“Sir! Our neighbors are massing an army!” A man wearing peasant clothes dyed in white breathlessly pants out to a man in steel armor as he peers down from his balcony. The new guardian recruits being taught the forms, taught to defend the Demon Lord of Alcase. The Guardian General wrestles to keep his anger in control before answering. Finally keeping his amounting anger from exploding he continues to look at the trainees slashing and hacking the training posts.
“Send word to the Demon Prince to end the engagement with the humans to defend our territory.” The general replies calmly. Just because the country drove the humans back it could be considered the Demon’s won. However, the humans keep coming, never ending in their want for battle. Recalling the troops might lose ground now but in the end if the Sedine Demon lord attacks they will be able to enlarge their own territory and send a larger force against the human threat. The general running his thoughts back and forth through his head, trying to figure out major flaws beside the obvious continues to stare down his balcony, even when the servant in white shuts the door and has since left the minor castle.
***
“Off the cart bugs!” A man in chainmail with small steel shoulder pads indicating his above average rank shouts at not only Nil’s cart but the other new recruits as well. Rushing off the carts the new recruits line up next to each other facing the well armored Captain.
“I have been ordered to train, your time as slaves should have built stamina at least and therefore a mock battle with wooden weapons is to be thrown immediately!” The Captain shouts as he eyes each and every new recruit, hardly blinking as his eyes pass over the short and stocky Nil. Nil only looks around him trying to judge the situation based on the other slave recruits faces but as soon as the Captain notices he jumps into Nil’s face.
“Did I say you can have a wondering eye! Did I say that you can even move your head!” The captain shouts red in the face with spit flying from his lips and landing on Nil’s cheek. Nil amidst shock answers slowly. Or at least tries before the Captain shouts once more hardly losing his breath.
“No! Because of your actions the mock battle will not only be done once but twice and whoever beats you down like the bug you are will gain my favor!” The Captain shouts once more until he’s blue in the face: with real or fake anger Nil could not tell. Suddenly men in leather armor hop off the carts, the Captain’s guards also begin handing out wooden weapons that not only weigh heavier than actual weapons but look the same as well to each and every new slave recruit. Nil is handed a sword no longer than fifteen inches. Hardly a short sword but Nil knows no difference as he grasps the handle. Shrugging his shoulder the captain and his guards lead each individual a certain length from each other.
“You can only attack once stepping eight paces from the starting point! Any attacks done before than will be punished by beatings! Once struck on a main body part you are out, my guards will call each man struck and if disobeyed a beating will be incoming! Understood?” The Captain hardly waited for the noncommittal ayes, and shouted in his loudest voice yet.
“Begin!” Nil holding only his short wooden stick does not charge like the others. He calmly walks his paces and begins attacking behind the entranced fighter’s backs. A swing to the left, then the right Nil soon takes out five opponents before he takes down the sixth, the sixth’s opponent charges him. Left with little choice Nil slams his short wooden stick into the monstrosity of the knotted wooden stick the opponent has in the model of a spiked mace before Nil is weaving and using his sword to redirect the opponent’s attacks. Nil beginning to pant as each swing forces him to use more stamina notices the same of his opponent. Waiting for his chance to strike from the oncoming onslaught of not only a heavier weapon but numbing blows, Nil notices his chance as the opponents back swing is late. Charging in close Nil slaps the stick into the opponent’s face, the man falls unconscious to the muddy ground. Nil begins to feel invigorated, as if he was born to hold a blade begins to charge into battle in bloodlust until he hears a thump, a slight pain in his temple, and then black. All the while thinking over the comfort of a blade handle in his grasp even as he has no control over his body in his restful state.
Nil wakes an unknown time later. The Captain once more shouting as a slim but yet well-defined slave recruit holds out a shiny battle axe. Nil can only groan in slight nausea as he sits up as a headache begins.
“Poor excuse for recruits! Poor! Poor! Poor! You bugs are no better than the common farmer if not worst! They can at least kill a poaching beast!” Nil watch as the Captains ears vibrate like Jell-O after shouting, or his demeanor of walking amidst trash. Nil understanding, he was knocked out during the battle watches the man with the axe in hidden envy. Nil felt a connection. A connection he could never put to words other than that he felt comfortable holding the fake blade, as if it was part of him. The wooden blade no longer in grasp, Nil remains by his campfire as the other recruits begin to sleep only thinking about how comfortable the blade sat within his palm and how he needs to not only explore his weird feeling for the blade but to gain strength, strength to the point to never feel envy for someone else’s skill in battle.
The next morning the drill Captain from the previous days before this one shouts the recruits awake. Nil immediately wakes, eats his morning gruel, grabs a longer wooden blade before the rest are chosen having discovered his liking for longer blades sets out to the sparing field. Finding three others Nil begins to spar one on one with the others till the rest of the recruits enter the field. Having followed the same routine, the last two weeks Nil and the other three have caught the Captain’s eye but yet he shows nothing, if not pushing the four even harder each day after finding them practicing when the others relax. The Captain ends the spar with a glare of his pupil less brown eyes and begins the usual recruit regimen. Exercise in the morning, mock battle after lunch, and then form practice the rest of the day.
Stolen novel; please report.
Nil drags his feet. Being the slowest runner of all the recruits he comes in last panting heavy and sweating through his course clothing. Hands on his knees and hunched over Nil waits for the Captain to start the second part of the stamina building part of his training. Each day after the twenty-lap run around the mock battle field with the extra heavy wooden weapons holstered the Captain than has the recruits lift logs with eight people and have them jog around the field once more but with only half the laps required. Due to Nil’s slow sleep most of the other fifteen year old recruits grumble and moan when Nil is placed with a certain group. Nil ignores it all as he stands in the back, farther than the rest to make up for his short height leaving Nil to hold more weight of the log than the rest for the laps. Taking off with the other it isn’t till the middle of the second lap Nil and his teammates are ready to drop dead from the weight. Beginning to walk the laps are done right at the moment it’s time for lunch. Being the last group to lunch Nil eats quickly to prepare for the mock battles. The three young men from this morning also do the same. Going through the newly taught forms anyone would say Nil was one of the top recruits in forms. Counting each step and strike in his head as he replicates what he saw the Captain show the recruits the second day it isn’t long before the Captain begins screaming at the top of his lungs for Nil to end. Nil stops as expected but the stifled giggles is heard by Nil where he then lowers his head. Giggles no longer being capable of being stifled sprout causing Nil to grow even angrier bringing a slight change of color to his face the other recruits mistake for shame or embarrassment.
The Captain and his subordinates lead each into their previous places for the mock battle. Once the shout by the Captain is made the boys charge. Nil now knowing to walk in a battle means death flies forward in his slow gait. Slashing the backs of the unexpected like his first day it takes an hour for Nil and eight others to be the last. Only two from the morning sparring matches with Nil remain. The nine boys circle each other, ready for the strike that starts the battle. Some boys nod to each other in a unmistakable sign of pacts. Nil the only one to not have a pact decides to be the aggressor. Quickly lashing out to the man next to him in a stabbing motion that is blocked sluggishly the battle begins anew. The boys opposite of Nil strike the other boys that are in other pacts as Nil uses his strength and quick strikes to take out not only his first opponent but his previous opponents teammate. Sliding into the boy’s guard he strikes hard and fast as his opponent over stepped his lunge and lost balance. Going in the entanglement of circles Nil takes down four opponents before he reaches an alliance that just defeated their enemy. Nil looks around the field, surveying his surroundings for future enemies sees only four more opponents remaining. Understanding the other two will be joining the battle tries to wait but is given no chance as the two in front of him charge. Sure of themselves with their increased numbers the attack begins. Nil parries one blow and dodges the other from the claymore styled swords of his opponents. No time for counter strikes Nil parries and doges until the other two join in. Seeing the new combatants nod heads in recognition Nil feels his excitement of the battle die. Realizing the four before him just created an alliance or were already apart of one didn’t matter to Nil, what mattered was that the battle became four to one with no chance of Nil winning with such odds. Feeling furious Nil seethes. Breathing hard. The anger from this morning, the previous laughter of not only the recruit training but being a slave takes over. With no regard for his own welfare Nil takes off in a speed far faster than he ever ran before. Nil using form four, the overhead swing snaps his wooden sword on the smallest opponent’s head. Not stopping he charges the next. A man a whole head taller than himself with nearly the same shoulder size as Nil but yet he can no dodge the unbelievably quick strike of Nil’s bastard sword. Feeling a presence coming from behind Nil uses form nine, the underhand side swing smacking a charging man on his hips. Hearing the cry of pain Nil turns to the last, The strongest besides Nil himself but yet the fastest. Nil gives a battle roar full of anger and bloodlust begins to charge, sword held low.
The Captain stands still in his shock. Having watched the boys take down each other over the last hour and half he noticed Nils skill with his blade. As he kept an eye on the other recruits the irony of a previous slave holding a sword called the bastard sword was not lost. By the time the opponents reached nine he saw Nil take down the tenth and watch as a semi large circle was formed by the remaining nine. Watching as only three alliances were made. One alliance of four and the others of two. He watches as the young boy took out one on his own and the alliance finish off the third alliance. The Captain expecting Nil to lose only watched the remaining four to try and predict who would win. Suddenly the Captain felt chills down his back. Turning his eye on Nil he watched as the boy’s hair went from black to white and back to black before staying at a dark grey. The boy’s opponents were just as shocked. The boy giving no time ran forward, tail dragging as he used form four, the next opponent received the form two side slash, and then fearing the boy about to be struck down from behind watches awe struck as the boy turns around, using form nine to strike the man in the hips. Each blow meeting the requirement for his subordinates to call the boys out of the battle till the last remained. Nil’s body now facing the Captains way leaves the Captain in a state of fear. Nils fangs elongated to where his mouth wouldn’t shut properly, Nils slit pupils more pronounced, and with snake skin like lines embedded into his skin the Captain could only see a monster as Nil roared and charged.
Nil stabs with all his might which is parried, Nil using the rebounding momentum swings wildly with all his strength into a side slash that is also blocked but leaving the man before him with a numbing hand and screaming ears as the thwack sound from the blow could be heard to the silent watchers. Noticing the slight reaction Nil uses form four to bring down his opponent. Nil roars in his first win.
Thwack!
Nil goes down and the crowd watched as the Captain smacked Nil in the back of the head with a practice sword.
“Send word to the Guardians! Now!” The Captain shouts in anxiety.