The sun was already beating down by the time Tyler stepped into the training yard, squinting against the glare.

The yard was filled with new recruits, most still shaking off the effects of their initial beatings. Overseers barked orders, their voices echoing off the stone walls. Tyler scanned the yard, noting the different groups. Some were aggressively sparring, trying to prove their strength to the overseers.

"Guess I’d better not strut my stuff just yet," Tyler thought, flashing a wry smile. "Wouldn’t want to make these guys look bad."

A burly overseer with a whip coiled at his belt stepped forward. "Alright, maggots! Time for some physical training. Let’s see what you’re made of." He barked commands, making the recruits run laps, do push-ups, and lift heavy stones. Tyler moved through the exercises with ease, his body fuelled by an unexpected well of strength and endurance he had never had before. Tyler was pretty fit but this went way beyond his normal capabilities.

After the gruelling physical session for everyone else, the overseer lined them up. "Now, pair up! We’re going to see if any of you are worth a damn with a sword."

Tyler paired up with a lanky recruit who looked more scared than ready. They were given wooden practice swords, and Tyler took a deep breath, centring himself.

The signal was given, and Tyler's opponent lunged forward awkwardly, his movements telegraphing his intentions. Tyler's eyes narrowed, and he entered a state of calm focus, as everything happened slowly, just like when he fought the nobles’ guards.

Tyler sidestepped with fluid grace, his movements precise and controlled. He executed a perfect thrusting strike with the tip of his sword aimed at the recruit’s midsection. The wooden practice sword connected solidly, knocking the wind out of his opponent and causing him to double over in pain.

Seizing the moment, Tyler shifted his stance, bringing his right leg up and delivering a swift front kick, to the recruit’s chest. The recruit stumbled backwards, his legs buckling under the unexpected attack. Tyler followed through with a quick but controlled horizontal slash aimed at the recruit’s side, stopping just short of making contact to demonstrate his control.

His opponent, now off-balance and disoriented, tried to regain his footing, but Tyler was relentless. He stepped forward, executing a strike to the wrist, which caused the recruit to drop his sword. The wooden weapon clattered to the ground, and the recruit fell to his knees, clutching his midsection. “Ease of man!” the other man said gasping for breath.

Tyler paused, his sword held in a relaxed but ready position. "Sorry buddy, I guess I got a little carried away.” he said as he extended a hand to help him up. "it's not just about strength. You need to be precise and controlled. Use your whole body, not just your arms." Tyler started giving the other man some pointers. "Keep your centre of gravity low and move with your entire body. Don't just swing wildly."

He spotted Marcus and Elric nearby, both looking a bit out of their depth. Marcus, the former farmer, held a sword awkwardly, while Elric seemed more interested in avoiding the blade than wielding it. Tyler wandered over to them, feeling the weight of eyes on him as he moved. He could tell that people were already noticing something different about him.

"Alright, lads," he said, clapping Marcus on the shoulder. "First rule of Fight Club: don’t talk about Fight Club. Second rule: don’t get yourself killed."

Marcus gave him a puzzled look. "What’s a Fight Club?"

"Never mind, just swing that sword like you’re cutting wheat. Smooth and steady."

As Marcus began practising, Tyler turned to Elric. "Elric, you look like you’re trying to dodge a tax collector. Loosen up a bit. It’s all about balance and timing."

Nearby, two more recruits caught Tyler’s eye. A tall, wiry young man with an intense look in his eyes, and a stocky woman with short, cropped hair who seemed to be sizing everyone up. Tyler wandered over to them.

"Hey there, I’m Tyler," he said with a grin. "What do you guys bring to the table?"

The young man nodded, his expression serious. Despite the grime and exhaustion, he had a sturdy build, though his clothes were tattered, and his face was marked with dirt and fatigue. "Name’s Darius. Used to be a blacksmith’s apprentice. Got some skill with a hammer, figured it can’t be that different from a sword."

The woman crossed her arms, giving Tyler a once-over. Her hair was matted, and her eyes were sunken from lack of sleep, matching the rough appearance of everyone in the slave camp. "I’m Livia. Used to be a hunter. Good with a bow, decent with a blade."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Great, welcome to the party," Tyler said. "We’ll be the coolest kids in this gladiator school." He demonstrated a few basic moves, showing Darius and Livia how to handle their swords more effectively. They picked up quickly, and he could see the glint of determination in their eyes, despite their worn and ragged appearance.

"Remember, it’s not just about brute strength," Tyler advised. "It’s about technique, endurance, and keeping your wits about you."

As the training session went on, Tyler made his rounds, helping Marcus, Elric, Darius, and Livia refine their techniques. His own movements were fluid, almost instinctual. Where others relied on raw power, Tyler used precision and strategy, impressing both his fellow prisoners and the overseers watching from the sidelines.

The other prisoners in the yard began to take notice. Whispers spread about the new recruit who moved like a seasoned fighter and seemed to have a plan. Tyler could feel the eyes on him, sensing that people were starting to see him as a leader. He knew it was dangerous, but he also knew it was the only way to survive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the yard, Tyler and his new friends huddled together, discussing tactics and sharing what little comfort they could find in each other's company.

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by a loud, mocking voice. "Look at the little brat, acting like he knows everything!"

Tyler looked up to see a hulking man with a shaved head and a jagged scar running down his cheek. The man stood with his arms crossed, flanked by a few other tough-looking prisoners. He was clearly trying to assert his dominance.

"Great," Tyler muttered under his breath. "Every playground has a bully."

"Something you want to say, big guy?" Tyler called out, keeping his tone light but his body ready.

The man sneered. "Name’s Gorrik. And I don’t like seeing fresh meat prancing around like they own the place."

Tyler stood up, spreading his arms in a mock welcoming gesture. "Well, Gorrik, Maybe you’d like to join us? We’re discussing the finer points of not getting your ass kicked."

Gorrik’s face darkened with anger. He stomped over, his large frame casting a shadow over Tyler and the others. "You think you’re funny, kid? How about I teach you a lesson in respect?"

Tyler glanced around, noticing the overseers watching with interest but not intervening.

He took a deep breath. "Alright, Gorrik. Let’s see what you’ve got."

Gorrik lunged, swinging a heavy fist at Tyler’s head. Tyler dodged smoothly, his movements almost dance-like. He slipped into a crouch and smashed his fist into Gorrik’s ribs. The big man grunted in surprise at how much power Tylers punch was able to generate.

Gorrik swung again, but Tyler anticipated the move and redirected the energy, avoiding the strike entirely. Tyler followed up with a swift kick, connecting solidly with Gorrik’s knee, causing him to stumble.

Anger flashed in Gorrik’s eyes as he charged, trying to use his size and strength to overwhelm Tyler. But Tyler remained calm, using a combination of strikes to disrupt Gorrik’s balance and create openings. He finished with a classic uppercut to Gorrik’s chin, sending him crashing to the ground.

Tyler stepped back, not even breathing heavily, completely unscathed. He looked down at Gorrik, who glared up at him with a mix of anger and respect.

"Lesson over," Tyler said, offering a hand to help Gorrik up.

Gorrik hesitated, then took Tyler’s hand, pulling himself to his feet. "You’ve got guts, kid. I’ll give you that." He spat on the ground, then walked away, his gang following.

The yard was silent for a moment, then the whispers started again. Tyler’s friends gathered around him, their expressions a mix of relief and admiration.

"That was incredible," Marcus said, clapping Tyler on the back.

"You handled that well," Livia added, a rare smile on her face.

Tyler shrugged, trying to downplay the moment. "Just another day in the office."

The overseer called for them to line up again. "You’ve done well for a bunch of useless slaves. Now, time to clean up. You stink worse than a pile of dung."

They were herded toward a large trough filled with water. The recruits took turns splashing themselves down, the cold water a welcome relief from the heat and grime of the yard. Tyler scrubbed himself as clean as he could manage.

The overseer dismissed them, giving them some free time in the yard before nightfall. Tyler found a quiet spot under a tree, and Elric soon joined him, carrying a small, flat rock and an old nail.

"Thought you might want to practice those runes," Elric said, handing the items to Tyler.

Tyler nodded, his curiosity piqued. He began scratching the runes into the rock while Elric gave him pointers. Tyler quickly dismissed Elric’s suggestions to add artistry and flourished as he explain what he found in the invisible book. He picked a simple illusion rune, making sure to follow the instructions from his book. As he worked, he felt a strange connection to the symbols, as if they were calling to him.

Elric only needed to correct Tyler's technique a few times. By the fourth stone, Tyler had the hang of it. "You’ve got a natural talent for this. Keep going."

Tyler finished inscribing the runes and held the rock in his hand, focusing his thoughts. Without realizing it, energy surged from his hand and leapt into the symbols. The runes glowed faintly for a second.

He stared at the rock in amazement. "Elric, it’s working. I don’t have a mana core, but it’s working!" Tyler said in a whisper-shout as he inconspicuously tried to show Elric the stone, only to realize it was now invisible.

He slowly placed the stone over Elric’s hand, allowing him to sense its weight despite appearing empty. As he released it, the stone materialized, breaking his connection to it. Elric’s eyes widened in shock. "That’s impossible. No one can activate runes without a core."

But Tyler’s mind was already racing with possibilities. He had tapped into something powerful, something that could change everything. The realization hit him hard: This was a game-changer.