Demia and Niles split us up, Demia coming with me and Niles escorting Callie. When I arrived at my section of the camp, I found Gabe standing at attention in full armor, waiting for us to arrive. "Commander." He said with a serious salute, thought I noticed a slight twitch of his lips that made me sure he was fighting a smirk.

I paused to think about everything I'd heard of military etiquette, and returned his salute with an. "At ease." I glanced at Demia, who nodded encouragingly, and Gabe finally let his grin show. "I can't believe you and Callie hit E-rank already. I'd already used up my elixir allotment, or I'd have asked her Ladyship to help me achieve those heights so I might better protect her."

"Hitting her up for money huh?" I said teasingly, avoiding mentioning Chelsea was my sister only with effort. "You sure Bethy won't get jealous?"

He chuckled. "Of which of us? She and Chelsea have been getting pretty close. I think it's been confusing her. She doesn't seem to know how to act around us anymore. At least not alone. I don't suppose you have any..." He trailed off. "Advice? The situation has been confusing me as well."

"I'm not getting involved in either of their love lives. Chelsea for obvious reasons and Bethy because she terrifies me." I said with a snort. "Figure it out yourself. Now isn't the time for that though. Demia here is going to help me whip my century into shape, and I asked for you specifically to aid us in the task. It seems like it would be frowned on for me to kick them around at E-rank, so I need someone to act as my fist." I glanced at Demia. "Or is that a bad idea?"

She smiled back at me placidly. "Not at all. Most commanders have an intermediary to establish discipline and order. Being forced to personally punish your recruits is considered a sign of weak management." Her tone was gentle and incredibly hard to parse for emotion. Not monotone, exactly, but she sounded the same whenever she spoke, and it made reading her impossible.

I'd been right. Politics. It pervaded every aspect of the Empire, including the more militant parts of the culture. Not to mention as Ascendants we were all somewhat impressionable, and prioritized reputation.

Recursion DID happen in the Empire. While the Job system protected people from individual recursion much better than heroic cultivation, it had its own effect on its users. Jobs themselves caused recursion, pushing their users to fit better into the mold. It was less extreme since a Job didn't define your personality, but the perception of what a thing SHOULD be definitely affected what it WAS. Given the political leanings of most of the imperial heirarchy, it was no shock that even lower ranking Jobs would be swept up in their games, just by virtue of the assumption that they always did.

These had been some of the things included in my political lessons, which had been substantially more complex and nuanced than what I expected.

"Well, either way, he's here now." I said, straightening up. "I think its about time I met my century. I'm curious why they have their own territory though? Shouldn't they be training with Hamill like we were?" The differing command structures was odd. Hamill must be high up in the heirarchy, so why was he teaching random grunts.

She smirked, the least peaceful expression I'd seen on her face so far. "The General likes to take a hand in the first two weeks of conditioning. He says it establishes the proper baseline of fear and resentment in the soldiers, even those not directly under his command. Once those two weeks are up, they get cycled out to normal commanders. There are eighty centuries, surely you didn't think you'd seen them all in your training class?"

That was a good point. I supposed when he mentioned 'training starting' back during our initial meeting, Camden meant this particular training cycle. "Ok. So...before I introduce myself, what am I going to be doing today?"

"That depends on your management style." She said with a shrug. "I've known commanders who invite every soldier to attack at once and crush them under their boots. But that strategy is unlikely to bear much fruit unless you have subordinates at the same rank, for reasons already enumerated. You can go with a softer approach, offer rewards for certain milestones, or even just ignore them like Olena did. I'm here to give you the tools you need to train them, not to train them for you."

I stroked my chin. She wasn't wrong. But I had a few ideas that might work. Ideas that utilized elements from all of those styles.

Marching into the cordoned off area in front of the thirty third barracks (apparently each century had their own after they got through the basic training cycle) I found a group of ninety nine people in the standard armor Camden had given us to use in training. Some of them were grouped up into cliques, some of them lounged by the barracks, and a few of them were just hanging out individually sleeping or reading.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Officer on the field." Snapped Demia, in the harshest voice I'd heard her use. "Attention!" The shout split the air around us and I jumped slightly, staring down at the unusually loud for her size woman. They all got up, lazily assuming loose rows, though most of them didn't seem too motivated. "This." She said gesturing to me. "Is your new commander. Solomon."

I nodded to her, and stepped up next to her as I surveyed the various faces. "My name, as she mentioned, is Solomon. I'll be assuming command of this unit. I hear some of you are problematic. I'm sure you resent my presence here, and if you don't you probably will once you dig into me a bit. I don't actually give a shit." Demia looked surprised by the tone change, though not disapproving.

"I'm supposed to train you." I continued. "To guide you. And to learn by doing so. The skills I'm going to pick up from this are important for my future, and I'm not going to let some whimpering devil may care assholes fuck up my plans. If you have intentions to fuck around, abandon them, if you're expecting this to be easy, don't." I nodded to Gabe. "This is Gabriel. He's a friend, and he's also my second in command. As an E-ranker, it's unseemly for me to discipline you personally, so he's going to do it for me. Which one of you is the strongest here?"

Everyone turned to look at an unassuming girl standing near the back. Her hair was ivory, her eyes a virulent toxic green, and her pale face delicate in a way that reminded me a bit of Callie. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled. "I guess that's me. My name is Alanna Sunwell. It's nice to meet you...sir. I take it you want me to face your friend there in combat? Establish his chops in front of us all to show it how its done?" Her tone was sarcastic and snide.

"Sure, but you can say no." I said with a shrug. "I'm sure someone else would be interested in the five E-rank chits I'm going to pay the winner."

Every eye in the place snapped to me, and I grinned internally. These people had signed up here as mercenaries. They respected money, wanted money, and would demonstrably FIGHT for money. I had officially begun speaking their language.

Alanna stared at me suspiciously. "That's...a lot of money. Are you really going to pay up if your boy loses?"

"I want you guys to fall in line." I said with a shrug. "That only happens if you're incentivized. Not only will I put up five E-rank coins on the outcome, but I'll be setting up a little tournament. Once Gabe proved his mettle, he'll be withdrawn, and I'll let the top ten percent of you fight it out once a month for an E-ranked chit."

An E-ranked chit was ten F-ranked chits and a hundred G-ranked. G-ranked chits were usually base currency. Acting as a single unit in most markets, which made the prize pool a decent chunk of change. Especially with Gabe being counted out.

I had to do that, because as an Adamant with a path he was almost definitely going to crush the competition, and if they decided I was fleecing them it would have the opposite effect.

It was two birds and one stone. I would earn some goodwill and establish my lieutenants superiority, thereby preventing future challenges.

As Alanna accepted and followed Gabe to a training field in the center of our designated area, Demia stepped up next to me. "You sure he's going to win this?" She asked casually. "It's going to bite you on the ass if she puts him down, and Sunwell is a nasty fighter."

I just smiled knowingly. "Gabe can handle it. Just watch." I pointed at the training ring. I was looking forward to this myself.

Alanna strode out into the ring, hands in the air like a returning champion, and several of the other unit members hooted and hollered encouragement. Seemed like she had a rep among my people. Good. That would make this so much more effective.

Gabriel flipped his wrist, and the massive lance he used for his charges appeared in his hand. I saw him adjust his grip as the pressure and his current near mortal state made it a trial to hold it up, but hold it he did.

"Wow, compensating for something?" Taunted Alanna gleefully. "Not that I can complain, I tend to work with a lot of hardware myself." She waved a hand, and a fan of gleaming spears made of ice arrayed itself behind her, shifting in the air to point straight at Gabe.

Demia nodded. "Lancer Job. Ice based main Skill. She uses it to deadly effect. Like I said, she's going to be a tougher opponent than you might think."

Of course, Gabe didn't seem phased. He stomped his foot, a starlight charger manifesting beneath him as the crusader took his stance, preparing to charge. "You may wish to defend." He said politely. "It would be a shame to kill such a promising recruit by mistake."

From anyone else that would be arrogant, or at least mocking, but Gabe wasn't like that. He wasn't arrogant, he was just certain. The charge of an Adamant wasn't something just anyone could withstand.

Alanna sneered, about to respond with some kind of scathing remark, but before she could Gabe began his charge. I'll give her this, she wasn't stupid. She could sense the momentum, the sheer POWER behind his assault, even as his roar of 'RUBRUM GLORIA' split the air and his body was endowed with the power of his Path. Adamant. Unyielding. Nothing could stop him.

The hooves of the charger thundered across the hard packed dirt as his lance flashed toward her, and Alanna panicked. Her hands went up, grasping two more ice spears from the air as the others overlapped in front of her, positioned in front of the incoming holy lance. Gabe hit her makeshift shield like the fist of an angry god, his lance punching through the ice and smashing into her defending spears as she crossed them to tank the attack.

There was an explosion of light and force and Alanna was sent sliding back, desperately trying to stop herself. It wasn't to be though. Her feet left divots in the ground as she was driven backwards until her spine hit the barracks building.

Her eyes were wide with terror as she stared down at the lance, the tip of which was pressed flush against her windpipe, having pushed just past the skin and drawn a trickle of blood. Following the lance up, I could see that Gabe's arm wasn't fully extended. He'd stopped on a dime before spearing her through the throat. He retracted his lance, and she fell to the ground, shuddering. Damned if that man didn't know how to make an impression.