Allowing the brutish elder to kidnap Sir Leonard went against every instinct baked in Neer's body, but he had been very clear that she wasn't to interfere with the trials, and she wasn't about to disobey.

Still, having spent the better part of her life as a bodyguard, Neer had to fight the urge to catch up with her leader and free him. To avoid doing anything foolish, she hadn't gone back to bed, knowing it'd be useless to try and catch some sleep. Instead, she walked to the edges of the encampment, looking for a place to practice in peace and work out some of her stress.

As stealthily as she could make it, she called upon her mana, attempting to go through her routine without being noticed by anyone whose senses might be fine-tuned enough.

Just as she was getting into a groove and her worries were fading away, she picked up someone trying to be sneaky.

"Treon might have become safe for you, but walking around at night in an orc camp is not a great idea, kid." Neer sighed, putting down her weapon. It looked like she wasn't getting any time for herself, unfortunately.

"Ah, sorry." Came the sheepish voice, and Oliver walked out from behind a rock, scratching the back of his head. "I didn't mean to bother you."

Neer let out a low chuckle, shaking her head as she wiped a few drops of sweat from her brow. "You're not bothering me. Just figured you might get into trouble if you keep sneaking around like that." She turned to face him, her large, imposing frame towering over the young man, though her expression was more amused than threatening.

Oliver grinned sheepishly, still fidgeting with the straps of his light armor. "Yeah, I get that. But, honestly, I couldn't sleep either. I keep thinking about everything—Sir Leonard, the trials, the dryad…"

Neer crossed her arms and tilted her head. "You're worried about him, huh?"

Oliver hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I mean, I know he's strong—stronger than anyone I know of—but these trials are different. The orcs don't want the most powerful man. They're different from what I expected. I mean, I knew they weren’t goblins who'll mostly obey anyone strong enough. But I didn’t expect them to follow their traditions to the letter, and I keep thinking that Leonard might have a harder time winning them over than he thinks."

Neer narrowed her eyes slightly, studying him. The kid was smart, no doubt about that. He had good instincts, even if he was still green. "Leonard will win," she said firmly. "I have no doubt about that. He's got more power in his pinky than everyone else here combined, and he’s the best leader I’ve ever known. The orcs will recognize that even if it takes some time."

"But…" Oliver began, glancing around the camp to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "Do you think they'll accept him even if he’s human? I mean, knowing they'll be led away from their lands?"

Neer exhaled through her nose. "Some will. Others… might resist, at least at first. The orcs respect strength, but they're also stubborn as hell. Just like with humans, there are always those who don't want to see change, who are afraid of it. That's where the real challenge lies."

Oliver frowned, mulling over her words. "So, you're saying the hard part won't be to win the trials and lead them into battle. It's convincing them afterward that Leonard is the right choice that will be hard, right?"

Neer nodded. "Exactly. Winning the trials is the first step, but ensuring the orcs stay unified under his leadership is the real challenge. You have to remember they are currently one big tribe only because they lost so much to the Incursion, and Grakkor was the only Champion capable of protecting them while they rebuilt. Once they get their feet back together, they will challenge the status quo, whether under another warchief they recognize as worthy like Grakkor or an overwhelming force like Leonard."

It was a more serious discussion than Neer wanted to have out in the open. Yes, she wasn't saying anything anyone with a brain didn't already know, but that didn't mean letting every druid or shaman in the vicinity listen to her thoughts was a good idea.

They stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of the night filling the air around them. Then, Neer glanced at Oliver, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Tell you what, kid. Since we're both up and can't seem to relax, how about I teach you a few strikes? You've been practicing your basic skills, right?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, for once looking like any other teenager. "Yeah, I have!" Then, under her unflinching stare, he crumbled, "But… well, there's this one skill I still can't quite get right. It's kind of embarrassing because it's expected to be good at it for any paladin worth their salt… I also might have kept it hidden from Sir Leonard."

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Neer raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Which one?"

"Bash," Oliver admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just can't seem to get the hang of it. I know it's supposed to be simple, but…"

Neer laughed, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "Bash, huh? That's a good one. Simple, sure, but not easy."

"Yeah, I remember Sir Leonard saying that it was the kind of thing that you either got immediately or had to spend a stupid amount of time perfecting. I guess I'm the second…" he grumbled.

"Alright, show me what you have." Gesturing to the empty space around them, Neer pushed the kid with the other hand. If he wanted her help, he had to show where he was.

Grabbing one of the many wooden shields hanging around the training area, Oliver settled into a stance and, after a brief moment in which he called upon a significant amount of mana, he charged forward. His shield lit up with energy as he did, and his steps became heavy, almost as if inexorable. But by the end of it, the problem became apparent.

He can't follow through. He's crazy talented and has the best mana control I've seen in anyone under Expert, but that might be actually hurting him. He's so good at it that he can compensate for any mistake.

When he turned his big, hopeful eyes to her, she almost felt bad for her frown, but she couldn't afford to be overly kind. "That was shit."

"Aw, man."

"The key to Bash isn't just brute strength or great mana control—it's about overwhelming whatever's in front of you. It's about channeling that force, that will to break through, into a single, focused charge."

Oliver straightened up, paying close attention to her words. "So, I shouldn’t just weave the pattern and hit hard?"

Neer shook her head. "Nope. You lack intent. When you use Bash, you need to feel that drive, that desire to break through, to overwhelm whatever's in your way. That's what gives the skill its power. You have to want it, deep down. It's one of those cases where too much of a good thing is bad. You are concentrating too much on the magical aspect rather than on the actual execution. Bash is not a spell; no matter that the magicians think skills are just spells wrapped in another form, they are fundamentally different. The mana pattern in skills is there to aid you. It's not the skill itself."

Oliver nodded, determination gleaming in his eyes. "Alright, I think I understand, but could you show me one time how it's done properly?"

Neer grinned and grabbed a shield of her own from the nearby rack, stepping back and motioning for him to take a stance. "Watch closely."

Her body coiled with power, and even though she only took a single step, the air rippled with the force of the blow as she brought her shield forward in a controlled, forceful strike. "See? Focus your energy, feel that drive, and then let it all go in one decisive motion. You have to want it.”

Oliver nodded and adjusted his stance, mimicking her movements. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when he opened them again, his gaze took on a new intensity. He swung his shield, and though it wasn't perfect, Neer could see the improvement in his form—there was more determination, more intent behind it.

"Better," Neer said, nodding in approval. "Keep practicing. You'll get there."

Oliver smiled brightly at her show of confidence. He resumed his practice, each time coming closer to the ideal of the skill. Neer watched him with satisfaction, pleased to see his progress. It wouldn't take long for him to get it down.

That was when she felt it. Given Oliver’s significant mana usage, Neer was prepared so she didn’t miss as a subtle presence approached.

She turned her head slightly, sharpening her senses as she caught sight of Hussa stepping into the clearing. The orc moved with the quiet grace of a predator, her eyes locked on Neer’s.

"Is this what you really want to do with your life?" Hussa's voice was low, almost a growl, as she stopped a few paces away.

Neer frowned, her grip tightening on her weapon as she straightened up. "What do you mean?"

Hussa's eyes flicked to Oliver, who was still practicing, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Helping that man's apprentice. Training him, serving him… You must be more human than orc if you're willing to live so subserviently."

Neer clenched her jaw, anger flaring in her chest. She took a deep breath, remembering Leonard's orders to keep things calm. She forced herself to swallow her rage, her voice coming out as a low, controlled growl. "Helping a friend's apprentice is not debasing. It's called loyalty."

Hussa snorted, a mocking laugh escaping her lips. "Loyalty? To a human? You're broken, Neer. Real orcs would never allow themselves to be owned by a human. Even if it means dying, we'd rather fight than submit."

Neer's fists tightened, knuckles cracking as she fought to keep her temper in check. She glared at Hussa, hissing with barely suppressed fury. "I am not broken. I follow Leonard because I choose to. You don't understand anything of what I've been through or what real strength is."

I was an idiot to think she might understand me. Just because she's a pureblood doesn't mean her opinions are better than anyone else's. That must be why Leonard looked so disappointed when I listened to her as if she were the only source of truth.

Hussa's laughter echoed in the clearing, cold and derisive. "Keep telling yourself that. But deep down, you know the truth. Orcs don't bend to humans. You're just too weak to face it."

Neer clenched her teeth, her rage bubbling beneath the surface like a storm barely held in check. Hussa's words cut deep, slicing into her pride. Had this been any other occasion, she'd have answered the provocation with a duel, but she couldn't mess this up for Leonard, and something told her it would be playing in Hussa's hands.

The orc watched her with a predatory smile, clearly relishing the sight of Neer's frustration. When Neer didn't respond or lash out as Hussa had expected, the latter took a step closer, her eyes gleaming maliciously. She moved with purpose into the training area, hungrily looking at Oliver, who was still absorbed in his practice.

The squire noticed the shift in the atmosphere a heartbeat too late. By the time he looked up, Hussa was already in his space, looming over him with a sneer. "Let me show you a real bash," she said, dripping with venom. Before Neer could react, Hussa swung the broad side of her warhammer forward in a brutal, sweeping strike aimed directly at his chest.

Instinct and training kicked in, and Oliver barely managed to enhance his body at the last second, diving out of the way as the lump of metal whistled through the air, narrowly missing him. He hit the ground hard, rolling to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he stared at Hussa in shock.

Neer's roar of fury split the night.