally formidable. The first exchange set the tone for what would be a relentless back-and-forth battle.
Ethan tried to keep Zane at bay, using the spear’s reach to his advantage. He thrust, jabbed, and swung, but Zane’s movements were almost impossible to predict. The dagger flashed in the sunlight as Zane closed the distance, forcing Ethan to retreat. Despite his clumsiness, Ethan’s instincts were improving. He began to anticipate Zane’s movements, countering with quicker strikes.
The two exchanged over fifty moves, the intensity of their spar drawing the attention of the other recruits. “Come on, Ethan! Don’t let him get inside your guard!” Herbie shouted, his voice tinged with both encouragement and worry.
But Zane was relentless. In a sudden burst of speed, he feinted to the left before diving to the right, slipping past Ethan’s defenses. Ethan tried to recover, spinning his spear to block, but Zane was already inside his range. With a swift strike, Zane knocked the spear from Ethan’s hands. It flew through the air and landed with a dull thud just inches from Herbie, who yelped and scrambled backward.
The circle erupted in applause as Himmel stepped forward, clapping his hands. “Well done, both of you. Zane, your agility is impressive. Ethan, you’re starting to find your rhythm with that spear. Keep working on it.”
Ethan retrieved his weapon, his cheeks burning with both exertion and embarrassment. Zane gave him a small smile, offering a hand. “Good match.”
Ethan shook it, his grip firm. “Thanks. You’re fast.”
The next phase of the assessment involved ranged weapons. Himmel called Zane and Ethan to the range. Zane equipped his crossbow and Ethan notched an arrow to his bow.
“Accuracy is the name of the game here,” Himmel said. “You’ll each get three shots. Make them count.”
Zane went first, his crossbow’s bolts hitting their marks with precision. Though one veered slightly off-center, the other two were dead-on. “Solid,” Himmel said with a nod.
Finally, it was Ethan’s turn. He took a deep breath, recalling the basics Himmel had taught him earlier in the week. Drawing the bowstring felt more natural now, though his arm still quivered slightly from the strain. He aimed at the target 10 meters away and released. The first arrow hit the outer ring, the second landed closer to the center, and the third—to his surprise—was a near bullseye.
“Well, well,” Himmel said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Seems like you’ve got a knack for this.”
Ethan couldn’t help but grin, a small swell of pride in his chest. The recruits returned to their seats, and Himmel addressed the group. “Most of you have chosen the right weapons for yourselves, which is a good start.”
Himmel clapped his hands. “Now, listen up. Today’s assessments are just the beginning. Next month, we move into the recruit ranking exchange. It’ll be your first real test, an all-out battle to determine your ranks. Higher rankings mean better resources, better training, and yes, better treatment. So bring your A-game.”