The conclusion of the meal signaled the next phase of their journey.
Sabastian commanding their attention, announced the formation of teams. "You will form 80 teams, each consisting of 25 individuals," he declared.
The process of team selection was both sudden and somewhat chaotic for Marcellus, who found himself in a group almost by 'happenstance'.
Sabastian continued, "In each cohort of 25 candidates, there shall be two teams and a centurion. The centurion shall be awarded the title 'Centurion Primus Gladius.' We shall be deciding on this position soon. However, pick your teams now!"
Marcellus looked around and found himself standing in the midst of a group already formed.
How did that happen again!? he cursed his luck.
He had been meticulously observing the man, desperate to discern the methods, but his efforts proved futile.
So Marcellus quickly gave up on such curiosities.
As he glanced at his group, Marcellus let out a weary sigh.
Among the twenty-five individuals gathered, there were thirteen males and twelve females, each with their unique qualities.
Together, they formed a diverse group, each individual carrying their own stories and experiences.
Marcellus couldn't help but wonder how their unique skills and backgrounds would contribute to their collective journey ahead.
Sabastian's gaze swept across the faces within the division, his eyes undiscernible.
With an enigmatic smile gracing his lips, Sabastian spoke with a commanding yet gentle tone, "Brave warriors, every one of you is here for a singular reason, your noble spirit and courageous nature."
"I have personally arranged for each team to receive a tent, providing you with shelter for the night. Consider this a second gift from me, a token of my appreciation for your commitment. A true warrior must ...."
Sabastian continued, "During your run today, I observed each one of you closely, evaluating your skills and determination. Now, as a gesture of my respect for your efforts, I will allow five of you to ask me one question. Choose wisely, for this is a rare opportunity."
A brief pause filled the air with anticipation.
Marcellus initially thought he was being mocked by the mention of "heroes." However, as he studied Sabastion, he realized there was no hint of ridicule in their expression. Sabastian's words resonated true, surpassing even the contempt Marcellus held for such heroes.
Sabastian called out names, allowing candidates to ask questions.
Rivan asked, "What do we need to know?"
Sabastian smiled and replied, "There are many things you need to know, but I will tell you one thing you should know before you wake up tomorrow: there are three types of fatigue that warriors must understand—transient, cumulative, and circadian."
He proceeded to explain each type, emphasizing their significance in a warrior's life.
As Sabastian continued calling names, Marcellus noticed none of the answers were straightforward, and frustration grew within him. When his turn came, he asked about "ether core," a question that had been lingering in his mind.
Sabastian began to explain, describing ether as a form of energy and the vital essence of life. Ether cores represented the material manifestation of this energy.
Their eye contact was brief but intense, and just as Sabastian seemed about to reveal something crucial, he vanished into thin air, leaving Marcellus astonished.
Marcellus entered his tent, where he met his fellow comrades from the current maniple, five of whom stood out:
Marcus exuded quiet strength with a composed demeanor, broad shoulders, and a trimmed beard.
Sofia, elegant and intelligent, had piercing blue eyes and long flowing hair.
Leon, a powerhouse with a shaved head, displayed commanding presence and a chiseled physique.
Elena, with fiery red hair and a mischievous demeanor, radiated vibrant energy.
Ayden, appearing unassuming but observant, possessed a strategic mind and depth of knowledge beyond their youthful appearance.
***
The next day, Marcellus rose from his comfortable tent provided by Sabastian. Inside, the beds were neatly lined up to accommodate everyone in the camp.
The cozy interior and peaceful ambiance had left him feeling refreshed and revitalized.
As he emerged from the tent, Marcellus couldn't help but notice that nothing had changed regarding his medium's limitations.
However, he accepted this reality with unexpected calmness, feeling a newfound inner peace that seemed connected to his unique qualities.
On the expansive drill ground, surrounded by fellow candidates, Marcellus watched as two suns rose on the horizon.
Their warm, radiant light painted the sky with shades of orange and gold, filling him with awe and anticipation.
Suddenly, as if materializing out of thin air, Sabastian appeared before them, his presence commanding and authoritative.
With a single word that reverberated through the air, he issued a resolute command.
"Start running!"
There was no room for questions or explanations.
The training session began with a deceptively slow pace, almost lulling Marcel into a false sense of ease.
The initial strides were measured, allowing the participants to find their rhythm and warm up their muscles.
Marcel felt a glimmer of confidence, thinking that he could handle the challenge ahead.
However, as the moments ticked by, the pace steadily intensified. What had started as a casual jog transformed into a demanding sprint that left Marcel struggling to keep up?
The gradual acceleration of the pace caught him off guard, and his body strained to match the newfound speed. His heart raced in his chest, pounding with an intensity that mirrored the rapid tempo of his footfalls.
With each passing second, the gap between his capabilities and the pace set by Sabastian widened.
Marcellus's legs pumped furiously, desperately attempting to maintain the demanding rhythm. The once comfortable stride had become a frenzied blur, pushing him to the edge of his physical limits.
His breaths came in short gasps, the air burning his lungs as he fought to sustain the exhausting tempo.
Minutes that seemed to stretch into eternity, he pushed himself, pouring every ounce of strength into each stride.
The mental battle waged fiercely within Marcel's mind.
The battle to keep up became not only a physical feat but also a mental one, as he fought against the urge to give in to fatigue and self-doubt.
Doubt and exhaustion clawed at his thoughts, threatening to erode his resolve. With every step, he grappled with the voice that whispered of surrender and the temptation to succumb to the overwhelming fatigue.
Yet, buried deep within him, a flicker of determination burned bright, refusing to yield.
How am I so weak he cursed.
As the relentless exertion persisted, the line between determination and weariness blurred.
Marcel's vision began to falter, his surroundings fading into a haze as his body strained to keep up. And then, in an instant, his strength waned, his body surrendering to the overwhelming demands placed upon it.
Consciousness slipped away from him, and he crumpled to the ground, unaware of the passage of time or the continuation of the grueling run.
In that fleeting moment of collapse, everything dissolved into darkness.
Marcel sprung to his feet as soon as he came to, ready to keep running.
Alas, the run was over.
Engaging in conversation with Ayden, Marcel gleaned further insights.
Sabastian had instructed their maniple to assemble in a square formation, with their leader positioned at the forefront.
This formation, when viewed from above, would appear as a grand square composed of 80 smaller squares, an impressive sight indeed.
In their discussion, Ayden shared additional details.
Wings Valor would provide them with temporary weapons for their upcoming endeavours.
Moreover, the Primus of their maniple was entrusted to Leon, at this time he was the strongest.
Lastly, Sabastian himself would address the group once they had selected their swords.
He quickly incorporated this information into his medium. he also decided to add a timer so he could keep track of time, It was only natural.
Looking at the package sent from Wings of Valor.
[Please select Unranked Mundane Sword]
As Marcel gazed upon the myriad of lethal swords, he noticed a diverse array of weapons, each uniquely sheathed and possessing a deceptively simple appearance.
Marcel panicked he did not know which one to choose.
Marcel carefully selected a ninja blade (ninjatō to be technic), a straight single-edged blade measuring approximately 2 feet in length.
This specialized weapon was meticulously crafted for swift and silent strikes, allowing its wielder to execute rapid and precise movements in close-quarters combat.
The blade was intentionally narrower and thinner than a katana, providing enhanced lightness and agility.
The handle featured a distinct rectangular guard (tsuba to be technic), ensuring a secure grip for Marcelus.
In some instances, the handle could be utilized for blocking. The ninjatō was enclosed in a dark sheath that seemed to absorb light, further adding to its mystique and concealment abilities.
Focusing on the blade.
[Mundane Nox: Nox is a side project crafted by a blacksmith. Carved from a humble abyssal rock, it possesses an inherent affinity for darkness. Although it bears a negligible curse, it lacks any enchantments of inscription.]
What! a cursed blade. my luck is terrible...
He checked his medium for the curse.
[Shadow's Embrace: As you wield this blade, the brilliance of light shall elude your path—its radiance veiled by the encompassing darkness. Within the shroud of blindness, your entire being shall be perpetually entwined with obscurity, you shall find boundless courage that unveils warmth yet untold]
Marcelus almost lost his sanity at this moment.
Marcelus found himself in possession of a cursed blade that further compromised his already tenuous vision.
Strangely he did not change it!
The irony of the situation was not lost on him, and he couldn't help but find it somewhat laughable.
Sabastian lightly tapped the ground with his feet, and Marcelus's surroundings instantly transformed before his eyes.
As he surveyed his surroundings, Marcelus realized that he had become separated from his division.
He found himself with his maniple.
Outside the tent, a rich tapestry of luscious vegetation and expansive green lands stretched as far as the eye could see.
As Marcel absorbed the new environment, he suddenly heard Sebastian's voice resonate in his mind, as if transmitted directly to his thoughts.
"We will start with the basics."
"In this realm, both humans and monsters embark on a journey of body, mind, and spiritual development, harnessing energies some call ether, qi, or Mana."
"These energies pave the way towards strength. In due course, if fortune smiles upon you and you leave this realm, you may acquire a boon and become a sword saint."
"Furthermore, you should wield the weapons provided, regardless of their perceived usefulness. Ultimately, the judgment of its value shall rest solely upon your discernment"
"Whether or not you transcend your mundane order is up to you and you alone. no one else can train for you."
Marcellus received a notification!
[You have now acquired Harmonic Nexus Path: the knowledge of the Basic Life Force Gathering Technique has been bestowed upon you. Your journey towards enlightenment has only just begun!]
[You have been bestowed a memory! downwardslash]
"I have just given you all the means to cultivate the various energies of the world, you are to run 4 hours each day at sunrise and before sunset, you should perform 1000 downward slashes with your swords."
[Harmonic Nexus Path: Absorbs life force with every breath. Strength Mastery, Flesh Refinement, Viscera sculpting, Muscle Ascendance, Bone Forging and Pulse harmonization Can only be activated when Nexus Flow breathing technique.]
Finally, I can use this to increase my odds!
Marcelus did not question anything it all seemed normal to him, even though he did not understand much.
Now, amid the enigmatic tapestry that surrounded him, Marcelus felt the tendrils of opportunity brush against his aspirations.
While he was apprenticed to the priestess he had always dreamt of such fortune, a knight passing their village would suddenly grace him with such opportunity.
Alas, the priestess was of a different opinion, although she was a knight, she refused to teach Marcellus breathing techniques, claiming she became a knight through training and hard work, and that she hated knights who used the breathing techniques of others.
One of the many things they disagreed on.
As Marcellus pondered a sudden realization struck him.
He tried to recall the name of his village, the place he considered home, but found himself grappling with a murky memory, he only remembered it to be the size of a hamlet.
My village? Ah, right... my village. What was its name again? A blank canvas where a memory should be, sending a tendril of unease down his spine.
This lapse in memory, the gaping hole where his village's name once resided, gnawed at him for a fleeting moment.
Then, strangely, it subsided, buried beneath a disquieting numbness. As if his mind, overwhelmed by the surreal world surrounding him, had chosen to quarantine the painful void.
Fragments of his past, whispers of familiar faces and laughter, slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. Lost in this alien reality, he felt adrift, unmoored from the very life he barely remembered.
Marcellus started plotting in his head.
At that moment, he envisioned a way to transcend his current limitations, to grow beyond his boundaries, and ultimately, to become... stronger!
*********
******
***
Marcellus tore out a piece of cloth from his shirt.
With resolute determination, he fashioned it into a blindfold and proceeded to tie it securely around his eyes.
His plan was to acclimate himself to performing tasks, even combat, while deprived of sight, he tightly secured the blindfold around his eyes.
As he walked in, he gracefully assumed a lotus position, ready to immerse himself in Harmonious nexus path.