[Military Zone 3, Military Sector 17]
A knife and a short blade flashed each other as sparks flew. The knife was quick, decisive, twisted and turned really fast. The short blade was dominant, just as swift, defensive, and defended quite well.
A young woman was facing down a young man. He looked vicious, feral. His eyes constantly looked around, re-evaluating his position and choices. He kept one eye on her and one eye on the open area around him. She kept repositioning herself between him and the most apparent exit.
It was difficult, though. There were many places to slip out. An extended show was the priority, as well as training for them. To the trained eye, it looked ridiculous. To a novice, this was a high-stakes showdown. That was the intention, so it was good enough if people were fooled.
Normally, she would’ve apprehended him within a few seconds, or he would’ve slipped out by now. The more open the space, the easier both became. They had to make mistakes, and they had to act dumb. It was counter-intuitive after living on the edge of life and death. Thus it became a thought exercise. Extended duels tested the endurance of the mind.
“You over there! Help me subdue this fool! I promise to split the bounty with you!” she yelled when she noticed someone in earshot.
When there was no response, she and he exchanged glances before shifting the path of the conflict in a very natural way. The Cadet remained undisturbed, unmoving. As they ‘turned’ the ‘circle’ of conflict, countless energy whips shot towards him.
“Brat, you should take care not to randomly intervene in things unrelated to you,” he tried to say persuasively as he struck at the whips.
To his shock, it was as though they did not exist. His short blade went through everything. Not understanding what just happened, he was slammed into the ground. He felt like an anchor point as something rushed towards him at terminal velocity. His abdomen was compressed under tremendous g forces. Spit and mucus splashed out as he struggled with the pain. His entire body was wrapped in a complex knot, every move almost like the bones within him might snap.
She rushed to his aid, disbelieving. It happened so suddenly. When the whips disappeared, the Cadet was gone. She was even given proof of his capture. There was a piece of fabric from the clothes. It matched the tear on his shirt.
“Did you see anything?” he asked in disbelief and fear.
“No, once the whips came out, he disappeared into them,” she said.
“They were literally an illusion until it wasn’t,” he breathed in and out to relieve the pain.
A few dozen meters from where they were, a male Cadet was running while adjusting his gauntlet. Between each knuckle was the tip of a laser pointer. They protruded as quickly as they retracted. Instantly.
A few meters behind him, a female Cadet kept pace, looking back, thinking about something.
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“Don’t you think they’ll ask for an explanation? Mike?” the female Cadet asked.
“You mean between the military and academics... why the military?” Mike replied.
This was Mike Buttercup. Next to him was Persephone Demifiend.
“I suppose that was also the question,” Persephone commented.
“These gauntlets. They can be used in close and long-range combat. With some extra modifications, it can swap between lasers or microscopic barrels. I like the idea of freely wandering like that,” Mike confessed.
“You’re odd, you know? The other day, you told that kid that intelligent chatter is preferred. Yet, here you are, having such carefree thoughts,” Persephone brought up this crucial point.
“It’s very context-dependent. I’m giving back where practical,” Mike clarified.
“How do you think he’s doing so far? Good? Well?” Persephone asked.
“Unless a magical deity is bored and randomly gifts him a miracle, I doubt he’ll accomplish much. Maybe go to a good university,” Mike said sarcastically.
Persephone only rolled her eyes.
Mike stretched and kneaded his knuckle as he ‘stepped’ off a cliff. Persephone seemingly ‘flew’ down shortly after him. Instructors and Cadets alike that were attracted by their sudden couldn’t help but forget their goals.
“They… are they walking on air?”
“But that’s impossible, right?”
In another Military Sector, a blue angel-like figure roamed the area. Wherever the eyes looked, all issues were resolved while everyone stopped and stared. Overall, there was at least one wild phenomenon in every Military Sector.
In various corners of each Military Zone, figures in the shadow were retreating, chuckling. All of them shared a single thought.
‘Something on this scale is impossible to cover. The world is about to become chaotic. The Coalition-Alliance feud will escalate. This should tip the scale in our favor.’
——|——|—|—|——|——
[Hell’s Forging Zone, ?????, Rhombu]
Hundreds of Privates First Class (PFC) and Corporals stood at attention, automatics resting just below their waist. Their eyes followed the Captain in front of them as he paced back and forth across a giant holographic screen.
“Soldiers.”
“Sir, Captain, Sir!”
“The next 5 years will be a helluva ride. This type of growth is unprecedented. Aren’t these, in fact, magicians? Isn’t that how dojos contribute to the balance? Now some of these freaks are entering the Military.
|———|
Keep up the efforts. If you fall behind, in a few years, you’ll be sacrificing your lives for them after the sacrificial units.”
“Sir, Captain, Sir!”
“But. Potential is one thing. The realization of talent is another thing entirely. How difficult is it to enter a specialized military base? How much did you work, grind, and sacrifice to join such a prestigious institution?
|———|
How much death did you witness? How much did you kill? How many times were you on the brink of life and death?
|———|
Can a bunch of greenhorns understand that? I know none of you are weak. I wouldn’t select a bunch of crybabies. Be proud of that.”
“Sir, Captain, Sir! Thank you for the acknowledgment!”
“In a few months, multiple Military Zones will join in a secluded place in the middle of nowhere. Constant grind by nonstop ambush. Intent to kill is permitted. Many Lieutenants, Captains, and Majors will be on location to prevent actual deaths.
|———|
This is the best thing we can do for them. Show how the world truly works. They must understand that the only backup they should depend on is themselves. They can’t grow without overcoming that fear.
|———|
The military needs fearless people, not babies that need babysitting.”
“Sir, Captain, Sir!”
“Do not apologize for anything you do. Do not demand an apology. The strong are exempt from insubordination. Punishment is a reality check for the weak. Lets them reexamine their priorities and value.”
“Sir, Captain, Sir!”
“My Sergeants will brief you on everything else. Dismissed”
“Sir, Captain, Sir!”
The same scene played out at dozens of Hell’s Forging Zones countrywide, continent-wide, and worldwide.