[5:55 A.M., Calming Serenity Dojo]
Dekadel was kneeling successively, receiving the blessings of many instructors employed by Elder Sigfrey. He had strength and a good sense of combat but was very rigid. He provided a demonstration earlier, and although he won, he struggled. The opponent's moves were simple, yet it was as difficult as catching a fish swimming upstream.
He had never bent, twisted, or turned more in his entire life. When the soreness inevitably kicked in, he persisted for a little longer before recalling Joe's death. He was processing his responsibilities as a leader, a friend, and a mentor. He was processing how he failed his duties. He confessed how he had never lost a man before. They decided against reminding him that it wasn't his fault and gave him a few days off instead.
He didn't remember the last he had taken off his battle-suit. He lived in it, preached it, and trained in it. When he did take it off, it was to shower. The battle-suit had a limited hygienic system, enough for him. He was quite muscular. Years of special training did that. Special training for covert operations that was. Not the WMR rank but the special units the military groomed.
They were called Hell Forged Soldiers. The Military Zones were the front line against a nation's enemies. Its battle force was primarily hardened degenerates, academic failures with poor physical abilities. They all had a chance at a normal life and didn't accomplish much.
Hell Forged Soldiers could be considered 'warrior' assassins with guns. After the degenerates were sacrificed to provide critical information, they stepped in. They relied not on cutting-edge but bleeding-edge technology to keep up with Warriors, Magicians, and Rogues. Modified battle-suits that pushed them to the extreme. A well-coordinated plan could take down at least one WMR, even a few.
They had no hope of winning the battle if they could not avoid a prolonged fight. Their sole responsibility was to delay until the WMRs came to actually change the tides of war.
There were some excellent Hell Forged Soldiers that held their own. They could almost fool you into believing they were WMRs. The best of the best, known as the Infernal Legion. Without exception, all of them were huge but not bulky, a beast of a tank with massive physical strength. They always carried gigantic machine guns. They were also agile, flexible, and nimble. This was his goal.
It was a body shape he had trained for years. He had made good progress. The training gave him the freedom to cut down some of the bulk. He wanted to stand out as a Hell Forged Soldier, stand out even more after he joined the Infernal Legion.
He knew that no one would forgive him in this place. There were no confessionals. There were no priests. This wasn't a church. It was a place to hone the mind. The lesson he was trying to learn was that not everything was his fault. It was hard to let go of when you experienced it personally. A series of unfortunate events can sometimes lead to an unforeseeable outcome. Did he want it to happen again? That crucial point allowed him to hang on, improve himself, and put hope back in his eyes.
No one could help him do that besides himself. That was just the way he was taught. He had no problem with it. Didn't think badly that they left him alone. Most likely, they thought about it from his point of view and understood.
What they DID help with, which he had no issues with, was making sure he did not skip his stretches. This was on TOP of his regular reps. It hurt at first, but he got used to it. He would kneel after every warm-up session to thank them for their patience and guidance. He would kneel a hundred times out of a sense of duty. As he got up, he stared in the general area where he learned Cadet Sikhail Godfiend was. When he was ready, he wanted to request that they resume the assessment. He had a burning desire to see whether the gap existed or was now closed.
"6:00 A.M.," Dekadel stated, getting up and bowing to the instructors.
"Good, very good!"
"This is a benefit of reconnecting with the earth."
Dekadel started his morning run. Left. Right. Left. Right. Breathe in. Breathe out. One mile, two, three, five, ten. Inhale, Exhale. Wipe the sweat. Drink the water. Meditative stance. Reflect on your gains. Concentrate on the finish line. Stand up. Shadowbox. Hooks, uppercuts, bobbing, weaving, ducking. Can't get hurt if you don't get hit. Can't hurt if you don't land a punch. Hit with a lead. Don't focus on where they are. Think. Where will they be? A punch in the kidney. Stumble. Retreat. Turn around. Arm is dragged over the air. Stabilize the center of gravity. It shifts. Thrown onto the ground. Get up. Analyze the situation.
A young man and a young man are bowing.
"Our apologies, fellow friend. We were instructed to randomly sneak that in every day until you counter it."
The other person maintained the bow, but clearly, their silence indicated the same thing.
"No worries. I'll figure it out," Dekadel returned the bow.
Dekadel watched as the two headed off. They turned once more and bowed before they disappeared from sight. Good time to start practicing stances. Stances before techniques. Techniques rely on stances to perform them properly. Without stances, a technique cannot be executed to its full potential. A technique does not rely on a stance, but mentally, techniques aren't possible without a stance. A stance is a transition into a technique. He repeated these ideas over and over again as he practiced.
Horse stance, cat stance, rhino stance, gorilla stance, sun stance, wind stance, defense stance, night stance, and dozens more. He just didn't get it. Stretching his arm till it reached the sky and holding it? Why not just call it advanced stretching? He still did them because there was a quota to fill. He trusted Major Hsuzel, who trusted the dojo's owner, who trusted his instructors. Therefore he trusted the instructions.
"12:00 P.M.," Dekadel said to no one.
He inhaled, exhaled, got up, and looked for food. Just as he was about to enter the dining hall.
"Fellow disciple Dekadel. Do you have time for a question?"
He turned and nodded.
"I heard that, similar to fellow disciple Sikhail, you also come from the military. However, it's difficult to find him. I am curious if you'd agree to a quick, friendly duel? I want to see if I'm as fast as your gun!"
"I don't see a problem with that," Dekadel nodded after pondering the request.
"Thank you. Such sudden requests can be considered… rude and unfriendly sometimes. I thank you for your kindness. Please, this way."
——|——|—|—|——|——
Dekadel sized the disciple up. It was a middle-aged man, early 30's, perhaps? He had a rather solid build. Good muscles, wide shoulders, and a… square-like face, but still circular. His palms were placed together, a common position in the dojo. His feet were slightly apart. His gaze was solid, determined. He bowed before putting his palms forward. His eyes were closed.
"Fellow friend Dekadel. I'm ready. Begin whenever you'd like."
Dekadel pulled out his beretta, a machine pistol. Small presence. Single shot, but it could also burst. It was versatile, something he needed to be. He always kept plenty of magazines on him, just in case. He readied his gun, pointing it at the man.
"Do you want to try a single shot or go straight for burst fire?" Dekadel asked.
"Let's test it with the single shot first. If I feel good, we can try some burst fire."
"Alright," Dekadel nodded.
*Click*
The man immediately opened his eyes after the click, reaching out with a hand while closing his grip.
"Amazing. Fellow friend Dekadel, burst fire is unnecessary."
"No problem," Dekadel nodded. "Did you catch the bullet?"
"I thought that by taking out the momentum, well, never mind, it seems that theory didn't work out."
Dekadel noticed the bullet-sized hole on the edge of the man's palm. Clearly, he wasn't confident about taking on the whole bullet. He traced the angle, finding the bullet lodged in the man's shoulder with a bit of flesh.
"Do you need me to fix you up good and new?" Dekadel asked.
"No need fellow friend Dekadel. We have a medical center here."
"Alright," Dekadel nodded.
"Thank you again for my request. I'll be sure to put in more training."
"Sounds good," Dekadel agreed.
Far off in the distance, several instructors had been watching the show, discussing among themselves.
"Not bad. That incident scarred him. Looks like he finally got the courage to move past it. His future path will be smoother."
"Indeed. It's just been a few days so far, but his progress isn't half bad."
"Fool. I was talking about that big fellow."
"Oh. I knew that"
"Hmmph."
"I guess he really wants to save his wife?"
"Didn't you dissuade him?"
"His wife is a bit more attractive than I expected for someone like him. It's hopeless."
"Jesus. What a fool."
"Say that if you've never risked your life for a beautiful woman before."
"Ridiculous. My sister is beautiful, but that's a completely different context."
"Still a beautiful woman."
"So you'd just abandon your siblings?"
(Silence)
"Don't spout such ridiculous nonsense without any context."
"Wait, have you always been that stupid? A wife is the same thing as a sister. Your family."
"I think you are all focusing on unimportant stuff. I'm simply saying don't risk your life for a beautiful woman."
"You were the one leaving the context out."
"Alright, enough. I'm tired of this. I was just giving friendly advice."
(Silence)
"Say, what do you think about that senior's thoughts?"
"Hsuzel?"
"Precisely"
"I think Dekamation is an interesting code name. His name fits quite nicely with Decimation."
"Raw explosive power and quick response. Those stances fit that quite nicely."
"I feel almost bad because of how confused he looks. However, he's military, so it's better to just let him figure it out alone. He'll really appreciate it when we arrange the sparring sessions."
"Aren't all Privates clueless on their first day? They only figure it out later on. Totally fine."
"It's so strange not to be involved, though. The Supernatural Path is deadly without proper guidance."
"It's better not to interfere if another system is already in place."
"Is it possible to catch up to Sikhail?"
"That monster? Impossible. I get chills just looking at him."
"Has anyone actually sparred with him yet?"
"The Elder said not to interfere."
"Should we ask?"
"Won't the Elder and his granddaughter do that?"
"Alright, just continue to keep an eye on Dekadel. Intervene if it's truly necessary."