“You are powerful. But that doesn’t mean that you can do anything you want,” Pillen sighed, his arms crossed. “We need to set some rules. Normally, you would have learned them if you came here the correct way, but given your circumstances, I will have to teach you.”
Shaden nodded, his lips tightly shut. Pillen’s wrath had subsided quickly enough, but the anger he’d seen in those few seconds had been enough to make him quiet.
“First, don’t use magic unless you’re told to do so,” he said. “Second, we always move around as a group here. Strategies only work when we work together. Don’t go off and do things on your own, and I know you can disappear. Third, when using the blast rod, or any kind of weapon, always follow my instructions. Don’t go ahead because you think you can do it, because clearly, you couldn’t.”
“I did line the barrel,” Shaden said. “It was just that I didn’t think of—”
“Fourth, no complaining,” Pillen interrupted. “Are you going to complain if you die on the battlefield? It’s only the results that matter and the outcome says everything. Do as you’re told. That’s all I ask for. If that is too much for you, then you’ve failed as a soldier.”
Not like I wanted to do this, Shaden wanted to say. But if he quit now, where would he go? He didn’t want to be labeled as a quitter.
“I’ll do as I’m told,” he stated, and Pillen nodded.
There was a reason why Shaden felt more inclined to trust the young man. Before anything else, even in his fury, he’d made sure that Shaden hadn’t been hurt, quickly examining his body for any injuries. None had been found, and Shaden had quickly explained that he could use healing magic.
“Last of all, don’t rely too much on healing magic,” Pillen said, “especially during training. If you rely on it too much, you won’t improve. It’s the threat of a permanent injury that sharpens the mind and hones the body. Use it only when you must.”
Shaden hated being in pain. But he nodded anyway.
“Okay. How much mana can you exert?”
“I don’t have a limit, really,” Shaden answered.
“Maybe you haven’t experienced going to your limits yet,” Pillen guessed. “We’ll try to push you past your limits as much as we can.”
Shaden knew that it likely wouldn’t happen, but he looked forward to it. “Is circulating allowed?” he asked.
“Mana strengthening is common sense,” Pillen told him. “I assume you know how to control the output? It would be bad if you overexerted yourself. I tend to save my energy during training because you never know what will come afterwards.”
“Yes,” Shaden replied, though it wouldn’t matter to him. Strong or weak, his flow would never cease as long as he was alive. At least, it had been that way until now. He didn’t think that it would change anytime soon.
“Okay,” Pillen sighed. “Let’s get back.”
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“I hate the army,” Demund decided, placing his head on his arms. “It feels like I can’t breathe when I’m in there.”
“You’re complaining because you’re bad at the game,” Rhyne smirked, his fingers flying over the controller. “Or am I just too good?”
“Dude, you’re literally seeing things in slow motion. Of course you’re gonna be good,” Riley sighed, setting down his controller. “Can you not use your power for once?”
“I’m not,” Rhyne chuckled, tapping on his head. “It’s all skill. If I used my power, no one would stand a chance.”
“If only I was my dream self,” Demund said, “then I would be able to beat you.”
“Oh, keep on dreaming,” Rhyne told him. “Maybe in a million years.”
After Christmas, Rhyne had invited Demund and Riley over to his house to play some games and hang out. Since Demund wouldn’t be able to be around when New Year’s Eve came, they’d decided that it would be better to play before he left—which was two days before the end of the year. Demund wasn’t a huge fan of games, but when he played with his friends, it was more than enough fun. Though looking at the characters that ran around tirelessly while dodging bullets, he wondered if it would be possible for people who couldn’t circulate or use magic. Maybe with the assistance of advanced drugs or superpowers. Or both.
“How much training do you think these soldiers go through?” Demund asked his friends, inspecting the muscular gunner with a metal arm.
“None, because they’re not real,” Rhyne replied.
“Huh.”
“I’m kidding. There was a backstory in the story mode. I think it was mixed with the tutorial,” Rhyne said, quickly setting up his loadout for the next round. “They do a lot. Training from hell is what it’s called.”
“Training from hell?”
“Yeah, like doing a hellish parkour course or jumping from a plane alone into a mountain where you have to survive until you get back to the base.”
“Those are bad, but I think they’re doable,” Demund sighed, leaning back on his seat. “The worst part about training is the repetition.”
“Repetition?”
“Yeah. I’ve been doing some training, and—”
“The dream thing again?” Rhyne frowned. “I mean, go on.”
“Er—only if you’re interested.”
They exchanged awkward looks, but thankfully, Riley broke the silence by shouting that the round had begun and that they’d both have to concentrate because he’d accidentally set the difficulty to insane. After Rhyne was taken out instantly after turning a corner, the mood shifted, and facing a common enemy, they shouted and mashed their controllers until they were able to revive Rhyne—after which he began to use his power. Demund even circulated, and though his mechanics were horrible, managed to take down a few enemies.
“Ho, the skills!” Rhyne cheered, impressed. “Those were some insane plays.”
“I’m good when I concentrate,” Demund smiled.
“Must be why you’re so good at studying,” Riley commented with a large sigh. “All I can do is feel calm after getting my butt wiped.”
“Hey, it makes you feel mature.”
“I’d rather see things in slow-mo than be mature,” Riley humphed, “but okay. Doesn’t matter. I’m going to get a girlfriend before you.”
“No way. Do you know how many confessions I’ve gotten until now?”
“Two. One was a prank, and the other was from a kid.”
“Still more than you. How about you, Demund? Gotten any confessions before?”
The two of them looked at him, and he looked back, his eyes becoming larger. “Me? I don’t think so.”
“Not once? Not even in your dream?”
“No,” Demund said. “I was never the popular guy. In my dream—well, things are complicated.”
Did what Mistillia do to him count as a confession? Or Eilae’s indirect ways of showing affection? No, but he’d never been blatantly confessed to. Spending time among men who bulged with muscles, he wasn’t sure if he was popular with girls anymore. The guys loved him, but Nicar didn’t. Or he thought so. She hadn’t particularly cared about him.
“That’s sad. You’re pretty cool.”
“Hey, I’m cool, but I haven’t gotten any confessions,” Riley said.
“What? How about Ennie?”
“That was first grade. Doesn’t count.”
“Oh right, you were too shy.” Rhyne’s face lit up. “Oh! Remember that time when she wanted to sit next to you, but you refused and she cried? And she never talked to you again.”
“Stop,” Riley groaned. “I don’t want to remember the past anymore.”
“Let your ability help you,” Rhyne laughed.
“It doesn’t work like that,” Riley muttered.
Demund felt a bit out of place when the two began recalling their memories like that, but he liked listening to them. The two were very talkative with each other, and he knew that their friendship ran a deep way, much like him and Jothan—except that they had been able to stay together even in high school. As much as he liked the two, there seemed to be a barrier which he couldn’t pass through, a deep connection which he couldn’t be a part of. That, and they just shared too many memories that he wasn’t a part of.
Time would change it—he knew that. But at the moment, he doubted if he truly belonged. Maybe it was his life as Shaden that was getting to his head, but he hadn’t felt like he belonged anywhere for a while.
“Gah, this guy has been annoying me since preschool,” Riley groaned, getting up. “I need a glass of water for this.”
“Don’t be sad if I get a girlfriend first,” Rhyne teased. “Or maybe, you might be the first. You’ve been hanging out with Enariss awfully a lot.”
Demund blinked. “Me?”
“Yeah. Aren’t you guys dating at this point? She doesn't see anyone as often as she does you. And what was up with you two during Christmas?”
There was a smile on Rhyne’s lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“She’s a great friend,” Demund answered.
“So...she friend-zoned you?”
Riley had returned with his cup, and he was eyeing them cautiously, slowly gulping—the sound of swallowing was too obvious.
“I don’t know,” Demund said. “I’m not sure what she thinks.”
“So you do want to date her.”
“I don’t know.” Demund looked at his hands. “I kinda want things to remain this way.”
He didn’t want to talk about Enariss’s personal matters, even with his friends. Rhyne didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but he snorted and went on.
“Okay,” he concluded. “Next round, let’s go! Whatcha doing, Riley?”
“Just drinking water,” Riley muttered. “Next round. Let’s go!”
They began to play again, though the feeling of unease lingered in Demund’s mind. He did want things to remain the way they were. He was satisfied with his friendships and the small heart-fluttering moments he had with Enariss. But they were growing up, and they were changing. Himself included. Was it bad to linger on the past, or would he have to be someone different?
He wondered. But now was the time to improve. After the Junior’s Advancement, what would happen to him? Would he succeed? Would he become more popular at school? Or more hated? If he did win, what would Enariss think of him?
He wondered what Jothan might be doing. It would be simple for him since all he had to do was follow the Preliminary Islands’ programs. Do well, he’d become a hero. Do badly, he’d still get a good-paying, respectable job. The future was set for him, and Demund was still finding his way.
At least for now, he’d try his best to reach where Jothan was headed to—where Enariss was headed to.
With the experience from another world, he was sure he would succeed.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“One, two, three, one! One, two, three, two!”
“Put those legs up! Is this all you’re made of!”
The shouting of the soldiers echoed through the clearing, though no one was around to hear it. Shaden wanted to get up and leave, but he knew that doing so would brand him as a failure. After all, he had said with confidence that he’d be able to get through.
“…one, two, three, sixty! One, two, three, sixty-one!”
Repetition. Shaden knew that it was good for studying, and probably for training as well—but this kind of repetition didn’t make any sense. The same action, over and over. And when that was done, another action—again and again.
They’d been doing it for three hours now, with only a few breaks in between.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Stop! Who dares to lower their legs!”
Numerous grunts came out from the soldiers lying on the ground, and Shaden also gritted his teeth, wondering why they were wasting time with pointless things. Where were the specialized missions, the hunting? No; they all had their backs towards the dirt, swinging their legs up and down until they were told to stop. There was no limit—the action ended when the instructor wanted it to. When Pillen wanted it to. Shaden was beginning to loathe the man for his training program, but he’d promised to follow through.
It wasn’t very painful for him. He could heal if he ever got too sore, and circulating always kept his mentality in check. It was simply—boring. Pointless. He was cheating in a way. But that still didn’t make being tossed around like a slave feel any better.
No one in the squad was exempt. When Pillen was done, the vice-leader—Enov—took over as the instructor. Everyone was drenched with sweat now despite the cool weather, and Shaden’s clothes were grimy with dirt.
“Five minutes of rest,” Pillen said, and everyone dropped their legs. Shaden sighed, blinking the sweat away. It was a good workout. Just—it was all that they’d done. For a week. That and running. They’d run out of the fort with their heavy bags, travel for around two hours, go through exercises in the morning, eat lunch, exercise again, then return to the fort for the night. He hated it. There was also a no-question policy, and because he’d eaten with the squadron members for the training week, he hadn’t had the chance to ask the Nieuts. Pillen had simply told him to ‘follow through’ and trust him.
Shaden wondered what the point of it was. Make it so that he’d listen to orders well? He could do that already. Then again, it wasn’t only about him. They were in this together. And Pillen didn’t make it any better for him.
“Look at Shaden. He’s half your age, and he’s performing twice as well!” Pillen barked, walking around the fallen bodies. “You give it your best, understand?”
“Yes, sir!” they all croaked.
“Your voices are too soft. It seems like you haven’t exercised enough. On your feet—it’s time for leaping squats.”
They all scrambled up, Shaden copying them. He hated everyone for shouting softly.
“Leaping squads—go!”
“One, two, three, one! One, two, three, two…”
Lunch was still an hour away. Tomorrow would be the weekend, and Shaden had never looked forward to the weekend so much in his life. Though he wondered if they’d be allowed to rest.
“Good form,” Pillen nodded, walking up next to him. “Aren’t you men embarrassed? Being worse than a child?”
“Yes, sir!” they all screamed.
“Then bend those legs!”
Shaden glared at the back of Pillen’s head. Why the pressure? If only he’d done it lazily at the beginning. They would have understood because he was a child, but his haughtiness had gotten in front of him. Doing his best had been a foolish decision, because now, his mind felt like it would melt away repeating one, two, and three for hundreds, thousands of times. Judging by the way the others had been reprimanded, if he performed worse than before, he was sure to be punished.
Shaden groaned internally.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Shaden was ready to shower and sleep when they entered through the gates. His legs felt wobbly though they didn’t hurt. It reminded him of his time with Lytha, though her programs had been fun, and he’d learned quickly. But all he’d done this week was grueling repetitions of muscle and mental destruction.
“Alright, men,” Pillen said, waving his hand. “You did well. Get plenty of rest during the weekend, because next week, we’ll be outside for two weeks or more.”
“Will we have guard duty, sir?” Gel asked, and the others looked at Pillen in anticipation.
“None,” Pillen smiled. “Enjoy the weekend.”
They each gave small cheers, dissipating like gas from a balloon. Shaden was about to leave for his room as well when Pillen called for him, making his heart drop a little. Had he done something wrong? Come to think of it, he had let his new blast rod scrape the floor once or twice.
“It was a long week, wasn’t it?” Pillen sighed, placing a hand on Shaden’s shoulder. “I’m glad you came through. You’re incredible.”
“It was okay,” Shaden replied. “Was today the last day of exercising?”
“Yes. You didn’t like it?”
Shaden frowned and shook his head. “It was horrible,” he confessed.
“Haha, no one likes the repetitions,” Pillen laughed, “though I thought it may have been too simple for you. You looked very bored.”
“It was a little boring.”
“But now your muscles have loosened up, yeah? You’ll need the flexibility next week when we go climbing.”
Now that was something new. “Climbing? As in, mountain climbing?”
“Yes. It will be dangerous, though I’m sure you’ve experienced far worse.”
Not really, Shaden wanted to say. “I can do it,” he said instead.
“Excellent. Would you like to come to the Abode for dinner? I’m sure my father would like to listen to your thoughts on your training.”
Shaden didn’t particularly like being among them because of their cold, hard faces, but he guessed that it would be okay if Pillen was there with him. Besides, the food there, while similar, was better than the one they gave at the canteen. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Nicar was a good cook.
“Alright. When?”
“In around twenty minutes,” Pillen said, squinting at the sun. “I will come to pick you up.”
“Are you going to take a shower?”
“Yeah. I’m nasty right now.”
“In twenty minutes?”
“Twenty is plenty of time.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah, and don’t forget to clean your weapon as well.”
They separated, with Pillen heading to the Commander’s Abode while Shaden went to the living quarters. After a long day, setting his bag down on the ground felt great. He stretched then began to prepare. There was no time to waste. He grabbed spare clothes from his closet and was about to head out—
He paused. Something seemed off. Putting his clothes down on the bed, he went through the closet and its drawers.
Gone. The silver bracelet and the flute were still there, but the golden ring was gone. He’d taken them off for training as jewelry had not been allowed, and the ring had been stolen.
He felt anger build up inside of him. They would do it again? But this time, he’d find them himself. Before leaving, he’d put markers on all of his valuable items. By using the radar technique he’d learned from the book, he’d be able to sense and connect to them.
Jumping out of his window and landing with a thunk, he ran across the yard towards the marker. He’d expected it to be in the barracks, but the magic told him otherwise. Crossing between the canteen and the barracks, he arrived at the training grounds where targets had been set up in the distance. Thankfully, no one was practicing.
He approached one of the dummies and looked at the ground beside it. Forming a shovel out of his shadow, he scooped into the earth and tossed the dirt aside, digging deeper.
A small object wrapped in cloth revealed itself, and Shaden knelt and grabbed it, pulling it apart. The ring was inside, and the culprit was nowhere in sight.
He clenched his fists.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
“More thieves, you say?” the Commander said, slowly chewing on his meat roast. “One stole your ring.”
“Yes,” Shaden said. “I’m sure you’d know who it was because you’re keeping an eye on everything that goes around in the fortress.”
He didn’t know why Pillen was eyeing him worryingly, nor did Nicar’s eyebrow-raising make sense to him. Before he was a soldier, he was a guest, wasn’t he? Was this too much to ask for?
“I don’t have that much energy, nor do I care about petty thievery,” the Commander said, lowering his fork. “Life gives, life takes.”
“You’d allow robbers to stay in the fortress?”
“Father, I think Shaden is light-headed from the rolling I made him do,” Pillen interrupted with a nervous smile.
“No, no. Let the boy ask. He is at that age.”
This time, it was Benavon who looked up, though his eyes went back to the food. Perren simply stared at his father with a blank expression.
“The strong take from the weak,” the Commander went on. “Crime is punishable, yes, but if I show favoritism by searching for this thief for you, then ranks and positions would mean nothing, and order would come to a halt. No; you must deal with these things yourself.”
“That’s—but what about the law?”
“The law requires evidence, Shaden.”
“No. But you can sense everyone, right?”
“He has said that he doesn’t have energy to waste,” Nicar answered, her voice cool and clear. “I suggest keeping your ears open, trainee.”
Shaden blasted mana through his mind before his urge to smash his fist into the table won over.
“We possess little in this fortress,” the Commander stated, “and what people have will come to light sooner or later. If something is stolen, it will be found after a month or a year, and items will circulate until someone leaves the fortress with it.”
“You’ve had things stolen from you before?”
“Of course. Until I became a general, I would be robbed at least two times a year.”
Shaden scrunched his eyebrows. “So stealing is common around here.”
“Robbery is common everywhere. If you do not want to be robbed, prove to them that you will not be robbed.”
“By the way, Father,” Pillen interjected, “during the training, Shaden performed the best.”
“Did he?”
“Yes. He simply does not get tired…”
The conversation had shifted, albeit forcefully, and Shaden was irritated that nothing substantial had been achieved in the conversation. Was this a part of their culture as well? While the residents of the desert gave plentifully to travelers, did the people of the north steal from theirs?
Prove himself. How? Shaden hated being a soldier. It was worse after dinner because Pillen pulled him aside to talk to him. Or rather, scold him for his mistakes.
“You should never talk to Father like that outside of the Abode,” he warned, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “And you shouldn’t ask the Commander for favors. I told you before, haven’t I? If you have a problem, you should tell me first, then Nicar.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think that there was much you could do.”
“Shaden.”
Shaden froze. Pillen’s eyes had darkened, and the edge of his eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. Shaden felt his stomach clench. Had he messed up again?
“Whether you’re better or not, a soldier must obey and follow their superiors,” Pillen said in a low voice, “and you’re stationed under me. Any problem you have should be reported to me, not the Commander. I hated it too at first, believe me. My siblings would punish me whenever I told Father first. You don’t deserve that, but there are basic rules that have to be followed in this fort.”
“I understand,” Shaden said weakly. All those compliments and it only took one rebuke to nullify them.
Pillen sighed. “Well, it’s only your first week. Everyone here has already learned everything by the time they get here, so, naturally, you’re going to make mistakes. But remember, you shouldn’t repeat mistakes, because that is what a fool would do.”
“I understand.”
“Cheer up, yeah? Don’t let one mistake drag you down,” Pillen said with a pat on Shaden’s back.
“Yeah.”
“Then, enjoy your weekend. Tell me if you’re bored. I could show you around.”
“Yeah.”
Shaden left, his footsteps heavy. No one had given him a solution for the stealing. In the end, nothing had been solved.
He laughed weakly.
So, this was how it was going to be. They wanted him to improve? He’d show them. The next time someone put their hands on his belongings—
He’d know right away. And he had a good idea of how to. It would take a great deal of concentration and some experimentation, but he was confident that it would work.
After getting to his room, he sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. Power raged through his mind, and he transformed it into focusing on the life that resided inside of the fortress. Horses, donkeys, rats, and bugs—he would use the rats to his advantage.
When he’d been bonding with animals in the desert, he’d discovered that while he’d been able to bond with multiple animals at once, it was fairly difficult to listen to them all, similar to juggling many balls at once. If he focused on one animal, his grip on the other would loosen—and Eshel had told him that it was better to focus on one animal at once because communication wouldn’t be smooth.
The animal would also have to be close to him, since trying to bond through walls was like grasping for someone by just their voice. It was possible, but it wasn’t efficient.
But he had new abilities now.
He began to place markers on the rats. There were hundreds of them, though he couldn’t be bothered to use them all. A hundred seemed enough.
Taking in a deep breath, he began to bond through the connections he’d created with the rats, and each found its mark, sticking onto them like a homing missile. In a few moments, his head was being filled with thoughts of food, scraping, and scurrying, and he quickly weakened the bonds to keep himself from being overwhelmed.
He didn’t know how much mana he was using. Maybe someone would notice, but he decided to keep going. The Commander’s connections had barely been detectable, so his couldn’t be worse.
“Alright,” he told the rats. Or thought to them. “You will keep an eye out for robbers for me.”
The rats didn’t seem to understand.
“Spy on anyone who trespasses my territory,” Shaden rephrased. “You know what, a hundred is too much.”
He commanded ten of them to come to him. It was a short while before he opened the door to let the rodents in. They were dirty, ragged, and he regretted summoning them to where he slept. Quickly, he used detoxification magic on them.
“Okay,” he told the rats. “Live inside of this room starting now. I’ll create a house for you.”
The rats squealed, and Shaden surveyed his room, searching for a suitable location.
“Ah,” he decided, nearing the bed. Crouching down, he scanned the wall below and behind the bed. It would be the most unnoticeable place to put a hole through.
He was glad that the walls were fairly thick and made of stone. Though the bad thing was, there weren’t many places the rats traveled through here.
Shaden thought of another idea. Many of the rats resided in the space between the first and second floors. He’d have to dig a bit, but it would be much easier to connect to an existing residence rather than creating one himself.
He willed his shadow to form into a mouth, digging into the floor. After wood, he quickly made his way through the stone, creating a passageway. It took him a few moments to connect the two places, but through scanning the place, he knew he had succeeded.
‘“Okay. Try to move through there.”
The rats all formed a line, disappearing into the opening in the ground. After they’d traveled the whole path, he made them come back up again.
“Keep an eye out for people who enter the room, will you?” he asked the rats. “Remember the trespassers.”
He did the same with the other ninety he’d left to wander, and he hoped that the rats would somehow take shifts to guard the room. Of course, he could maintain his connection with them while he left for the training trip, but it would be too bothersome.
It was good that the rats understood what he was trying to convey. Unlike bugs, they could remember faces.
“I’m counting on you guys,” he said. They squealed back, standing on two legs and smelling the air. A personal army of vermin. He liked the sound of that. They would be his eyes while he was gone, his lookouts for any robbers that dared to come into the room.
And if they did—oh, if they did, he’d make an example of them.
⤙ ◯ ⤚
Shaden looked back one last time.
He’d spent the weekend continuously instructing the rats until they’d fully understood what he wanted of them. Now, he’d know if anyone intruded, and they would keep track of the person until he returned.
He could have taken his valuables with him or sealed the room with some earth magic. It didn’t sound as satisfying, and he’d feel like a worrywart who couldn’t handle things by himself. No; he’d let them take it. The ring and bracelet were nigh impossible to destroy, and the flute he’d hidden it deep inside of the stone wall. The Library pass he’d stuffed inside of his bed. That would tell him how desperate they’d been to rob him.
“Look forward, or you’ll trip,” Gel said. “An injured ankle would be detrimental.”
He was one of the kinder ones, like a softer version of Enov. Shaden nodded and turned his head towards the mountains.
How far away were they? Tens of kilometers? Over a hundred? Just thinking of walking to the summit drained his willpower and made him want to forfeit the mission. He’d managed so far with circulating and healing magic, but the time taken would never become any shorter.
Two weeks or more in the wilderness. At least they were finally doing something substantial. Their bags were stuffed with supplies, though after two days, they’d have to begin hunting. It was a true survival mission with their lives at stake. Monsters roamed the northern lands, and ferocious beasts went for any kind of prey that had meat on them.
Though Shaden didn’t worry much. If anything, he felt like he was risking something for once, going headfirst into the unknown. It was a sort of excitement he hadn’t felt since going to the Wall of Arrows. No—it was greater, similar to when Lytha had slung him over her shoulder.
He’d likely still be in the wilderness when the Junior’s Advancement arrived. Both selves, diving into the great unknown. Though amidst the expectation, a dull feeling of worry remained.
Shaden kept his eyes on the horizon.
It would work out somehow.