“The Beasts do not fight in any style, thus you will not learn one.”

The very first day of training, Jake spent most of it outside of the building. There were thirty others like Jake and they were split evenly among three instructors. Each instructor was a scout with plenty of experience in the tunnels. Each trainer was hand-picked by Mur to assist the newbies.

While Jake didn’t expect an easy road forward, he wasn’t quite ready for such a steep slope. There was no formal training. Students were instructed to pick a weapon of choice and then were briefly told how to hold it, how to stand, and how to swing it. Most other students grabbed spears, as they were the easiest tool to utilize. Those who were brave grabbed swords. The other weapons were more scattered and few.

After the initial instruction, the students were paired up and began sparring. Right from the beginning, the fighting began. The students were instructed to learn their own battle stance and fight in a way that they found comfortable. Their moves were to be done slowly and carefully. After a short time, partners were rotated. For four days, Jake spent his hours cycling through opponents, feeling out how to fight.

At random intervals, the students were pushed through an assortment of physical exercises and official instructions. The exercise was meant to bring up their cardiovascular strength and influence quick growth in their muscular strength. Healers remained on standby to accelerate their recovery, allowing students to continue training shortly after. Food breaks were minimal and rest time was even less.

It was a grueling start.

“The Beasts do not hesitate, thus you will not stop.”

On the fifth day, students were put against each other in formal bouts. Those who took their training seriously stood out. Their attacks were more refined, their stances more balanced. Individuals who passed began to show signs of being warriors and put forth their best. Jake, capable of training in the Library at night and using Light magic to accelerate his recovery, stood out even further.

While he could not enhance his physical body in the Library, Jake spent countless hours refining foot placement, adapting his fighting style, and pouring his attention into Light magic’s recovery spells. He wouldn’t cheat so far as to use enchantments on himself. Such would be unfair and cutting corners in that way would leave him short later on. Instead, he simply focused on minimizing the amount of rest he needed before he could stand and train again.

His compatriots found him to be scary in that regard. While they needed to rest and be tended to by healers, Jake continued to swing his blade. He would run extra laps, push his body for extra repetitions, and would waste no time moving from one fight to the next. To them, he was just as much of a monster as the Maedra. After fighting those creatures and having the knowledge of what it would take to kill them, Jake gave himself no quarter. He would earn their heads.

After the fifth day and after those who failed their assessments were pushed out to train with the regular scouts, those who passed were put into a ten-day regime. It was a brutal, unending grind of physical grit. They never left the compound and were restricted to a large cavern inside the main building. Here, additional instructors were brought in. Eighteen students remained and were split into groups of three.

From there, the instructors formally taught the students proper battle tactics, scouting techniques, and the strengths and weaknesses of the Maedra. In addition, the students were regularly pitted against each other in formal three-versus-three fights or even massive free-for-all style brawls. The victorious were given additional food rations and were granted extra time to sleep. The losers were robbed of both or were given less.

Jake was not perfect. While he alone was strong, he lacked the teamwork element. His team regularly found itself in trouble and Jake was forced to make up for the failures of his partners. Whenever he fought alone, however, he found it far easier to move and fight. Yet his compatriots learned that if they jumped him at the start, he would be easier to beat. Jake learned their tactics and began adjusting his fighting style to be able to handle more than one foe at a time.

At night, in the Library, Jake requested assistance from some of the fairies. He asked them to cast spells and attack him. While he wouldn’t fight back, it helped him learn how to block and deflect attacks sent at him from various angles at once. He became quicker, his reaction time cut down, and his mind sharpened.

“The Beasts do not fear, and you will not either.”

Day fifteen began with another flurry of free-for-all matches. The eighteen left were split into three groups of six and sent against one another. After the winners were decided from each fight, the winners were pitted against each other. The final winner was then sent against a team of two, a team of three, and then a team of five.

Jake withstood them all. He learned in time to fight with less restraint and relied less and less on his actual blade when it came to swinging and striking. He implemented the use of his hands, knees, and feet. His attacks were swift, brutal, and thrown without regard or respect for his opponent. He kicked in the groin, gouged at their eyes, and regularly dug his fingers into throats.

They called him a brute. He called himself victorious.

After Jake finished winning, the boy sat off to the side as the remaining students were split up and sent through a series of round-robin fights. The students fought one on one, winning points per each victory. Those who won above a certain threshold were allowed to continue training. Those who failed to achieve the required points were thrown out.

Thirty started. Eleven remained.

“The Beasts do not chant, they do not flinch. Your strikes must be resolute.”

On day sixteen, the students were brought into the main building to watch. They were introduced to the style of training that Mur would give them should they pass the next three days and were allowed to rest, each, and be treated for their wounds. The students watched from a viewing room attached to the main training space. Mur did not acknowledge them, nor did any of the students inside the main room. They were ghosts. They had not earned the right to stand within those mats yet.

“The Beasts only view you as a feast- your Life Essence is all they care about.”

On day seventeen, the final grind began. A three-day trial. Students were led out into a series of hand-carved tunnels that were linked together in a winding maze beneath the scout courtyard. They were escorted individually into the tunnels by instructors and then left to fend for themselves. Each student was given one day’s ration of food, a weapon, a small torch, and a match to light the torch. Nothing else. The instructors then left the students and wait for the signal to start, without ever telling them what the signal would be.

Jake, not unwise to the situation, waited until his instructor was gone before he began to move. He lit the torch with the match and then left it behind, letting it burn in the tunnel as he marched off into the dark. Using the skill left to him by Chul, Jake utilized his mana sense to see. His eyes were adapting to the dark rather well and he had little trouble skulking through the black tunnels.

They were given no objective. Told no rules. Told no warnings. They were led out and then abandoned. Jake assumed the goal was for them to simply find their way out. However, with only one day’s worth of food but were told to survive three days in the tunnel. The solution was simple.

Kill the other scout before they ate their rations and survive.

Using his magic for the first time to give himself an edge, Jake quickly found his first target. Another student, a spear wielder, knelt in the middle of the tunnel with his head down. Jake waited beyond the torch’s influence, hiding as he waited for the signal. Jake could still see the other scout’s food rations on the ground. Jake placed his down and drew his blade.

At the faint sound of a whistle echoing through the tunnel, Jake pounced. The other student wasn’t able to ready their spear before Jake’s knee was in his back. He drove the Oryk to the ground and then grabbed the back of the Scout’s neck. With a fierce squeeze, Jake pinched the sides of the Oryk’s neck. The scout wheezed, kicked, and struggled as Jake cut the blood circulation to the Oryk’s head. In ten seconds, the scout was knocked out.

Hastily, Jake stripped the Oryk’s of clothes, shattered their spear, and doused their torch in water. He stole their rations, grabbed his own, and darted into the tunnel. By the time the scout returned to their sense, Jake was long gone.

Jake wasted no time rushing through the tunnel, using the distant sounds of fighting to bring him to his next prey. He found three others in a wide brawl, all swinging and scampering around in a small area of light, barely lit by two struggling torches. One scout was bleeding. Another was tired. The third looked fresh to the fight and eager to finish it off. Jake sat back in the dark, waiting for the result. A fourth scout came in from the other side, joining the fray and adding to the chaos. The two initial fighters were knocked down first and the remaining two wore each other out.

Jake eased in closer to the fight, waiting for them to expend a little more energy before he finally lunged in. One scout was knocking out his enemy when Jake came up behind him. Using his elbow, Jake smashed in the side of the scout’s head and then punched him in the center of his face, breaking his nose and sending him reeling into the tunnel’s wall. Before the scout could recover, Jake punched him in the throat. The scout crumbled, gasping for air.

If anything, Jake learned that swift and unrelenting violence always won out.

He collected the food rations, shattered their spears, and broke their swords with his rock magic. Then, he once more soaked the torches in water. Leaving the group behind with nothing once again, Jake took off and vanished into the tunnels. With that large group taken care of, that mean five fighters were down and out. Counting Jake, that was six out of eleven accounted for. Five heads left.

Jake took a lot of time after snatching up the food to rest and devoured as much of the stolen rations as he could. The food was very light. Mostly bread, a can with cold soup in it, and a tube of some kind of ground-up food all mixed together. It all tasted bland and disgusting, but it filled his stomach. Jake used water magic to give himself something additional to wash it all down with.

Then, he waited. The boy sat against the tunnel and let time pass. He could hear distant skirmishes but the tunnels were largely silent. Using earth magic, he created a tiny hole in the wall to hide in and let himself rest. He left a peephole in the rocks that he could see out of, then he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, the boy’s stomach growled. He ate some more food and then scanned the area outside of his hole. Seeing it clear, Jake returned to the tunnel and began his hunt.

On the initial day, Jake’s only goal was to acquire food and attempt to eliminate his opposition. The second would be to finalize that effort. He had been lucky, stumbling on that brawl. Cowardice had given him some reward but now he would earn it. He sought out the other students and found those still capable of fighting. He shouted at them to get their attention, rousing two from their sleep when he found them.

Then, he fought them until they could fight no more. One by one, he broke them. For no other reason than to test his ability and see how far he could push himself, Jake dominated the tunnels and after defeating each of the remaining five students, he left them to recover just so he could find them again on the third day.

At the end of the assessment, instructors entered the tunnels and instructed the students that they needed to find a way out on their own. Jake obliged. Having spent his time running around without fear, Jake had learned the maze quite well. When told to exit, he did so without trouble. The second student to find the exit did so after three hours of stumbling around in the dark, a problem caused by Jake having stolen all of the remaining torches and destroying them during the middle of the third day.

The other students trickled out, one by one, after having been lost for hours. Of the eleven who went in, three needed rescuing as they were unable to find a way out and were starving from a lack of food.

After the students were collected, they were all told of who had passed and who had failed. Jake was the first name called to pass. Of the other ten, only three names were called. The rest were dismissed.

Jake and the remaining three were healed and given a small feast to help recover their energy. Their equipment and clothes were replaced and they were instructed to report to the main hall the next morning.

For the remaining ten days of their training, the students would spend it sparring and fighting for their right to return. Of the four of them, two lasted three days in the main hall. The third lasted nine.

Of the thirty who had started the grueling training, only Jake returned on the thirtieth day.

“The Beasts do not feel pain. They do not tire.

Until you or they are dead, they will hunt you.”

* * *

Mur marched around the room, his words ringing out loudly and clearly over the sounds of practice fights. The sparring was violent and unstructured. Each individual held a different weapon of choice and there were no favorable pairings. The partner you had at one moment could be immediately changed to an opponent with a far different weapon. However, victory was still expected. The losers were shunned and thrown out of the ring, forced to sit by and watch until Mur gave them another chance.

Healers stood by to help the injured but they were not allowed to treat minor pains or cuts. Only wounds that hindered progress could be healed. Everything else was expected to be ignored or dealt with on a personal level. This left most of the students with numerous scratches, bruises, and open wounds that were hastily wrapped with scraps of fabric.

The “training” was more like King of the Hill. The longer you held your ground and fended off your opponents, the more training you earned. Being victorious netted you less attention which meant Mur wouldn’t swing at you as he passed by nor would he suddenly throw you out of the ring and cast you to the side. The winners were given pointers and Mur would aid them with fixing certain stances or attacks. Winners were given priority during breaks for healing. Winners were given extra time at the end of the sessions for Mur to teach them personally. Winners were given better meal portions, longer breaks, and better weapons.

On the other end, the losers were forgotten, harassed, and beaten. Losers were ignored by the healers and pushed slowly out of the building. Losers were cast out and left to be sent to the other Scout platoons where they would simply survive, not live. Losers were given extremely short breaks and barely any time to eat or rest and they were expected to perform just as well as the winners. The moment you were labeled as a “loser”, it was only a matter of time until you were pushed into a corner and given a choice- quit, die, or be thrown out. Very few recovered from the label.

At the front of the room, a roster hung on a wall. A large board with names etched into it. Every student’s name was on that board, with a tally mark beside their name. Each tally wasn’t a win, it was a day. Some students had circles next to their names- the circles were worth ten days. Only two students had stars. Stars were worth one hundred days. Every day you survived in Mur’s school, you were given a tally. Every ten days, you were treated to a special meal and given a circle. Every four circles and you could go out on missions in teams of four. Earn six circles and you could start training other students. Earn a star, and you could go out on missions alone on behalf of the Scout Association and with Mur’s blessing.

However, next to the running roster of names there was another board of names. The names of the dead. Their names were carved, not written. Besides their names were their final tallies. The average number of stars beside the names was two. Most only had one star with a few circles and only one name had four stars. The norm seemed to be two stars and three circles. Around that point, the students found their ends. Mur never spoke of them, never addressed the board, and he never used it as an example. But, at the end of every day- the students and Mur as a collective all bowed their heads to the dead.

Along with tallies, stars, and circles- there were horizontal dashes. A student earned a dash as a demerit. Lose too many fights, earn too many injuries, or perform too poorly in a day and the dash would be given rather than a tally. After too many dashes were given, the student would be thrown out. Even if they were still progressing and still earning their way, the dashes were absolute. Students could be victorious one day and fail the next. The dashes were Mur’s mercy rule. Even though he was vicious and his training ruthless, he wouldn’t send out his students just to watch them die. The number of dashes one could earn was never clear-cut or consistent. Sometimes, one dash would be enough. One student earned eight before being cast away. Some students continued with four or five dashes, always uncertain if the day would be theirs to fail.

Today, Jake would earn his third circle but he would need to survive to see it first.

The day began as normal. The students arrived “early” and circled the room, sitting on their heels with their weapons set out in front of them for inspection by their seniors. Mur arrived shortly after and sat down at the head of the room beside the roster. The winners of the prior day all were given a blue mark beside their name and they were called forward. Jake’s name was not called.

After the winners of the prior day were set, the losers were then called forward and matched up against one of the winners. These losers were the ones with the most dashes to their names, or individuals who had just earned a fresh one from the day prior. Once more, Jake’s name was not called. The students were given ten minutes to clean their weapons further and were provided with the tools to do so. The time limit was firm for those already in the rings. Those on the outside wouldn’t be disturbed once the ten minutes were up, but it was always risky to keep cleaning or preparing- Mur could call a student forward at any moment, for any reason.

Jake, however, didn’t touch any of the cleaning utensils. His sword remained sheathed in front of him as the other students scurried to clean the blemishes off their weapons of choice. Two other students remained similarly still. They were both winners from the prior day and were waiting patiently for the ten minutes to be up. Their opponents, however, scrambled desperately to prepare their weapons.

The nine-minute mark was called out. The students in the rings all began to rush with their final preparations. The two who hadn’t moved yet finally did so. One held two short staves and stood up, holding the weapons firmly in her hands. The other was armed with a long, two-handed sword. He too stood up and drew the blade free of its long sheath. Their opponents scrambled to their feet as the ten minutes came to an end.

“Begin,” Mur shouted and the daily chaos erupted. The student facing off against the student with her two staves was swiftly cut down, his long spear no match for her speed and tamed violence. The boy collapsed in a heap. She had struck his stomach with the bottom ends of her staves simultaneously, knocking the wind and saliva out of him. The boy was quickly snatched up by two healers and carried out of the way. A new student was called forward as a replacement and the fighting continued.

Jake sat at the edge of the eight rings, his eyes gliding from one fight to the other as he watched the duels. Most were simply glorified scraps with the fighters both struggling to maintain their composure and upper hand, while the two in the opposite corners maintained their thrones diligently. Jake had fought against the two-handed sword fighter, Ailuck, but hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes before he was pinned beneath the boy’s blade. Reyna, the twin staff wielder, was the only other fighter Jake hadn’t been put against yet in the room. Whether it was due to fate, timing, or Mur’s cruel planning- Jake hadn’t been called to her mat.

As Jake stared at Reyna, her hips twisting almost unnaturally as she nimbly avoided a jab from a spear, another body was slammed to the mat just to his right. He glanced over to see one of the girls get whacked over the head by a fierce swing of a spear. She let out a faint gasp before her body slumped against the mat- unconscious, not dead.

“Jake,” Mur shouted. He was at the other side of the mats, his eyes on another fight entirely but Jake didn’t question the call. He snatched up his blade and quickly moved between the mats and to the designated square. His opponent, a tall boy with a shaved head and a golden iris around his singular eye, wielded a thick spear with a broken tip. Even so, the edge was razor-sharp and glistened in the light.

Jake stepped onto the mat and drew his blade. This boy was named Eru. He was a thin fellow and at first, Jake thought him to be weak. In actuality, it was the opposite. Eru’s lanky frame was a nimble and slippery thing to hit and Eru used his extra reach to keep most opponents at bay. If Eru was any taller and his arms any longer- that spear of his would likely reach from one end of the mat to the other. But, that was also his biggest disadvantage.

After taking the mat, a passing healer raised her hand and then briskly dropped it, almost absentmindedly as she walked over to help another student. The fight was on. Jake lunged to close the gap. Eru jabbed forward, aiming for his opponent’s chest and hips. Jake pivoted on his heels, spinning his back foot to the right as his left hand swatted the spear off course. He swung his sword up the length of the spear, following it up to Eru’s arms where he sliced a layer of flesh off the boy’s forearm. Eru grit his teeth and swung his right fist across at Jake’s head.

A smirk stretched over Jake’s face. He leaned back and pushed the hand past him, his own arm following Eru’s for a moment as he turned his hips. He clenched his fist and then jerked his left elbow, smashing it into Eru’s exposed face. Eru’s eyes closed from the impact, and Jake twirled around to slam his right elbow squared into Eru’s nose. Eru staggered and Jake followed through with a haymaker into the same impact point. Eru’s face exploded with blood as he was knocked out of the ring. Finishing the fight, Jake stomped forward with his left leg, raised his right, and then brought his heel firmly down into Eru’s gut. Jake’s opponent slammed into the wall, straightening as he sat down against it.

Jake returned to the mat and took his corner.

“Yaris,” Mur shouted. The next opponent came forth as instructed- two short staves, just like Reyna. However, Reyna’s style was more refined and more controlled. She held her beat sticks closer to their middles. Yaris held them at their base as if they were wooden swords. Jake narrowed his eyes and set his feet. Once again, a random passing healer raised and dropped their hand and the fight started.

Yaris was the one to surge forward this time. He raised one staff behind him to the right and leveled the other in front of him like a guard. The predictable swing came down and Jake parried it with his left hand, stepping forward and through the swing. As he pushed the wood staff to the right and down, he raised his blade over his left shoulder and across his face. Yaris had put more momentum into his swing than he likely had planned, leaving him vulnerable, but he had kept his balance. As Jake swung his sword across his body and at Yaris’s face, Yaris ducked and twisted his body, pulling himself out of the sword’s path.

As Yaris peeled back, his left arm swung upwards in a vertical strike. Jake easily avoided the swing by stepping back. Yaris regained his footing, his stance, and then moved forward again. His right hand came down once more in a diagonal swing but his wrist twisted and both wooden staves came across at Jake’s head. Jake grunted and slammed his blade against them violently, stopping the twin attack before Yaris could put too much strength behind the swings.

With his head exposed, Jake reached out and snatched up his opponent’s throat. He shoved the two staves back and then swung his right fist into Yaris’s face. Yaris flinched as he stepped back. Jake advanced. Yaris raised his two staves but Jake drove his left hand straight through the middle of them, hitting Yaris square in the nose. As Yaris stepped back once more, Jake thrust his blade forward and cut a gash into the boy’s cheek. Yaris’s eye opened wide as he stared down at the clean blade lodged in his face. He let out a brief yelp before he was snatched by the neck and pulled out of the ring.

Jake let out a huff and retook his corner.

“Hun,” Mur shouted a new name, calling another opponent forth. Jake felt his muscles instinctively tense up as the next opponent stepped up. Hun. He wielded a single medium-sized staff, was the same height as Jake and had his hair tied up into a tail. His eye was large with a brown outline but his expression was always blank. As Hun stepped up into the ring, Jake naturally took a defensive stance.

The match started, and neither moved. Hun’s unchanging expression, unblinking eye, and steady stare were unsettling. Jake stared at his opponent’s hips, watching for any sign of movement from the enemy. There was none. As the world around them moved along, the surrounding fights progressing and the sounds of violence ringing out in the hall, Hun and Jake remained still as statues.

Jake moved first, taking two smooth steps forward and one to the right. Hun reacted by taking a single step to the left, but the distance remained great between them. Mur’s circling of the room came to a halt as he stood next to the ring, his eyes moving slowly back and forth from Jake to Hun. Jake let out a slow exhale and his grip twisted on his sword- his hand was sweaty.

Seeing the twitch, Hun suddenly stepped forward. Hun huffed and jabbed his staff. Jake sidestepped but the staff was on him, shoved by Hun’s backhand. Jake swung his blade to block the swing and then grabbed the staff with his left hand, wrapping his arm around it and locking it firmly against his body. Hun’s eye narrowed as he pulled on the staff- Jake’s muscles tensed but didn’t give. Holding the blade in front of him defensively as Hun pulled with both hands on the spear, Jake maintained his distance from the boy. Hun didn’t yank or overexert his muscles. His pulls were rhythmic, timed, and constant. Like short, brief jerks- he pulled and began to twist the staff. Jake’s muscles remained tensed up, even when Hun wasn’t pulling, to ensure he wouldn’t be surprised by a sudden pull with all of Hun’s might. His feet braced against the ground, steady and unyielding.

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Suddenly, Hun shoved his staff forward. Jake released the staff as Hun lunged and reached forward with his left hand. Hun used his hand to swat Jake’s away and then spun away to avoid Jake’s sword as it was swung at him. Hun gripped onto the lower half of his staff like a sword and began to swing it at Jake. Jake deflected the swing and returned his own, cutting the air as Hun side-stepped. The staff and sword clashed and bounced off one another as the two fighters swung at each other.

Parries, blocks, and evasive stepping ensured each swing never struck home. Hun tried a few jabs, but Jake’s own kept him from stepping too deep. Hun circled the outside of the mat while Jake dominated the middle, keeping Hun at arm’s length. The staff was dangerous at a distance, while Jake’s blade would be even worse up close. But Hun’s strength limited the power of his swings. If Jake kept him at arm’s length, he could parry and block the staff with ease. The attacks would be both predictable and easy to read, as Hun would need to step forward for each strike. While Jake could maneuver more freely to defend himself.

Eventually, Hun’s movements slowed. Sweat built on his forehead and his breathing became more ragged and unsteady. Jake kept his breathing smooth and regulated his body temperature using mana. When fatigue tickled at his muscles, he used brief spurts of Light magic to enhance their recovery. Using magic certainly was frowned upon but that was only for outward offensive spells. Internal recovery magic was simply considered self-sustainment and self-preservation. While Hun was certainly a more skilled and more patient fighter- Jake could outlast him.

Feeling the stress of the situation, Hun began to press Jake. His attacks became more frequent but less accurate. Hun started pushing into the middle of the mat more aggressively. However, Jake was quick to step back and retake his central position with equal force. Every time Hun moved in, he was edged back out by either the threat of an attack or a close swing to his face after his attack was parried away. The sweat built on his forehead and his stale expression waned. In his eyes, Jake must have looked like an immovable rock.

“Hyah!!” Hun’s muscles flexed as he stomped forward, his arms moving in a flurry as he started a seeming-final assault. Jake dipped to his right, circling the outside of the mat as he stepped to his strong side. He turned his body sideways partially, reducing the amount of his body left open to attack while using his sword as a shield. The long staff jutted forward again and again, but Jake smoothly diverted its path and blocked the strikes which were too difficult to fully evade.

Hun’s desperate move lost its steam quickly. While he had taken the center of the mat, it left him on an island. There was no protective edge of the mat to save him now. Jake waited for Hun to lunge forward before he suddenly changed his stance. As Hun thrust at Jake’s chest, the staff was struck downwards. Jake slashed down with his blade, whacking the staff into the mat. Then, he quickly advanced and stepped on the wooden pole. The sudden stomp surprised Hun, who hadn’t been firmly gripping the weapon. It slapped into the floor as Jake lunged into Hun’s face. His blade sliced across the boy’s face, cutting from cheek to cheek as he split open Hun’s mouth. Another step and Jake drove his closed left fist into the side of Hun’s temple.

Hun rolled onto his side and curled up to avoid further punishment. None came. Jake kicked the staff off his mat and was already returning to his corner. Two healers immediately ran over to tend to Hun as the boy was carried off. Mur barked out a few orders and Hun was taken out of the hall entirely- he wouldn’t be coming back. An unfortunate result. Hun had made a lot of progress recently but the dashes by his name were one too many today.

Jake let out a steady breath as he stood in the corner of his mat. Using a damp rag, he wiped the fat and blood off the edge of his blade, keeping it clean and the edge clear of debris. He had learned early that a sharp weapon would be necessary to maintain a high level of violence. If his blade were to dull or chip, it would lose durability for future fights and would become more difficult to cut with. It was also a big reason he chose the sword over the staff and spear.

The others were fighting to fulfill the true role of scout- they would seek out the Beasts and then call in the Warriors to do the actual fighting. Their dull and long weapons would be used more to keep the Beasts at bay and to cause damage to the Beast’s limbs, which would allow the Scouts to retreat and run.

Jake didn’t plan on calling in the Warriors to do his dirty work. He would slice the Maedra to pieces and eviscerate them with his own hands. His magic would burn their flesh and his sword would carve them to pieces. There would be no running, no calling for help, and no waiting for someone to come save him. In this dark pit of the Ravine, he would manage his safety and ensure victory on his own. The Warriors were inept and slow, and he didn’t trust them to be capable. After watching Tul defeat one of their supposed “Leaders”, Jake’s doubts about their ability had been cemented.

“Hara,” Mur barked, and another challenger stepped up to Jake’s mat. Another staff wielder and she was just as small as Hun. Jake dropped the rag off the mat and took his stance. Unlike Hun, however, Hara was impatient. She howled out a cry and jumped forward. Jake stepped low and swung his left arm up to catch the staff with his forearm. The wood cracked loudly against bone but Jake’s eyes didn’t so much as twitch as he thrust his blade forward. The edge tore fabric and cut open Hara’s side. Blood gushed from the wound as she collapsed to the mat. Jake kicked her in the stomach and shoved her off his mat.

“Stupid,” he scoffed, grabbing the fallen staff and tossing it out of the way as healers hurried to the fresh casualty. Mur huffed from the side of Jake’s mat and looked down at Hara as the girl was tended to.

“Stop the bleeding, nothing more. She’s finished.” Mur’s orders were absolute, and the healers nodded. Once the bleeding was stopped, Hara was told to leave the hall. The wound was still open and the red insides were visible to all who peered through her torn shirt. Without further help, it would likely be infected. Jake stared at the limping girl long enough to see her leave, then he turned his attention to the next person who had been called to face him.

Could he have helped her? Yes. He had learned enough healing magic within the last thirty days to mend such simple wounds. His forearm had already been healed by his internal use of magic. There wasn’t even a bruise on the skin. However, his job wasn’t to treat the wounded. His task was to win his fights. To maintain his position on the mat. To fight and fight until Mur called the end of the matches. Letting himself worry about the others made him weak, it distracted him. His focus needed to be on his opponent, their next move, his positioning, and his attacks. The rest of the hall around him was just one big mental pitfall he couldn’t let himself get stuck in.

Such an environment was all on purpose. True combat was chaotic and dangerous. By letting your focus slip, you exposed yourself to the enemy. Mur had harped on it frequently when Jake had first started, and Jake had found himself victim to many of Mur’s outside attacks. Jake had been harmed more by Mur’s violent teaching points than his opponents, and those painful strikes had worn him down. The more Jake made mistakes, the more violent Mur’s strikes had become. Jake had been knocked unconscious by a few of them.

But Jake had learned, and he wouldn’t let those surprise attacks get in his way anymore. He wouldn’t lose his ring, not again.

* * *

“Stop!” Mur shouted suddenly. Jake was about to finish off the sixth opponent for the day when Mur put an end to the fighting. Most of the students on the mats collapsed onto their backsides, exhausted from either their current battles or from the built-up fatigue from the day as a whole. Only three students didn’t collapse- Jake and the other two familiar faces. Ailuck and Reyna. The other mats had slowly rotated who was standing on them, the “Kings” of the mats changing every so often. Jake, Ailuck, and Reyna had been the only three constants. The Winners.

“Time to eat and rest. If you are on the outside of the ring, you have one hour. Reyna, Ailuck, Suru, Tyn, and Jake. You have two hours.” Mur stepped to the front of the hall and flipped over two large sand-filled hourglasses. One was small, half the size of the second, but both began to drop grains from the top half to the bottom.

Jake sat down at the edge of his mat as the hall erupted into a brief fit of chaos. The losers had a short time to get their food, and the dining hall was at least a five to ten-minute jog. Ordering a meal and eating the meal would take thirty minutes. Healing injuries would require a varied amount of time. Cleaning and preparing one’s weapon would take at least ten to fifteen minutes to conduct properly if the weapon had a blade. The staffs were easiest to fix up unless they were cracked, bowed, or damaged. Then the user would have to put in more work.

For Jake, while food was important, his blade was just as much. He didn’t need to worry about finding a healer as he could tend to himself and the two-hour limit gave him plenty of time to eat. Thus, while the others rushed to fill the dining hall and waste time staring at the back of each other’s heads, Jake gathered the materials he would need to sharpen his blade.

“You’ve progressed quite a bit, boy,” Mur spoke with a bit of a chuckle as he approached Jake. Jake’s eyes remained on his equipment as he began to clean the blade with a bit of water, oil, and a damp rag.

“I don’t have time to waste on mistakes. The Maedra are out there and I need to become strong enough to kill them.” Jake’s jaw tensed up. His two necklaces clinked beneath his shirt as he leaned forward to set up his whetstone. He applied a thin amount of oil to the sharpening stone and then dried his blade with a lint-less fabric.

“Rush to battle and you rush to die,” Mur rumbled as he sat down across from Jake. “You came to this hall a month ago with such a polite disposition. I can see that the days you’ve spent here have made you hard. There’s a fire in your eyes but it isn’t a good one, boy.” Mur’s voice carried in the now-empty hall, the implications of his tone heavy on Jake’s ears. Jake didn’t look up at his teacher, though, and began to run the edge of his blade slowly over the stone.

“You came here to learn how to fight the Maedra. You have certainly learned plenty. The bags under your eyes also tell me you continue to study magic. What drives such a desire for violence? Is it revenge? Fear? Greed? Or are you hoping to become a hero for this place? Maybe thinking you can take on the Maedra Horde all by yourself.”

Jake stopped his work. He stared down at the blade, his hands, and the stone. In the reflection of his blade, he could see Mur staring back at him. Jake felt his mind whirl for a moment, but only for a moment before he took in a steady breath.

“I’m not a hero…” Jake mumbled as he stared down at Mur’s reflection. “I just want to be strong enough to protect my friends.”

Mur’s eyes narrowed and the large man crossed his four arms, stacking them on top of each other as his thick biceps and forearms rested against his muscular chest. Mur was a Demon, a creature from the far north who had traveled as an adventurer for quite some time before eventually finding his way south. The ravine had piqued the interest of his party and, against Mur’s better judgment, they had come down into the ravine only to find Chul and Maedra. Chul had decimated the party, forced Mur and two others into the caves, and the Maedra had finished off the other two. Mur had stumbled across Scouts of this village after several days of wandering in the tunnels and hadn’t dared leave ever since. Both because he knew he could help them with his expertise and out of fear of having to fight Chul again.

When Jake informed Mur of Chul’s death, Mur laughed. It had come off as a surprise, as Chul was the strongest foe Mur had ever faced. The fact that there was something out there capable of defeating the Arachkin Guardian had made Mur feel like a fool and it reinforced the reason for him to train the young scouts.

“No. You want to be strong enough to avenge your friend, don’t you?” Mur’s words caused Jake to frown. He clenched his jaw and began to distract himself by sharpening his sword again. “You are not wrong for seeking that strength, boy, but I warn you. It won’t make you happy and you risk more than you think. Especially if it’s as powerful as a Guardian.”

Mur stood up and left the hall. Jake forced himself to stare at his sword and he forced himself to continue the work of sharpening its edge. Mur wasn’t incorrect- Jake wanted strength. He certainly wanted the strength to kill that Maudrake. If he got the opportunity, he would fight it with every intention of blowing it to pieces. Where Mur was wrong was that it wouldn’t make him happy. No, Jake would revel in delight at the sight of watching the Maudrake fall. He was sure of that.

Slaughtering the Maedra was something he knew for a fact made him happy. Those living corpses didn’t deserve to live on this planet. They were a virus. They killed anything which lived and leeched off the planet without any regard for anything but their own existence. The Maedra even ate each other in the absence of anything else, all so that they could grow stronger. It was a disgusting existence, one that Jake wanted to snuff out with his own hands. Chul’s existence in the Ravine had maintained a balance and had kept the Maedra’s numbers under control. Without his diligence, the Maedra festered in the dark like an uncontrolled plague. They were a threat to civilization down here and it wouldn’t be very long until the surface found itself under threat as well.

If Chul was right this wasn’t the only place the Maedra existed. How many other caverns and underground ravines were there? How many other Dragon Veins existed with hordes of Maedra sucking up the planet’s life essence? How many other pits existed where the Maedra existed, unchecked and uncontested?

“Too many…” Jake mumbled to himself as he finished his task. He wiped off his blade and plucked a hair from his head. He held the long fiber in front of himself before dragging his blade slowly against it. The fiber was neatly sliced in half after just a brief moment of contact with the razor-like edge of his weapon. Content, Jake cleaned up his tools and returned them all to the neat corner for the rest of the hall to use. He sheathed his blade and headed for the door.

Outside, Yae was sitting on the edge of the wooden platform, her feet dangling off the wood as she hummed to herself. Hearing the door, she looked over with a smile.

“All done?” She asked. Jake nodded and stepped into his sandals.

“Yea. Lunchtime.” He walked down the stairs and Yae hopped down to walk beside him.

“Tul and Xul are worried about you,” She spoke in her language- one that Jake could now understand. It was a distant Demon dialect, one thought to be long forgotten to the Surface but was a common language in these places. Mur helped Jake learn it in between combat lessons and Jake had also consulted the fairies for help with finding books on the language. There weren’t many, but enough for him to piece enough knowledge together. Yir was surprised by the fact that there were those out there still speaking in the tongue.

“Why?” Jake asked. Yae folded her hands behind her back and she swayed at his side.

“You don’t come back home very often. You don’t play with them as much. You don’t talk a lot anymore. A few scouts that have left the Hall recently also have said some sour things about you. They say you fight unfairly, you’re too aggressive, and you hurt too many people.” While Yae didn’t look at him directly, Jake could sense her unease as she spoke to him. Jake frowned and looked down a bit.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Yae smiled and bumped into him purposefully.

“It’s okay. The other scouts are jealous and I know you’re trying your best. Tul and Xul are just worried.” Yae kicked a small pebble as she looked away. Jake’s eyes twitched. An opening.

“And you?” Jake stared at the side of her head as she looked away.

“Of course I’m worried.” She didn’t turn her face. He grinned.

“Sorry.” Jake lightly bumped her but she didn’t fall away from him.

“Idiot,” Yae mumbled.

The two entered the dining hall together just as a wave of the other students were leaving. They made their orders and waited patiently for their food to be prepared. Jake ordered plenty of meat. Yae forced him to also order soup, bread, and a side dish of rice and vegetables. She only ordered a light meal, as she hadn’t much of a need to eat. When their plates were ready, they were flagged down by Tul and Xul who were also in the hall.

“If it isn’t the golden boy himself!” Xul shouted as the two approached.

“Sit down, you.” Tul hissed, not wanting the attention as a few surrounding tables glared at them. Xul ignored him and grinned wide as Jake and Yae set their trays across from each other. Xul and Jake embraced lightly before sitting.

“I heard you got another two bodies to your name!” Xul cackled as his fork began to hover dangerously close to a piece of meat on Jake’s plate. Jake nimbly deflected the enemy utensil as he plucked up the meat into his mouth.

“Xul,” Tul grumbled. Jake waved it off.

“It’s not like I do it on purpose,” Jake muttered as he chewed the meat. He glanced over at Yae as she finally raised her head and finished with her blessing of the meal before she began to eat.

“No, but it’s always funny. Ah, I remember when you were so small! So inexperienced!” Xul let out a dramatic gasp as he hugged his fork. Jake shook his head.

“That was like a week ago. What happened to you?” Tul added, narrowing his eyes as he stuffed his mouth full of some green leafy thing. Jake couldn’t understand how he ate that stuff. It was so bland and lacked any kind of flavor.

“Complacency makes you weak,” Jake shot Tul a brief look before filling his mouth with soup.

“Oh, I wonder who that could be for…” Xul whistled lightly as he looked away from the table. Tul rumbled at Xul. Xul let out a yelp as the table thumped.

“No fighting at the table,” Yae’s interjection settled the quarrel before any other violence occurred. Xul hissed at Tul before filling his mouth with food.

“Mur’s training is efficient and I’m not going to let myself waste it.” Jake stuffed his cheeks with meat. As he reached for more, his eyes locked with Yae. She stared at him, unenthused with his eating choices for far. His fork slowly drifted over to the vegetables and her annoyed look became a bit brighter. Jake sighed.

“That’s your favorite word,” Xul, on the other hand, had a plate full of entirely meat. “Efficient. What’s it mean?” He spoke with his mouthful, much to Yae’s ire. It earned him another scolding.

“To lack. Waste.” Tul thought hard about his explanation. Jake had been teaching them words as well. While it hit the mark, it wasn’t enough for Xul to be satisfied.

“You’re just as dumb as me,” Xul grumbled as he received the half-assed answer. Yae giggled.

“He’s not wrong. Efficient means to have a maximum amount of productivity with the least amount of effort.” Wanting to at least alleviate some stupidity in the air, Jake recited a definition he had read on the word a while back during a trip to the library. Jake had known what the word meant and did his best to incorporate the mindset into everything he did- but he hadn’t known the language meaning to it. After reading the word in the dictionary, he had become a bit more confident in explaining himself to others.

“Produ...what?” Xul’s confusion only shifted from one word to the next, and Jake wasn’t going to play teacher for the day.

“Forget it,” Jake rolled his eyes and stuffed more food into his mouth- this time making sure to include vegetables and rice in the mouthful.

“Are you Jake?” A voice snatched up the attention of the table and the four heads turned to stare up at a decent-sized individual. They had a few scars on their face, arms, and a gash on their left leg.

“Houz asskin?” Jake ignored Yae’s warnings from before and spoke to the stranger with his mouth full of food, his jaw still in the process of gnawing it to pieces.

“I am Yara, brother of Hara. My sister was hurt very badly after your fight. I’m here to return the favor.” The stranger slammed the butt of his long staff into the floor, likely for some additional effect. Except, he was unable to pick it back up. The floor wrapped around the spear and the rock held it in place. Xul and Tul both sighed and Yae rumbled with annoyance. Her peaceful lunch was being interrupted- again.

“Sorry, not interested.” Jake turned his attention back to his plate as the stranger struggled to free his spear.

“What is this?!” He shouted.

“Mahic,” Jake spoke with his mouthful again. Yae kicked him under the table. He winced, swallowed, and apologized. “Sorry. Magic.”

“So, you won’t even fight me fairly?!” The stranger shouted and grabbed the table. His meager muscles flexed as he tried to flip the table, but it didn’t budge. The staff wasn’t the only thing being held firmly in place.

“I’m not going to fight you, period. You’re an annoyance.” Jake spun his finger in the air, creating a small drill in the air. With a flick, he shot the gust of wind into the stranger’s face and knocked the other boy backward. The cone of air was small but the impact sent the boy tumbling into the other table. Thankfully, it was vacant of hungry mouths. He groaned as he rolled off it and into the chairs.

“Ouch,” Xul mumbled as the boy lay on the floor in a bit of pain.

“He’ll be fine,” Jake added, continuing with his meal.

“His pride won’t be,” Xul chuckled, watching as a few others decided to check and see if the boy was at least alive. He was, and he swatted at the concerned hands as he struggled back to his feet.

“Leave him alone, Xul.” Tul, who had also been staring with a stupid grin, tried to look the part of the better brother as he returned to his food. Xul did not listen and continued to stare. Entertainment was hard to come by.

“Ten more days then?” Yae suddenly spoke up, and Jake nodded. She looked concerned.

“Ten days,” he muttered.

“Oh, you’ll be put on a team then, won’t you?” Tul hummed and stared at Jake. Xul held up his fingers as he started to count. Yae and Tul stared at him, their form of entertainment ever-present.

“Ah-!” His brain clicked as his math added up. “You’re almost at forty!”

“Yes, Xul. I am almost at forty days.” Jake’s voice was monotone as he pointed out the obvious. Xul either didn’t pick up on the tease or he ignored it.

“That’s awesome! Maybe you’ll be with us! We just lost one of our other guys. Guess he slipped up in the tunnels a few days ago or something.”

“Unlikely. If he’s from Mur’s Hall, he’ll go with one of the Red Teams. He won’t be placed with us.”

“A shame! It’s a lot more fun in Green land.” Xul twirled a hunk of meat around on his fork before gobbling it down.

While the Scouts all had a similar task of finding the Beasts, the Scouts were broken up into four color groups- Red, Blue, Green, and White. The colors were both a designation of skill and designated which tunnels the teams would be sent down. Red teams were the most skilled and experienced units that were sent into the more dangerous tunnels with a high chance of running into the Maedra. White teams were the least skilled and they were sent into tunnels mainly to gather materials and as couriers to other villages. Their tunnels were frequently cleared and patrolled by Warrior teams.

Blue teams were a step above Green but they were somewhat interchangeable and tended to share tunnels. Green teams were not allowed to enter Blue tunnels unless they were escorted by Blue teams. Blue teams could enter Green tunnels without an escort but their compensation would be less for the exploration. Any team could use White tunnels for transit or other tasks.

Jake learned that the tunnels branching out from the village weren’t random and were documented heavily by the Scouts and upper echelons of the Village. There were also numerous other villages within the ravine, all connected by the tunnels. Warriors frequently patrolled these connecting tunnels and ensured they were kept clear of Maedra. Villagers could use these tunnels to travel between villages but would need to be escorted by Scouts to and from to ensure safety.

The tunnel Jake had used when he’d first come down into the ravine was originally classified as a Green tunnel. However, it was changed to Blue after Tul’s report. The sudden increase of Maedra within it, and the knowledge that it led to the Dragon Vein, made it too dangerous for normal Scouting operations. It had been changed to a Red tunnel for a few days but was changed back to Blue when the traces of Maedra within the tunnel dropped.

“No. I’ll be in a Blue team,” Jake spoke with confidence, which made Tul and Xul look at him weirdly.

“Uh, no one who comes from Mur’s hall goes anywhere except the Red teams,” Tul said bluntly. Xul was about to add to that, but Jake shook his head.

“I’ll be in a Blue team, trust me.” Jake stared down at his plate as he began to scoop up the last of the meat and rice. He finished them quickly before turning his attention to the remaining soup and vegetables.

Xul and Tul looked at each other, and then over at Yae. Yae stared at Jake, her eye piercing into his forehead as she waited for him to look up at her. He never did as he finished his food.

“Time’s almost up. I’ve got to go.” Jake cleaned his plate in silence and then stood up.

“Jake.” Yae snipped, and Jake hesitated. He waited for only a single breath before stepping away. He carried his tray to the return line and then left the facility.

Tul was right. All of Mur’s prior students had gone to the Red teams. Mur’s training was the best at producing skilled Scouts and individuals who could fight the Maedra when necessary. Mur’s scouts were unflinching and the Maedra were easier to deal with than the constant brawling within the hall. By the fortieth day, fighting was second nature to the graduates.

Of course, fighting wasn’t all there was to being a Scout. Reconnaissance, tracking, magic use for the able, and teamwork were all additional skills that needed to be learned. However, the Red teams didn’t operate like the other teams. Red teams knew they would be running into Maedra, it was only a matter of when it happened, not if.

Combat for a Scout was a daily occurrence and training for such was a priority. Being proficient in battle meant living long enough for the Warriors to catch up to you once the fighting started. Teamwork was unnecessary, as it was up to the individual to survive in the swarm. Magic required time, and in direct contact with the Maedra there was no time to chant, thus most Red team scouts never learned magic. However, even though Jake was a capable fighter and strong with magic, becoming a member of a Red team had one other quirk attached to it that would be near impossible to overcome.

Red team Scouts were hand-picked by the squad leaders. These squad leaders looked for capable fighters that wouldn’t prove to be a liability on the scout missions and individuals who could ensure the overall success of the mission into the tunnel. Jake was the opposite. He was a ticking bomb waiting to go off, as he didn’t hide his desire to eliminate any Maedra he came across. While it was the case that Scouts would fight the Maedra, it wasn’t their task to destroy them. Jake was capable of doing just that and he could do it well. His magic would allow him to control a wide area and kill a large number of Maedra.

The issue was that Jake’s wide-area spells didn’t differentiate between friend and foe. If other scouts were too close, they too would be caught up in the magic, and die as a result. If Jake was more accurate and used single-target spells, then he could hit the Maedra directly. But the exchange was a loss of crowd control capabilities. Thus, the burden would fall on his team to pick up the missed Maedra. What team would want such a volatile member?

Jake knew full well he wouldn’t be picked up for a Red squad. Instead, he would fall into the Blue squads. Blue squads were not cherry-picked, members were assigned to them and the squad leaders had to deal with the players they were dealt. Most of the time the squads meshed decently well, as the fresh scouts weren’t as violent or trained by teachers like Mur. These members were taught the necessary skills to do their scouting tasks and frequently went on practice missions into the White and Green tunnels to gain field experience before their assignments. Some individuals were picked up straight from these practice runs.

That would not be the case for Jake and he knew it. But even so, it didn’t matter. The village needed scouts and it needed the Maedra to be dealt with if it wanted to continue expanding and exploring the tunnel systems. The ravine was far too dangerous for the village to just toss him to the side so it would make plenty of use for him in the Blue teams. Well, as long as the squad was competent. Jake wasn’t about to let himself get yanked around by a pitiful leader. He’d die before he let that happen.

He returned to the hall to an earful of controlled chaos once more. The losers had already begun their training for the second half of the day. They were all sparring as usual, with Mur slowly walking around the outside of the mats. The healers were patiently waiting nearby the mats to intervene at the ends of the matches, and several students were already being tended to for injuries. Jake hadn’t seen any students sitting outside when he’d walked in. No one new had been tossed out. Yet.

The large hourglass still had plenty of sand left in it, so Jake quietly took a seat in the corner of the hall. He set down his weapon in front of him, pulled it from the red sheath, and began to tend to the blade as he enjoyed his rest.

“Always the quiet one, aren’t you?” His peace didn’t last very long, as the one woman he hadn’t fought yet decided to bother him. Reyna.

“Not on purpose.” Jake didn’t look up from his blade as he inspected its edge. Reyna didn’t ask to sit down either but she did so anyway.

“I’ve been eyeing you recently. Your methods of fighting are quite extraordinary.” Reyna set her twin staves down at her feet as she leaned against the wall, her eyes locked onto Jake’s side profile as he actively ignored looking at her.

“And?” While he wasn’t against being friendly with anyone, not knowing her intentions for speaking with him made him uneasy. Especially since she hadn’t spoken to him or even looked his way the entire time he’d been in the hall. Until now, of course.

“I’m just curious as to why you choose such a violent fighting style. You use your hands, a sword, and you are known to even use magic in some capacity.” As she pointed out the obvious, she leaned in closer and closer until Jake was forced to lean away to keep her out of his personal space. “Almost as if you expect to fight the Beasts directly… and not even wait for the Warriors to help you.”

Jake scoffed. “Why wait for help that may never come, when I can simply handle the Beasts myself?” Jake finally glanced over at Reyna, narrowing his eyes and politely asking her to move away. She did, thankfully.

“That’s quite the assumption that you can handle the Beasts all by yourself. A lot of confidence in your words. So much that I think you might get yourself killed.” Reyna neatly folded her hands in her lap as she turned her eye to watch the other matches. Jake was tempted to admit he had fought the Maedra before but he was told to keep it a secret by Mur. If the other students knew of his experience, they would likely look at him differently.

“I call it trust, not confidence.” Jake closed one eye and examined the fine edge of his blade. He had checked it already before but he figured making it look like he was busy wouldn’t hurt.

“Trust that you’ll die?” Reyna scoffed.

“Trust that I’m better,” Jake retorted sharply. Reyna giggled and then grabbed her two staves.

“Bold words for someone so new to fighting. You’ll learn that your violent tendencies will make you quite the easy target for the Beasts. I hope you don’t mind living with one less hand.” She stood up as she spoke and then left without even saying goodbye. Jake was tempted to throw his sword at her back but chose not to do anything of the sort. Whatever reason she had for coming to bug him was one he didn’t care to deal with. He was far more worried about the next set of matches he would have to endure.

All so he could earn that damned third circle.