For the next three days we kept moving south west without fires when we made our camps. Each time we stopped, either at dawn or at dusk, one of the warriors led an aurox off alone to lay another false trail, re-joining the main group before we set off again. None of the others complained at the hard pace and lack of proper rest but I was sure it must be taking a toll, especially on the women. I was starting to feel the strain myself and I had twice the strength of any of them.

I continued to produce enchanted stones as we went, much to Kril’s delight. We now had dozens of them packed into a sack on one of our bovine beasts of burden. Unfortunately my traps became increasingly less effective as the days went by. Whether it was getting too cold for my prey to be active or not I didn’t know. I honestly couldn’t recall if rabbits and foxes called a truce to hibernate through the colder months. I had only gathered another hundred and one Souls when Jandak finally re-joined us after a week or more.

A cheer went up from Hermand who had spotted him before the rest of us. A halt was called and the warriors clapped him on the shoulder as he passed through them, exchanging jokes and greetings as he went. The man had a subtle touch when it came to bonding with people that I couldn't help but respect.

He paused when he reached Hatrikilo who glared at him for a second before they clasped forearms and Jandak was pulled into a fierce hug. Hatrikilo’s eyes were misted with tears as they pulled apart from each other. The older man had whispered something to his bastard son that I couldn’t catch but Jandak nodded firmly and grinned at his father as he pulled away.

“Glad you made it,” I said as he approached me. He grinned and tossed an empty leather pouch at me.

“I need more of these Vileslayer, if you’d be so kind,” he bowed his head mockingly and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Speak to Kril. He’s appointed himself the guardian of the magic stones. But before that… Do you have a sling?” I asked.

“Of course,” he untucked a length of leather from his belt and unwound the sling from his waist. “Why?” he asked.

“Try this in it,” I carefully passed him a stone enchanted with a firewall spell. I still wasn’t sure what was required to set them off. I suspected there was an element of intent, Kril could carelessly manhandle the damn things without burning his hands off but I wasn’t certain he hadn’t merely been lucky thus far. Jandak raised an eyebrow as the warriors gathered round in a loose circle, leaving him enough space to spin the sling and build momentum. He put the stone in the pouch and stepped back. A moment later it was whirring around his head and with a crack he released, launching the stone off into the plains.

“I bet you eight onz of meat it starts a wildfire,” said Hermald as the stone arced through the air.

“Nah. The grass is too wet now. That’s a fool's bet,” muttered Hatrikos as the stone disappeared into the waving stalks a hundred metres away from us. There was a crump sound that sent a wave through the long grass and six foot tall walls of fire spread out. From my perspective they covered a much larger area than three metres squared. At least ten metre long trails of fire rose up to block my sight of the plains beyond. Ten seconds later they vanished but the warriors were hooting and yelling, demanding similar stones of their own.

I left them to their bragging and banter as I went to investigate the effects of the spell. Kril shuffled along behind me muttering about no longer having the flexibility and strength to wield a sling properly in his old age.

“See here?” I asked as we paced around the crisp lines burned in the grass. “It varies in width and length almost randomly, thin here, fat there. I bet if we measured the whole thing and calculated the area it would be three by three but it’s spread out in a pattern that makes it much bigger. It looks almost fractal,” I muttered.

“What’s fractal?” asked Kril in confusion.

“Kind of random.” It was the best I could do to explain the concept that I only vaguely understood myself. I made a note to check with Jandak if he’d been thinking about the pattern of the flames and to perhaps run some more experiments to find out if intent could still shape the wall. As it was this would be devastating against a squad of men and even worse if it dropped in front of charging cavalry.

“Still, it will work,” he turned a toothy smile in my direction and I replied in kind. It would indeed work.

The training was going well with the warriors and when we made a proper camp that evening Jandak was reintroduced into the mix. I was teaching them Earth-style close combat, with fists, feet and knives. I was also forcing them to work in trios, each man watching the others backs in a melee. I kept switching them out so they didn’t get used to each “team” and making them fight against each other with blunt weapons. When Hermune returned I’d have enough for three teams at a time and we could begin to work on other tactics.

I wanted them to be competent fighters whoever their wingmen were, and then to integrate multiple groups of three into larger units. I’d hated my drill sergeants at the start of my army days but I’d come to appreciate how their cruel indifference had prepared me as best they could for the dangers I would face on the battlefield. This was different, far less focus ranged combat for a start, but I began to work at instilling the idea of hurling magic stones ahead of a charge to disrupt and scare the enemy.

Hatrikilo watched my efforts with a dour expression each night and rarely spoke to me beyond what was absolutely necessary. Kril took joy in sitting on the side and offering unsolicited advice and criticism. He usually wasn’t too far off the mark so I let it slide rather than insisting on proper decorum for training. These weren’t modern people, they had different expectations and norms. The training was well received though and a few days later when Hermune finally caught up with us I could move onto the next phase: asserting dominance.

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This would be a delicate task, despite the brutality it involved. I was honing them into weapons and I needed to make the men understand that I wasn’t to be challenged while at the same time not destroying their new found confidence in my instruction. These men would be cadre for the next phase, trainees would become trainers so I could revolutionise how the Areskyn made war.

Jandak had two men behind him, one to either side, as did Hermald. I walked forward into the no-man's-land between us and offered Hatrikos, the leader of the final trio, a canine of his own enchanted with the Heal Self spell. He nodded and grinned at me. His teammates slapped him on the back. They were already calling Jandak and Hermune “Fangs of the Kendyn” like it was a title so I figured I’d even the score between the teams. Mune, Jandak and Kos were the best of them and I wanted them as my captains.

“No weapons. Work together to put me down,” I barked and the nine men smirked at me.

“What if we win?” called Jandak as he shook out his arms.

“You’ll earn a kiss!” came Haylin’s voice from the fire where the women were watching with Kril and Hatrikilo. The men laughed roughly as Jandak blushed but he raised his fist to the sky.

“For my prize!” he bellowed and charged forward at me. His teammates moved in quickly behind him, stepping wide to cover his flanks while the other trios circled swiftly to either side, looking to get behind me. I grinned and rushed to meet him.

I spent ten mana on my Enhancement spell and another ten on my Mass power. My head ducked to the side of his outstretched fist and I watched in seeming slow motion as he went from grinning to startled. Both my hands latched onto his tunic and I heaved him off his feet. I spun, using his momentum and his body to sweep the legs out from the rest of his trio. I let him go and he flipped away towards the fire as Kril and Hatrikilo laughed at the poor bugger's misfortune. Our training sessions had become considerably more violent with the advent of rechargeable healing amulets.

As he bowled away from me I stamped down on the leg of one of his partners stretched out on the ground before me, getting a scream of pain in reply, just as a fist smashed into the side of my skull from the left.

I saw stars for a second and that was all it took. I fought hard, not pulling my punches beyond what was necessary to avoid crippling them. If I went full out with a strength stat of twenty I was confident I would pulverise organs and bones with each blow so I limited the damage I thought I would do. I still didn’t give them an inch unless I thought they earned it.

The fight continued with me meting out savage punishment for any perceived break in formation or style. I ended up taking a vicious kick to my right kidney from an unexpected source while I punched Kos in the face twice and was bowled over as a result, losing my footing for the final time. As I struggled to rise I found Jandak smiling down at me, blood dripping from his mouth and as his fist came towards my face I sent a bloody grin back at him just before the knuckles smashed into my cheek.

When the ringing and the lights went away I had three small squads of loyal fighters picking me up. I shrugged off their hands with a laugh and cast heal on myself a couple of times. The cuts and wounds sealed and I straightened up, concealing the lingering pain from my many injuries.

“Well done. You’re my first fangs. You will always lead my troops into battle,” I said. I cringed at the sound of my words, expecting them to snicker and tease me or sneer in disgust but instead they preened, pride flowing off of them in waves. I noticed Kril nodding and grinning like a crazy man over by the fire. “Do any of you need healing?” I asked.

They all slapped their chests twice, activating their healing trinkets, and returned to upright positions. Their wounds closing, new skin visibly creeping across their injuries as they sighed in relief.

“You never mentioned it didn’t help the pain,” complained Kos.

“Pain makes you stronger,” laughed one of the others but he groaned at the end and put his hands on his knees as he drew deep breaths.

“I knew a man once who told me that pain is weakness leaving the body,” I replied, confident my plagiarism wouldn’t be caught in this world.

“Hah. He was an asshole!” laughed Jandak. “These things recover their charges, you know that?”

“I didn’t. Is it a charge per hour?” I asked. That would match my mana regeneration rate and increase the usefulness of the enchanted items considerably.

“What’s an hour? It's one charge every quarter of a day or so. I had some injuries catching up with you and found out the hard way,” Jandak said. So a charge recovered roughly every three hours. I cursed their lack of normal time keeping and the uncertainty it caused.

“A beast?” asked Hermune.

“No-” Jandak began to reply.

“Hah! You stumbled while running! You were always a clumsy prick!” snorted Hermand. Jandak glared at him but soon broke out into a grin and shrugged.

“Think whatever you like, young one,” Jandak said with a grim smile. Hermand didn’t back down and smirked back in response.

The trial broke up and I was certain I’d achieved my goal. They were confident in their abilities and new tactics. I could refine them over time, making them even more formidable, but even now I’d bet they could take on twice their numbers in a straight fight without weapons. With magic stones they’d always be going into fights with an unfair advantage. I smiled savagely as I returned to the fire and sat down to ease the aches from the beating I’d allowed myself to be subjected to.

“Do you enjoy pain?” asked Fayala from across the fire in a soft voice.

“Of course he does! No Kendyn ever shied away from suffering. It’s in his blood!” said one of the lesser Herm cousins happily. I did not agree but I smiled slightly instead of arguing the point with him.

“No one does but sometimes it’s necessary. It teaches a harsh but valuable lesson,” I replied. Her eyes held my own for long seconds before she looked away.

“Urkendyn,” said Hatrikilo. “Can you teach us to fight in larger groups as well?” Urkendyn meant something along the lines of over-man-of-the-hunt, or more loosely; the true leader of the hunt. Something like that. Most words came through the system's translation power perfectly but the more esoteric terms required some interpretation on my part. Now I’d been named Urkendyn I looked around at the others to assess their reactions. It seemed to have stuck judging from the nods and smiles. It guessed I’d won old Hatrikilo over as well.

Kendyn, Vileslayer and now Urkendyn. How many more titles would I accrue as I built a powerbase to take on my true rivals?

“I can. But that will be another night, first I think Jandak needs to claim his prize!” A roar went up from the men and Haylin’s cheeks glowed bright red in the firelight.