Elysian met Hugo's gaze, his eyes cold and calculating. "This is a real fight, Captain. In battle, there are no breaks, no moments of respite. They need to learn this now, in a controlled environment, rather than when their lives—and the lives of others—truly hang in the balance."

Hugo's scowl deepened, but a glimmer of understanding flickered in his eyes. "And if they fail?"

"They won't," Elysian stated with quiet confidence. "But if they do, we're here to ensure they survive the lesson."

Down on the battlefield, Bran and Osric exchanged a look of determination. Despite their exhaustion, they readied their weapons once more.

"Ready, my friend?" Osric called, a grim smile on his face.

Bran nodded, twirling his staff. "Always. Let's show our little lord here what we're made of," he said with a bite in his tone. He didn't even call the young noble 'young master' but 'little lord,' stressing the 'little' part more than the other. This clearly showed that the usually mild-mannered and gentle servant had another side to him. Though clearly irritated by what was happening, his face showed otherwise. He grinned as if having received a treat, excitement in his eyes that screamed he savored every moment of what was unfolding.

Both Elysian and Osric turned to look at the older boy, surprised by Bran's response.

Elysian chuckled, irked by the jab of his servant calling him little but quite satisfied by his positive change. "Good," he muttered softly, his eyes glinting with delight at the transformation he saw in the boy.

Osric was also amused by his partner's response, shaking his head in disbelief. "Right, let's show this tiny lord of ours what we've learned," he agreed. Gone was his usual indifferent expression, replaced by a savage grin, wild and out for blood.

"Hey, you b*stards!" Elysian gritted his teeth, playfully responding. "I'm neither tiny nor little. I'm still young. I have room to grow."

Both Bran and Osric laughed at that. Even the soldiers joined in.

Hugo, however, glanced at him, scrutinizing him seriously.

"What are you looking at?" Elysian asked, raising a brow defensively when he noticed the officer's gaze.

"You're delusional, boy," Hugo said seriously, shaking his head. "Even when you grow older, you'll still remain small. I can clearly see it."

"Bastard, don't curse me like that," Elysian scowled, snorting, acting as if that statement didn't affect him. Having lived his previous life, and though it pained him, their words held a truth that irked him more than he wanted to admit. "I know I'll grow bigger and taller. I guarantee it."

Hugo and his soldiers just looked at him in silence, greatly doubting his words.

Elysian could only grumble in silence as he looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment.

The moment of levity passed quickly as the night tooths closed in. Bran and Osric's laughter faded, replaced by looks of fierce determination. They stood back-to-back, weapons at the ready and their resolve hardening. The air crackled with tension as the creatures circled, their eerie howls filling the night.

Hugo signaled the soldiers to raise their shields, forming a protective barrier around them to guard against any stray night tooths. Meanwhile, Elysian watched his two companions intently, his hands clenched at his sides. "Now," he murmured, "we'll see what they're truly capable of."

The night erupted into chaos as the battle resumed with renewed ferocity. Bran's iron staff whirled through the air, its aura-infused tip leaving trails of light as it connected with the night tooths. Each strike was precise, calculated, yet delivered with raw power that sent the creatures flying back. He was like a titan, an unassailable mountain that promised doom to those enemies that dared to draw close as he used the momentum of each attack to fuel the next.

Osric, in contrast, was a blur of motion. His twin blades flashed in the moonlight, each strike finding its mark with deadly accuracy. His hands moved with an economy of motion, no energy wasted as he ducked, weaved, and struck. Where Bran was raw power, Osric was finesse, his blades seeming to find every weak point in the night tooths' defenses.

Together, they formed a formidable team. When a night tooth lunged at Bran's blind spot, Osric's blade would flash out, severing a limb or slicing through shadowy flesh. When Osric found himself momentarily overwhelmed, Bran's staff would sweep through, clearing space and giving his companion room to maneuver.

Their cries and the sound of their weapons striking true echoed across the field, a testament to their determination and skill. As the fight raged on, it became clear that this was more than just a test of strength—it was a crucible, forging two warriors into something greater if they could overcome it.

Hugo, despite his initial objections, found himself captivated by the display. Still, it did not soothe his worry for the two boys. They fought admirably, attacking with the skill of seasoned warriors far beyond their years. Without a doubt, it was truly impressive. However, as the fight wore on, he could see chinks in their armor. Their enemies were simply too numerous. It didn't help that they were standing back to back, surrounded by night tooths on all sides. While they defended each other's backs effectively, it also left their flanks vulnerable when they attacked, leading to mounting injuries.

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Another problem reared its ugly head as the corpses of fallen night tooths piled up around them. This slowly elevated the beasts' attacks, making them harder to defend against and opening up a new front for the creatures to assault.

Hugo's expression turned grave, clearly seeing that if nothing changed, the two young warriors would soon be in dire straits. He glanced at Elysian, concern etched on his face. "You're pushing them to their limits. We need to intervene. If this continues, they'll be badly wounded or worse, they could end up dead."

"Sometimes," Elysian replied, his eyes never leaving the battle, "it's only at our limits that we discover who we truly are."

Despite Elysian's calm demeanor, a flicker of tension crossed his face. He watched as Bran narrowly avoided a vicious swipe, only for Osric to stumble slightly, fatigue clearly setting in. The young noble's fingers twitched, as if fighting the urge to signal for intervention.

"Boy," Hugo pressed, his voice urgent, "there's a fine line between testing one's limits and needless sacrifice. They've proven their worth. Isn't it time to end this?"

Elysian continued to remain silent, his eyes fixed on the battlefield. The captain could only sigh in frustration.

"Ossy, we can't continue to fight like this," Bran shouted over the furious cries of the night tooths. "Leave me here. I'll draw their attention while you circle around and attack them from behind."

Osric cursed, ducking a swipe from a night tooth on his right before stabbing upward, his blade finding the soft spot under its head and killing it instantly. "I-I can't leave you behind, big fella. I..."

"I said go," Bran uttered, more forcefully this time, his voice taking on a commanding tone that surprised even himself.

Osric hesitated, taken aback by this new side of his companion. After a moment, he nodded, deciding to trust Bran's judgment. "Okay. Be careful."

Without looking back, Osric darted away, ducking and weaving. His swords trailed on each side, cutting a swath through the beasts, killing some outright and wounding many more.

As soon as Osric was clear, Bran let out a battle cry that echoed across the field, challenging the night tooths. It worked. They saw the massive servant's seemingly exposed back as an irresistible target. Like a raging river, they rushed forward, undeterred by their earlier losses, overcome by the urge to tear their prey apart.

However, they didn't realize that the hunter had become the hunted.

Just as the night tooths closed in, Bran's demeanor changed. The vulnerable facade dropped, replaced by a warrior's focus. His iron staff, which had seemed so cumbersome before, now moved with impossible speed and grace.

The air filled with sickening crunches as Bran's staff connected with the onrushing beasts. Night tooths that had been intent on tearing him apart were reduced to unrecognizable pulp, raining down on the blood-soaked ground. The steel staff became a whirlwind of metal, twirling around Bran like an impenetrable shield.

Everyone watching froze, eyes wide with shock and amazement. The sight of this young man wielding such a massive weapon with such ease and deadly precision was nothing short of spectacular.

Even the relentless night tooths halted their assault momentarily. Their primal instincts, which had driven them forward with bloodlust, now screamed warnings. The gleaming steel rod, catching the moonlight as it danced through the air, had become the harbinger of their doom.

In the sudden lull, Bran stood at the center of a circle of carnage, his staff still spinning, his eyes blazing with determination. The night air crackled with tension as friend and foe alike waited to see what would happen next. Then, without warning, he slammed his weapon into the ground. The earth in front of him exploded in a deafening eruption, sending debris and night tooths flying.

Realizing that Bran was now the greater threat, the night tooths redirected their attention to Osric. The young soldier, momentarily stunned by his companion's display, quickly regained his composure. He moved with fluid grace, masterfully evading every attack thrown at him. Those he couldn't dodge entirely, he deflected just enough to mitigate injury. His style was a mesmerizing blend of noble swordsmanship and savage wilderness, a true reflection of the blood flowing through his veins.

Bran stood like a titan of old, heaving hard as a grin slowly crept across his lips. Noticing the night tooths' eyes were elsewhere, he bellowed, "Where are you, you craven swine." His voice pierced the cold night as he tried to recapture their attention. "Fight, fight, you fucking scum!Fight me!"

Hugo glanced at the young noble beside him, his eyes wide. "I did not know he had it in him."

From his vantage point, Elysian allowed himself a small, proud smile. "Well, Captain," he murmured, "it seems I was right. My friends still had a surprise or two left for us after all."

Hugo nodded, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. "Indeed. But the night is still young, and there are more beasts to face. Let's just hope they can maintain this level of energy throughout the fight."

As if on cue, Bran's goading reignited the night tooths' fury. Their momentary fear melted away, replaced by rage and bloodlust. They flooded towards Bran once more, who welcomed them with open arms, laughing as he pounded one beast after another. This time, he didn't twirl his weapon as before, realizing it would only drive the creatures away. Instead, he showed just enough vulnerability to keep their undivided attention, killing them one at a time while sweeping his staff in wide arcs when they threatened to overwhelm him.

Osric seized this opportunity, unleashing a relentless killing spree from behind. He moved like a wraith through the night tooths' ranks, his blades a blur of deadly precision. With each beast that fell, more blood bathed his form. Under the clear sky and bright moonlight, he became a fearsome sight—a creature of blood and death. His appearance stood in stark contrast to the elegance of his fighting style, creating a paradox of beauty and brutality.

The battlefield had transformed into a macabre dance of death, with Bran and Osric as its principal performers. Their synergy was palpable, each move complementing the other's strategy. Bran's raw power and taunting drew the night tooths in, while Osric's swift and silent assault culled their numbers from behind.

Elysian watched intently, his eyes darting between his two warriors. "They're adapting," he murmured, more to himself than to Hugo. "Learning, growing stronger with each passing moment."

Hugo nodded, a newfound respect evident in his voice. "Aye, boy. They'll undoubtedly grow from this experience. But look at them—they're pushing themselves beyond mortal limits. One mistake could dangerously injure them, or worse, it could cost them their lives."

Indeed, despite their impressive showing, signs of fatigue were beginning to show. Bran's swings, while still powerful, came a fraction slower. Osric's dodges were becoming narrower, his counterattacks a touch less precise.

"You're right, Captain," Elysian finally said. However, his eyes were not on the fight directly in front of them but focused further to the left. There, a pair of large, bluish eyes stared at them hungrily from the darkness.

"It seems they might really need help," Elysian continued, his voice calm but laced with concern.