After Nico donned the black camouflage uniform - which was a size too big for him - he left the hut to have a quick look around. His roommates were still getting dressed. Might as well explore the place, he thought.
Skirting past the three cabins, the brown-haired boy found that besides the Weapon Pavillion, a cafeteria and bathrooms (showers included) occupied the rest of the Camp.
A few feet away from the lavatories, a grand hut stood. Its exterior was polished and showed no signs of disrepair. Billows of smoke escaped from the chimney on its roof.
Toward the opposite direction, Nico found a one-storey building with a slanted roof. The windows had large curtains draped over them, obscuring anyone from gaining a glimpse of the interior.
With his curiosity sated, Nico walked back to the hut, where he met up with Henry and Leon. The burly male still had an expressionless look on his face, however, Nico noticed a faint twinkle in his eyes whenever he gazed at the surrounding architecture… especially when they had reached the Weapon Pavillion.
The faint twinkle turned into two sets of sparkling eyes as the fiery-haired man became entranced with the sets of blades and other equipment. Henry, who was whistling a merry tune - one he had learnt on the farm - swivelled his head in every direction.
Curiosity brimmed beneath his humble exterior.
Entering the canvas tent that was the Pavilion, a large interior greeted the trio. On the far side, racks of weapons stood neatly placed in order of size. The weaponry ranged from daggers - on the right side- to large, heavy maces at the far end.
At the centre of the white tent, Instructor William stood with his back straight. He narrowed his eyes in their direction, jerking his head, informing them to come closer. Nico looked around at his fellow peers.
The trainees numbered fifty including him.
He was pleased to find that the Pavillion was large enough to fit them all with extra room as well.
Once all the trainees had arrived in the vicinity, the instructor spoke, "All right, I want you guys to spread out and sit on the ground with your legs crossed." The sound of shuffling feet rang out as the trainees found their own positions on the floor.
Some were hesitant to get their clothes dirty, but after a firm glare from the white-haired male, they agreed.
Nico sat at the back of the large throng, with Henry, and Leon seated beside him.
A menacing grin appeared on William's face. His scar sent a shiver down a few trainees' spines. "Now… does anyone care to tell me what you think your first lesson will be?"
A few hands rose in the air. William took a moment to decide before nodding toward a pot-bellied youth. "Umm… h-how to fight?" The boy stammered. A chorus of snickers rang out.
"Quiet!" the instructor boomed. "Too vague… You over there, give me an answer." The man pointed in Lucas' direction. A goading glint in his eye.
To Nico, this was a challenge to see if the heir of the Stanburg Family could answer a seemingly impossible question.
Lucas quietly fumed. He was in the centre of the throng of trainees. Everyone's attention turned toward him.
Although he had long gotten used to the pressure that came with being a scion of a Noble family, that did not mean it ever got easier.
The boy felt the stares of his fellow peers bore into his soul. He suppressed an instinctive shudder. He had to appear confident.
The young noble mustn't bring shame to the Stanburg Family. His grandfather had rigorously hammered that lesson into him from a young age.
"You will most likely teach us a series of breathing exercises and the importance of inhalation during combat." Several private tutors had already trained the haughty noble to prepare him for the Awakening Ceremony.
The one thing all those lessons had in common, was that mastering the ability to control your breath when fighting, allowed you to exert more force and have greater control over your own body.
"You're correct, Mr Stanburg…" William foresaw the haughty smirk forming on Lucas's face. "But not right now. Today, I will teach you how to access your inner self."
The noble's face fell. He clenched his fist, feeling humiliated. His hands itched to pummel the man for his blatant disregard for his status. Only his reasoning had stopped him from doing so.
Inwardly, Lucas knew the Instructor was on a different level.
The man released an intangible pressure on his surroundings that stifled any other presence out there. A pressure that differed from those who had access to mana.
The aristocrat understood that Instructor William was a seasoned warrior.
He could tell that the scarred male had seen his fair share of battles. Otherwise, how would he be this confident in teaching a group of coreless, mundane humans how to fight?
William continued, unbothered by the angry twitch of Lucas's eyebrows. "What is this inner self you speak of, Sir?" He paused. The trainees' ears perked up in anticipation. "Simply put, what we call the inner self has many names. Your subconscious. The voice in your head. Or even your psyche. By now, from what I've said, you know it is impossible to control your inner self, right? Well, you're wrong."
Nico's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Let me rephrase." The man said, noticing his trainees' confusion. "No one can fully control their inner self… unless you're a transcendent or have great mastery over the soul like the Elves, for example. No, what we can do is subtly guide our inner self to achieve our desired goals. And how do we do that? A hint - Mr Stanburg was on the right track. We guide our inner self through…"
"Meditation…" Nico mumbled the word at the same time as the Instructor.
In his youth, he had tried meditating but gave up a few minutes after seeing no progress. The brown-haired boy found the process tedious. His mind would be abuzz with thoughts refusing to die down.
Every time he attempted to meditate - especially within the last year - certain memories that he had always kept a lid on, would filter through, distracting him and robbing his brain of the clarity and silence that came with inner peace.
A collective groan rang out in the Pavillion. Through his peripheral vision, Nico saw Leon show a troubled look. He witnessed the stocky brute bite his lips nervously, obviously reluctant to meditate. It seemed the trauma brought about by being a half-blood had scarred him deeply.
"Stop groaning. You're only doing that because you don't know how to meditate. Once you get the hang of it, it should be smooth sailing. You might even come to enjoy it by the end…" William gazed deeply at his pupils. Although he had an obvious contempt towards them, especially the nobles, that didn't stop him from trying his best to guide them on how to survive in this accursed world.
He didn't need the death of a few weak fools to weigh down on his already burdened conscience.
"Now, listen closely. This is how you meditate…" The white-haired man sat down. "Take a deep breath. Feel the air travel into your lungs. Then exhale out slowly through your nose." William showed the correct breathing technique. "Continue repeating this action. Once you are acutely aware of your every breath, feel your mind empty and perceive the physical sensations within your body with greater clarity, then you have successfully achieved the meditative state. Your mind may wander, but that's okay. With enough practice, you'll be able to slip into the meditative state and sustain it for a long while. Now, it's your turn to try." William's gaze was sharp. Daring anyone to slack off.
Nico sighed and closed his eyes.
His heart was heavy.
He knew what he had to do.
However, the boy had a sinking feeling he would not like it.