“Arrh~! I’m definitely going to get a good hit in this time,” A boy with rough-looking brown hair said as he grumbled.

“Who do you want to hit so badly?” Another boy, also with brown hair and facial features that seemed to have never known a frown, asked in a calm voice with an ever-present smile.

“The trainer!” The first boy shouted as he turned to look at the second. “Every day, all that he does is beat us up and tell us to get past him. Doesn’t that make you mad, huh? What about you, miracle boy?” He turned to look in my direction.

What was I supposed to answer to that? Maybe I took too long, but before I could reply, he continued.

“You two are annoying. I’ll just get him myself.” In his frustration, he increased his pace and separated from us.

“Let’s catch up,” The one with the smile said.

Four months had passed since I arrived at the fourth training camp. After the performance for the newcomers of the third training ground at the end of the fourth month, I stayed for another month before we were sorted out again.

One night, a total of 40 children, the top trainees of the third training camp, were moved out in carriages towards the fourth training camp. On the way, the carriages further separated into four contingents and I ended up in the same place as nine others who had performed with me a month earlier.

The smiling boy is Stillivus. He was the one in the lead during the performance of the day I joined the third training camp last year. He is a calm person who always wears a warm smile on his face. The kind of person who approaches everyone and lets everyone approach him, and who seems to be friends with everyone.

However. despite his outgoing personality, he rarely grew close to anyone, and his only companion was Boandros, the loudest person around. This made me wonder if Stillivus deliberately chose to befriend Boandros hoping for his high presence to further mask his loneliness.

When my batch of ten trainees arrived at this fourth training camp, Stillivus extended his welcome to every newcomer but for some reason, he stuck close to me. Perhaps he saw a little of himself in me and thought he could hide me behind Boandros, just like he had hidden himself.

When I first joined those in the parkour course a few months ago, Stillivus and the other performers were no longer there and it made sense now since at the end of the fifth month of every year, the top trainees of the third training ground moved to the fourth training grounds.

So, for the past four months since I arrived in this place, every other day, the different groups of trainees were scheduled to try and get past the instructor by any means they could come up with while the others watched.

The instructor in question was a somewhat burly man, with the characteristic brown hair of the Vittore but he was strong, very strong even. He had a good muscle definition that served as a good intimidation matching his deep voice. He always wore heavy-looking armor with an appearance that only increased the intimidation he gave off.

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There was no fighting style taught or anything of the sort. We had learned acrobatics to have control over our bodies and now, we had to develop the fighting style that suited us as long as our purpose was achieved. With this reasoning, every day the trainees met up at the fighting ground while the instructor stood at a few steps before a line that we had to get past.

The only rule was not to use anything that would count as a weapon but we had to use anyway we could think of to get past him. The catch was he would beat us to the point of incapacitation, and while we had no wounds on our body, we definitely felt a lot of pain at the end of each session.

If you could not recover by the day it was your turn to fight the trainer, which was every other day, someone else who was ready would be put into your group to replace you for the fight and if the whole group was not ready, another group would fight in your stead. In this way, from the morning to mid-day when the sun was the highest, several groups would try to fight the trainer while the others just watched.

The frequency of your group fighting the trainer depended a lot on how quickly you recovered. This also decided which group you belonged to. Friendship was not encouraged but it was not discouraged either. You were either in a group that excelled or kept being dragged down because you wanted to stick together.

My group formed naturally. I was always the kind to push myself to be the best I could and my body recovered fast enough to accommodate this. Then there was Stillivus who was just excellent. He was already considered the best by everyone and before I came along, the standard of what a prodigy was but my rapid rise made me the miracle. He was three years older than me and unlike me, he did not have continuous rapid promotions.

Most likely because he was a returning Vittore while I was my grandfather’s first grandson. Grandfather was the current head of the family and I had preferential treatment since I was already so talented.

A returning Vittore was a child whose parents did not reside in the grand family compound. All the training grounds and houses were part of this compound and your parents had to be out of this place for you to be considered a returning Vittore.

Boandros was around the same age as Stillivus, but unlike Stillivus and me, he had no special talent and had the normal rise of a hard worker.

While he was in the first training ground, through hard work he was transferred after his normal six months of stay. He did the same thing at the second training camp and after the normal eight months of training, he moved on to the third training ground where he met Stillivus.

While Stillivus was held back at the top of the third training ground for the normal three years of duration, he caught up to him and they moved on to the forth training at the same time.

Most trainees in the different sectors of the fourth camp had around the same fitness level and the same recovery in the beginning. However, the continuous beatings of the trainer made others want to try less and thus increased the gaps in performance. But Boandros never let up. For the past year he stayed in the fourth training camp, he was the only one that continuously matched the level showed by Stillivus, and when I came along, with a mix of talent and effort I quickly caught up to them and therefore joined their team in attacking the instructor. In this way our group of three became a stable team in attacking the instructor every two days.

Three was an untold standard for the number of teams. Not that anyone told to form that specific number of teams but the more people there were in a team the more heavy-handed the trainer was in quickly reducing their numbers and hence dealing with them.

If you came alone, well, that was very arrogant and he would take his time beating you thoroughly so that no one else would try that again.

This only happened once and it was a new trainee who attempted this. The seniors knew what was coming when they saw a single child move forward with bravado towards the trainer, their expressions were clear indication of that, but no one stopped him. The trainer seriously thrashed him for a good five minutes and at the end he could not move even a finger. It took him a good week before we saw him come back.

Time passed and soon came the tenth month of the year. Everyone returned home with no one having managed to get past the trainer.