The training ground, nestled among dense trees, was scattered with wooden dummies and archery targets. The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying the earthy scent of damp soil. The wooden dummies, scarred and battered, bore the marks of countless blows, while the archery targets held several arrows deeply embedded in their centers.
Soldiers worked across the area with intense focus. One group practiced sword swings against the dummies, while another aimed their arrows, striving to hit their targets precisely. The sound of labored breathing mingled with the clash of swords, occasionally interrupted by brief commands.
As one soldier struck his sword against the dummy, he turned to his comrade, gasping for breath. "If I keep training like this, maybe I'll reach Aery's level one day!" he said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
The other soldier gave him a mocking glance as he carefully placed an arrow on his bow. "Reach his level? Aery moves like a shadow. We can't even come close to his speed," he replied, and when he released the arrow, it struck the wooden target dead center with a solid thud.
Nearby, another soldier continued striking a target repeatedly with silent determination. "My goal is to stand out in this battle," he muttered to himself. "If I can catch Aery's attention, maybe I'll have what it takes to truly fight."
The air was filled with the sounds of soldiers' heavy breathing and the echo of clashing steel. A slight breeze broke the forest's silence, carrying the scent of hard-earned sweat and soil as the sky began to darken.
Despite the late hour, the training ground buzzed with intense energy. Dummies, archery targets, and other equipment surrounded the soldiers as they pushed their bodies and minds to the limit. The sharp smell of earth mixed with the scent of sweat, and the wind rustled the branches of trees encircling the area. Every heavy breath, each hard step hitting the ground, underscored the weight of their discipline.
Among them, one group stood out. A young soldier who had made a mistake was kneeling, his head bowed in shame. Silently, he fell face-down to the ground, preparing for the punishment. Beside him, his comrades had also resigned themselves to the same fate. They exchanged brief glances before beginning, their punishment different from the rest: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a grueling 10 laps around the training ground.
For an ordinary mistake, it was an unforgiving penalty. But here, there was no tolerance for error.
As the young soldier gritted his teeth and began his push-ups, his friend beside him muttered, "If you mess up again, we'll be carrying you on our backs. Got it?"
"Damn heavy punishments…" another grumbled, wiping the sweat dripping from his forehead. "This is going to finish us all."
The cold wind whipping around the training ground struck the soldiers' skin like a lash. As they began their laps, their knees trembled, and sharp stones beneath the hard-packed sand dug into their feet. Completing his first lap, the young soldier struggled to steady his breathing, muttering in regret, "I'll never make a mistake again."
One of his friends smirked, "Let's hope you don't, because if you do, the commander might just leave us all for dead next time," he said, his tone bitter, with a trace of real fear.
As they continued their laps, the other soldiers watched in silence, realizing just how powerful a lesson this harsh discipline could be. Some looked on with pity, while others observed with quiet patience, taking in the lesson for themselves.
When the grueling punishment finally ended, the young soldier and his friends collapsed to the ground, struggling to catch their breath. Their faces, drenched in sweat, bore the unmistakable marks of exhaustion. The ache of atonement had sunk into their muscles, but the punishment was over. By now, everyone had learned their lesson.
Just then, in another group, a soldier lost focus during sword training. His foot unexpectedly slipped on the sandy ground, and he fell, losing control of his sword, which clattered loudly as it hit the ground. The sound echoed through the field, drawing the gaze of the surrounding soldiers. Even such a small mistake was unacceptable here.
Aery's stern voice cut through the air, "Take your punishment!"
The soldier rose from where he'd fallen, shame flickering across his face as he bowed his head. He knew his mistake, and just like the others, he would face the consequences. With a deep breath, he silently lowered himself into a push-up position. His comrades stepped forward to join him, dropping down beside him in solidarity, sharing the punishment as one. Together, they braced for 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a grueling 10 laps around the training field. The same grueling ritual was beginning once again.
From beside him came a quiet murmur of frustration, "These mistakes will be the end of us…"
Another, breathing heavily, added, "Better watch your footing next time, or we'll be out here until morning."
Clenching his teeth, the soldier who had stumbled began his push-ups, each one adding weight to his aching body. Yet, as he glanced at his comrades, seeing them endure the punishment alongside him, he felt a mixture of guilt and camaraderie. Each painful repetition became a testament to their bond, and with every step they took, their resolve only grew stronger.
The punishments in the training field seemed endless. As the night wore on, exhaustion and the biting cold weighed heavily on the soldiers, pressing down like an unrelenting force. Training, which continued with relentless falls and recoveries until dawn, tested both their physical and mental limits. Each mistake brought a new punishment, sweat turning into pain.
Whenever a soldier stumbled, the others were immediately by his side, taking on the same punishment together. Each fall became a test of resilience and unity. Now and then, weary voices muttered, "Again?" but no one quit.
The quiet of the night was filled with the sounds of labored breathing and hushed words of encouragement shared between them during their grueling drills. "Keep going... just hold on a little longer, morning is coming…"
At times, one group would start the lap around the training grounds, while another would drop to the ground for push-ups or sit-ups. The sandy ground was littered with bodies that fell and rose again, but each misstep made them a little harder, a little more resilient.
As dawn's first light crept over the horizon, the soldiers lay sprawled, exhausted, yet stronger and more tightly bonded than before after enduring a night of punishing drills.
Aery stepped out of the tent, cold night wind at his back, his gaze sweeping over the training ground. The soldiers, breathing heavily, waited for their turn to rest their weary bodies, exhaustion and pain etched on each of their faces. Aery's deep, authoritative voice filled the air:
"It's time to sleep."
A wave of relief washed over the soldiers for a moment. Muted murmurs of satisfaction drifted among them as they looked to one another with a sense of quiet gratitude. Some crouched down, others leaned back, worn bodies finally easing up, believing it was time to rest. A few even took deep, relieved breaths.
But Aery's next words quickly cast a shadow over their brief joy:
"You have only one hour to sleep."
That statement hit like a heavy weight dropping over them. The relief on their faces quickly turned to dismay. A few soldiers sighed deeply, while others shook their heads in frustration. Quiet whispers broke out among them.
"One hour? That's barely anything…"
"Wish it could've been a bit longer…"
Yet none of them dared to complain aloud. Seeing the resolve in Aery's eyes, the soldiers knew they had to accept whatever came their way. No matter how grueling the training, they had to adapt. Discipline was the highest priority here.
Under Aery's stern gaze, each soldier took slow, heavy steps toward the tents for a brief rest, fully aware that even an hour of sleep was a rare luxury. Before the first light of dawn touched the horizon, they settled in among the cold winds, hoping for a moment's reprieve. As the leaves in the trees rustled softly and the sand beneath them pressed against their aching bodies, they tried to drift off without letting go of their wooden shields and swords.
The chill had sunk deep into their skin, but after such a long and exhausting day, their bodies finally yielded. Despite the discomfort of the coarse sand and sharp wind, fatigue overpowered it all. Some huddled against their shields as if they were blankets, while their swords lay close by, ready as if on standby.
In the cool morning air, the sky was still dark and clouded. The wind brushed grains of sand across their faces, stirring a few soldiers who cracked open weary eyes to scan their surroundings, only to succumb to their heavy eyelids once more. None of them were truly comfortable, but even this short break felt like a blessing.
After their prolonged training, the harshness of the wooden shields felt like the most comfortable beds they could hope for.
As the first light of dawn slipped over the horizon, the soldiers tried to savor their few hours of rest, their exhausted bodies sinking deeper into the ground. Ash took hold of a bucket of water and, with quiet steps, approached the sleeping soldiers. She began pouring the cold water over them one by one. The water soaked their clothes and spread quickly across the sand, as Ash firmly pressed more sand over the drenched spots.
At first, a few soldiers woke up, mumbling in confusion as the icy water seeped into their clothes, its chill combining with the biting wind to jolt their bodies awake. Ash's dark cloak drifted slightly in the breeze, but what truly held the soldiers' attention was her calm, confident demeanor.
One soldier, eyes flashing with anger, stood up and shook the water from his clothes. "What are you doing?" he barked, frustration evident in his voice. Others rose with similar reactions, grumbling as they brushed off the uncomfortable mixture of wet clothes and sand. Struggling to shake the chill from their bodies, the soldiers began moving toward Ash, their faces a mix of irritation and confusion. Still weary from exhaustion, they were not pleased with the abrupt end to their sleep.
"Who are you?" one of them muttered, his steps firm as he moved toward Ash. Another soldier clenched his teeth, growling, "How dare you do this to us?"
Ash's face was expressionless, her cold gaze revealing nothing. The soldiers' anger only grew under the weight of her unflinching calmness. Standing before her felt like facing a silent threat, yet the men, unaware of who she was, continued to approach her, angered and unyielding.
Then Aery stepped forward. When he saw one soldier reach out toward Ash in fury, he intervened without hesitation, striking the soldier's arm with a swift and powerful blow. The force sent the man stumbling to the ground, his face painted with shock and pain. The entire camp fell silent in that moment; no one had anticipated such a reaction.
Aery's gaze was dark and fierce. Without hiding his anger, he stepped heavily before the other soldiers. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, and his voice rose, commanding and loud enough to cut through the wind. "What do you think you're doing?" Each word grew sharper. "Your disrespect will not go unpunished!"
The soldiers, taken aback, stepped back in shock, but after Aery's words, fear and regret clouded their faces. Such disrespect was unacceptable in a military setting, and Aery had no intention of forgiving their mistake.
Aery glanced at the soldier who had fallen, then swept his gaze over all of them. His voice grew sharper, more commanding than before. "All of you! You will repeat the punishment you just completed, ten times over. Now!"
The soldiers' faces turned pale. They hadn't expected this, but the order was clear, and there was no room to back down. They felt the weight of fatigue settle over them again, but Aery's authority left no room for objections.
By the time the first light of morning crept over the horizon, the soldiers' eyes were red from sleeplessness. Yet Aery's strict commands and Ash's striking authority kept each of them firmly in place. They knew they had little time to rest, so they cast away any thought of idleness.
They began with a thousand push-ups. Each descent brought their hands hard against the coarse ground, intensifying their aches. But there was no surrender; Aery's watchful gaze remained fixed on them. "Keep going! No stopping!" he shouted, his voice echoing with each push-up, driving them forward despite the relentless strain.
Then came a thousand sit-ups. Each set pushed them further, their chests tightened, and muscles burned. But under Aery's tense gaze, they tried to bury the pain. "Push yourselves! Get stronger!" they whispered to each other, though the tone was anything but gentle.
Next, a thousand squats. As their knees bent and they rose again, they felt the limits of their endurance. The sun climbed higher in the sky, turning the heat stifling as the day wore on.
The hardest part of the day came with the 100 laps. As the soldiers circled the sandy ground, gasping for breath, they felt as though they were testing their very limits. Aery's voice was a constant reminder in their ears. "Faster! Move!"
By evening, the grueling routine was finally over. Each of them, though exhausted, exchanged glances filled with determination and resilience. Their eyes held a fierce resolve, a commitment not to break. Aery's training was not only strengthening them physically but fortifying them mentally as well.
However, this was only the beginning. They knew that the days ahead would bring the same rigorous drills. And with each day, Aery would become even more demanding and relentless.
After a brief 10-minute break, the soldiers, still catching their breath, quickly regrouped. Aery's voice cut through the air like lead. "Move! We still have much to do!" Ignoring their exhaustion, everyone swiftly fell into formation.
Push-ups were first. One by one, the soldiers dropped to the sandy ground, grit pushing between their fingers, their hands stinging with each fall. "Again! You need to do more!" Aery shouted, his eyes gleaming. The soldiers pushed harder, faster, trying to reclaim their lost motivation under his fierce gaze.
Next came sit-ups. Their abdominal muscles burned after the first set, but that wouldn't stop them. "Don't stop! How many are you? We're here until we finish all 1,000 sit-ups!" Aery's voice urged them on, each rep pushing them to grow stronger.
Then, 1,000 squats. Their knees ached with every repetition, but there was no giving up. Aery's words spurred them forward. "Stay strong! You will never surrender!"
During the runs, the evening heat bore down heavily. As they rounded yet another lap, the sandy path seemed to taunt them. "Run! Faster! Let's go again!" Aery's voice had become a driving force for each of them, propelling them forward lap after lap.
As the soldiers realized they would have to repeat this grueling routine ten times throughout the day, a wave of dread and uncertainty washed over them. Yet, under Aery's leadership, they steeled themselves, testing their willpower. They tried to keep their morale high, leaning on each other for support.
This relentless challenge would give them the strength they'd need to face tomorrow's enemies with newfound confidence. Each set was not only building their physical endurance but also toughening them mentally. And Aery's gaze was a constant reminder, urging them silently: You must do more.
While the soldiers continued their grueling drills, Ash sat calmly in front of the tent, swinging her legs with a relaxed ease. The cold wind gently lifted her white hair, making it dance softly around her. As the light touched it, silvery reflections appeared, adding a mystical allure to her presence. Her eyes were closed, and a faint smile graced her lips, suggesting she was savoring the moment.
The soldiers' shouts and the sound of clashing limbs drifted through the air, becoming a distant melody that surrounded Ash. This noise had transformed into a kind of music for her; watching the weary but determined soldiers fueled a quiet peace within her.
The cold carried by the wind brushed against Ash's skin, but she sat there with a unique grace, radiating a warmth that seemed to defy the harshness around her. Even in this grueling moment when the soldiers endured pain, Ash's calm presence stood unshaken, like a sea steadfast against relentless waves.
A moment later, as the echoes of Aery's commands and the strain of the training reached her ears, Ash opened her eyes. Watching the soldiers' relentless effort, she felt a growing admiration—and along with it, a sense of responsibility. With an inner resolve, she thought, They are capable of more.
Under Aery's guidance, they were preparing not only their bodies but also their minds for battle. Swinging her feet gently, Ash whispered, "When the time comes, they will understand the true meaning of struggle." Her voice drifted into the wind, but her belief felt as if it had anchored in the air around her, growing stronger.
Then, with a playful smirk, Ash picked up a small stone from the ground and quickly flung it towards Aery. The stone flew through the air, landing squarely on Aery's head. He tilted his head back in mild surprise, rubbing his scalp with his hand.
The soldiers, witnessing this unexpected moment, hesitated, momentarily pausing their training. Their eyes darted to Ash's mischievous act, and a few stifled chuckles threatened to escape. Yet, seeing the look on Aery's face, they fought to hold back their laughter. A few whispered among themselves:
"Does she even realize what she's doing?" one soldier muttered with a smirk.
Another chimed in, grinning, "Seems like she knows how to add a bit of fun to things!"
Aery, initially taken aback by Ash's unexpected prank, let a small smile slip across his face. "Alright, very funny," he said, his tone carrying a touch of amusement, though a trace of annoyance still lingered. Yet there was a subtle satisfaction in allowing himself this small playfulness.
Ash grinned back. "Found a good target, sorry!" she replied, raising her hands in mock innocence. The soldiers, watching this playful exchange between the two, enjoyed the brief, lighthearted shift in the otherwise tense atmosphere of training.
Ash then stood up, her gaze sweeping across the soldiers with a cool intensity. "That's enough. Rest until the next operation," she commanded. Her cold tone instantly shifted the air back to one of seriousness.
Aery was caught off guard by this sudden change, his eyes widening. After a moment, he responded, his voice carrying a slight hesitation. "But... I'm not sure they've pushed hard enough. Maybe they should train a bit more..."
As Ash stood in front of the tent, her eyes glinting mercilessly, she turned to Aery. "This is a test, Aery. They can't escape this responsibility," she stated, her gaze unwavering. She then faced the soldiers surrounding her. "Each of you will endure my resolve. Until you convince me, you won't escape this duty."
One soldier squinted, his voice laced with frustration. "But, my lady, how can we bear such hardships? Isn't this unfair, pushing us this hard?"
Ash responded with a cold smile. "Unfair? You're fighting to avoid dying in agony, torn apart by monsters. How do you expect to improve without pushing your limits? Or do you plan to flee and hope to survive? If you try, I'll find you myself and make sure you suffer."
As her words echoed through the dark and cold air, the soldiers swallowed hard, struggling to contain their fear. One of them whispered, his voice trembling, "Monsters?" The word rippled through the ranks as the soldiers' eyes widened, glancing uneasily at one another.
Some of them, feeling the weight of that term, grew visibly more fearful. "Monsters? What could possibly exist in this world that could be called a monster?" they murmured among themselves, their minds stirring with dark scenarios that only fueled their growing dread.
As one soldier rubbed his hands together, he muttered, "If our training is this brutal, it must mean we'll be facing a real enemy. Maybe those who see this hell with us…"
Finally, another soldier mustered the courage to ask, "If we're facing such danger, how will Aery help us? Or are we going to be left on our own?"
His question cast a silence over the crowd. The soldiers, waiting anxiously, felt a ripple of fear rising among them as they looked to Ash for an answer. She lifted her head, locking eyes with the soldier, her gaze cold and unyielding.
"You'll descend to the depths of hell," she whispered, her voice calm yet dripping with menace. Her words made the air feel heavier, and the soldiers immediately sensed the ruthlessness and truth behind them. Fear intensified within them, a shadow creeping into their hearts.
Ash's expression hardened further. "Survival is not your choice. Yes, in this battle, you'll stand alone," she said, each word striking like an arrow piercing through them. "Just complete your duty. The weak will be lost in the depths of this hell. Only the strong will return."
A murmur spread among the soldiers. "Descend into the depths of hell? Really?" some whispered. While a few couldn't hide their fear-stricken faces, others began questioning Ash's determination in light of such a harsh reality.
Turning her back, Ash stepped toward the tent, her voice cutting through the tension as she addressed Aery. "It's time to return to the palace."
This statement intensified the already charged atmosphere. Aery felt the weight of her words; her gaze was like a cold, retributive force. Questions swirled in his mind about what awaited them back at the palace. This unexpected command, delivered with unwavering resolve, signaled both a return and a grave responsibility.
Outside, the soldiers exchanged anxious glances, wondering what Ash's call for their return truly meant. A sense of unease stirred in Aery's heart. "Ash, but we still…" he tried to say, but Ash turned, casting him a look that brooked no argument. Her eyes held an order, unquestionable and absolute. It silenced his doubts and compelled him to act.
"Our time is short. Everything must be in place," Ash said, her words hanging in the air like a quiet, consuming silence in the face of the unknown.
The soldiers exchanged bewildered glances upon hearing that Ash and Aery had decided to return to the palace. After years of living like a nomadic band among the mountains, stones, and forests, they began to question why they were so far away now.
"For years, we've been fighting on this land," one soldier said, his voice trembling with anxiety. "But if we have a homeland and a stronghold, why are we so distant? Why aren't we being brought back home?"
The other soldiers nodded in agreement, their eyes reflecting a sense of loss and longing for belonging. They had started to yearn for the castles and homes in the lands they had struggled for, now obscured from view. Yet, under Aery's leadership, they had grown accustomed to living in uncertainty and fear.
"Perhaps something is happening," another soldier suggested. "Is there a threat? Or is there something they're hiding from us?"
A fearful silence enveloped the group. Each soldier's mind churned with thoughts of what their enemies might be plotting. Within them, there was a lost courage trying to resist the overwhelming fear.
At that moment, Aery stepped in front of Ash and said, "We know where the palace is. But there must be a reason for us to stay here," her voice trembling slightly with fear. "We're weak; if we go there, we'll die immediately."
Ash turned to them with a stern expression. "Home is where your safety lies. If we need to go, we must do it," she said. "I cannot allow any of you to die; not after everything we've been through. Be prepared."
The soldiers bowed their heads, trusting Ash's words. With the flicker of hope that emerged within them, they tried to grasp the true meaning of a homeland and a stronghold, but they found themselves unable to do so.