This vast camp in the shadow of the Red Mountain reflected the legendary fighting skills of the Rhazgords. From the outside, it was a war machine, born in the midst of chaos, but inside, strict discipline and absolute order reigned.

Everything was built in perfect symmetry. The stone huts were made of red rocks brought from the mountains, and almost the entire camp was covered with them. The barracks were arranged in long thin rows, each the same size, the same distance apart and in the same order. Even the smallest details were calculated. There was an air of discipline in the camp. Only the experienced eye could see that every movement was pre-planned and organised.

In the centre was a huge training area. This large, dirt-floored area was like a sacred place where the youth of the people learnt martial arts. The older warriors lined up early in the morning to train the youngsters. The disciples ranged in age from 10 to 14; from the youngest to the oldest, everyone was trained with the same discipline and determination. Barefoot boys charged each other with their wooden swords, then waited for a command from their instructors. Training was the cornerstone of the Rhazgord warriors' struggle for survival.

Their every move was carefully watched. An undisciplined step or an incorrect sword swing was immediately corrected. These boys learnt not only how to fight, but also patience and obedience. They were brought up as part of the warrior tradition of the people. The instructors were harsh; those who made mistakes were punished mercilessly, while those who succeeded were quietly honoured.

Next to the training ground were the tall towers where sentries patrolled. Their gaze travelled from the mountainside to the horizon. They were strong and disciplined warriors, each of them moving silently from place to place. Their eyes kept an eye on what was going on outside the camp, while the order inside was never disturbed. At night, these towers were lit by huge torches and every corner of the camp was carefully watched.Silence symbolised security and discipline.

Everyday life here was centred entirely on war. In the mornings the children trained, while in the afternoons the adult warriors undertook more rigorous drills. Each of them wore their armour and weapons with great care. The symbols on their armour reflected their rank and prestige. From the youngest children to the most experienced warriors, everyone had a symbol, which signalled that they were part of this warrior society.

The days were full of training and discipline. In the evenings, even in the dining halls inside the barracks, there was a certain order and regularity. Everything went according to a certain plan; it was clear when to eat and when to rest. The most basic principle of the camp was that order could not be broken under any circumstances.Discipline was the greatest weapon of the Rhazgord warriors.

The Rhazgords not only lived to fight; they also lived for war. Every step, every breath was a preparation for the battles to come. They were no ordinary warriors. They were trained war machines, raised with discipline and determination in the shadow of Mount Rhaz.

Belisarius could not believe what he saw. He had seen the discipline of Rhazgord warriors before, but what he was facing was on a whole new level. As he looked back at the city, he couldn't help but think how organised and beautiful it could have been if half the care had been given to the city. Corvus saw his friend's admiring gaze and was delighted. He raised his head and looked up at the sun, which was just overhead. It was noon and the training of the young men was almost over. He nudged Belisarius, who was trying to observe everything, trying not to miss even the slightest detail.

"If you have finished your observations, close your mouth and let's go. I'll introduce you to my brother. His training should be almost over."

Belisarius knew almost nothing about Corvus' family. He had never asked, nor had Corvus ever told him. He wanted to guess for himself which of the boys in the training grounds was Corvus' brother. Although he wanted to watch more closely, Corvus did not allow it. Whoever he was, he could not disturb the order in the camp.

Belisarius spotted the boy standing in the front row, sparring with a boy a little bigger than him. Although the boy's movements were full of inexperience, he was outclassing his opponent. He had to be the best fighter in the group. Belisarius thought this young warrior was Corvus' brother. He looked at Corvus to confirm whether he had guessed correctly, but Corvus was looking elsewhere with eyes that were a little angry and a little melancholic.

There was a trainer and a boy he was scolding. This boy looked much smaller than his peers and was quite frail.The reason he was being scolded by his trainer was that he had lost to his opponent, a girl, in a sparring match as soon as the fight started.

The boy kept averting his eyes, but the instructor noticed this every time and beat him mercilessly with an iron bar. Knowing that it was pointless to cry or avoid, the boy stood still, praying for the instructor to leave him alone.

After a few minutes, it was time for adult training and the children had to vacate the field. As soon as the training was over, the children lined up again and loudly greeted their trainers. The children who had finished their training were excited to see Corvus and ran towards Corvus as if their previous discipline had never existed. They formed a circle around Corvus and started asking him questions, showing some of the movements they had done a few minutes ago again and asking Corvus to evaluate their movements.

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Corvus was interested in some children and ignored most of them. Most of the children Corvus was interested in were from the Tiamat Family and were very talented. Corvus was giving some advice when the loud voice of the instructor caused the children to run away. Three old instructors approached with big smiles on their faces.

As soon as Corvus saw his old instructors, he greeted them with respect. Corvus respected these men very much.He had learnt everything he knew from these men and if it were not for them he would not be considered a candidate for the next Sanguinar. The instructors' gaze shifted to Belisarius. 'Corvus, the young man standing beside you seems to have had a good training, but I am not sure if he is worthy to fight beside you, though with a little training he could be a good warrior,' the oldest looking instructor said in Adler Language. These words bothered both Belisarius and Corvus a little, but Corvus put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Belisariu is my guest and crown prince of the Kingdom of Adler. He brought him here with me today to see the skills of our warriors. He is also a very good fighter, from what I saw on my last mission, even though he only started using a sword a few years ago."

Hearing the name of the Kingdom of Adler made the old man curious. He took a closer look at the young Belisarius before him. "So you are the prince of Adler. I came to your country when it was not yet so weak, and your ruler then, if not a true warrior, certainly had the eyes of a warrior."

Belisarius was both honoured and a little saddened by the old man's words. "I am grateful for your kind words, sir. In fact, one of my purposes in coming here is to learn a few things from great warriors like you and use what I have learnt to restore my country to its former might."

The old man liked Belisarius' respectful and confident manner. After a moment's thought, he turned his eyes to Corvus, who was still training in a corner of the training ground. 'If you don't mind, I'd like to see Belisarius' skills." Corvus looked pensive. When he saw Belisarius nod, he said, 'As long as you don't kill him, sir, I don't mind,' and gave a fake laugh. His gaze shifted back to his brother.

"When the training is over, you can come and get your friend. I can guarantee he won't die, but I can't guarantee he won't get injured." The instructor nudged a thoughtful Corvus. 'Go look after your brother,' he said and led Belisarius away.

During all these conversations, the soldiers had already entered the training area and started their training.Belisarius took his place among men much larger than himself. The old instructor was training him specially.

Corvus stood a few steps behind his brother, who was attacking the training dummy with all his fury, and began to watch him silently. There were mistakes in his brother's every move. He was aware of his mistakes and the more he made mistakes, the more he got angry and the more he got angry, the more mistakes he made. Finally, the wooden sword in his hand could not stand the boy's mistakes any longer and flew out of his hand. As the sword escaped from his hands, the boy fell face down on the ground. He injured his eyebrow with the effect of falling.

He was checking the wound on his eyebrow when his brother's shadow fell on him. The boy never expected this, but he reacted quickly. He immediately jumped up and saluted his brother like a soldier. "I apologise for not realising you were coming, sir!" he said.

Corvus' sad look never changed. "How many times have I warned you not to call me sir, Volmir. You are not yet a warrior and I am your brother. Not your master.' he said as he wiped the blood from Volmir's brow. He was also examining the bruises on Volmir's body. When he touched the bruise on Volmir's arm, Volmir groaned in pain.

"You've been badly beaten, go get some rest."

"Sir... Brother, if you don't mind, I'd like to show you my moves..." suddenly his eyes widened and he looked a little scared "If you have time... I wanted to show Kaelyra, but she didn't have time."

Corvus knew exactly why she wasn't interested in Volmir. Kaelyra was busy calming down the big families that Corvus had pissed off. Corvus felt some guilt, but the young man needed to go and tend to his wounds. A serious expression appeared on his face.

"I told you to go and tend to your wounds."

Volmir's dreams were dashed. He headed for the infirmary without a word from his brother. He hadn't gone very far when his brother's voice cheered him up again.

"Come find me when you're sure you're well treated! I'll show you a few moves. Maybe we can even have a little sparring match!"

Corvus sighed deeply as he watched his cheered younger brother's back. He was sad, but he had no time for that.He had to go and organise the troops that would be at his disposal once he had defeated Varek. Of course, he also had to go and see his new superior and his uncle Valerius.