The sound of the horn echoed around the camp, shattering the morning's tranquility, as if urging every soldier to awaken from their slumber.
Borne and his nine comrades sprang to their feet the moment they heard the horn, driven by an invisible force.
No one spoke, and no orders were needed; they were all accustomed to reacting in moments of urgency.
Their movements were quick and efficient, almost completing their preparations while still half asleep.
Borne swiftly laced up his boots, his fingers deftly tying the straps before donning his uniform.
His actions were fast, yet precise, as this reflex had become second nature to him.
Everyone prepared in perfect synchrony.
The sound of leather and fabric rubbing together filled the quiet of the tent, a constant reminder of the tension.
The atmosphere in the tent was tense but silent, as though each person was silently performing the same routine.
Borne still felt a little groggy, his thoughts fuzzy, but none of that hindered his body's reactions.
These actions had become part of his muscle memory—he could perform them flawlessly even in a half-asleep state.
Though their minds had not fully woken up, their bodies were trained to follow every step the moment the horn blared.
After gearing up, Borne and his comrades swiftly jogged out of the tent, the morning's faint light casting long shadows on the ground, the air carrying a slight chill.
More soldiers began to emerge from the surrounding tents, hurrying toward the nearby river.
Borne and the others jogged in an orderly fashion to the river, cupping the icy water in their hands and splashing it on their faces.
The cold water instantly cleared his mind.
Water droplets slid down his cheeks as he quickly rinsed his mouth, then rushed toward the gathering grounds.
The sound of footsteps broke the morning's silence, the steady rhythm echoing as boots hit the dry ground.
More soldiers were already standing in neat rows on the open field, awaiting orders from their praefectus castrorum.
Borne joined his own unit, standing alongside his comrades, his expression serious as he gazed ahead.
Everyone's expressions grew serious as they waited for the day's training.
The praefectus castrorum and other officers soon appeared in front of the soldiers.
With their arrival, the previously murmuring crowd instantly quieted down.
Every eye was focused on the praefectus, awaiting his command.
He scanned the area, then spoke in a deep, commanding voice.
His words echoed across the open field, reaching the ears of every soldier clearly.
"Today's training exercise—hand-to-hand combat!"
As soon as he finished speaking, some soldiers exchanged glances, a hint of nervousness in their eyes.
The praefectus looked around once more and continued.
"No weapons allowed—only fists and feet.
Remember, this is not just a test of strength, but also of technique and reflexes.
Stay sharp!"
His voice was sharp and authoritative, his gaze as sharp as a blade, filled with commanding presence.
With a wave of his hand, he signaled the soldiers to begin pairing up.
"Find your opponent and prepare to start!"
Soon enough, the soldiers were ready for their combat training.
"Begin!"
The praefectus's voice was as brief and commanding as ever.
With the order given, Borne immediately switched into combat mode.
Standing across from him was his childhood friend, Viktor.
The two had grown up together and knew each other well, but today on the training field, they had to take this confrontation seriously.
Borne locked eyes with Viktor, feeling a hint of excitement.
"Watch out, Borne," Viktor said, clenching his fists and assuming a fighting stance.
"You too," Borne replied, readying himself for the fight.
The sounds of punches and kicks echoed around the camp, with the dull thuds of impact coming one after another.
The atmosphere was tense, and the energy of combat filled the air.
Viktor made the first move.
His fist whistled through the air, aimed straight for Borne's face.
Borne's eyes narrowed as he quickly sidestepped, narrowly dodging the blow as Viktor's fist brushed past his ear.
Not missing the opportunity, Borne retaliated in the split second when Viktor couldn't pull his fist back.
He delivered an uppercut straight to Viktor's abdomen.
Thud!
The sound of fist meeting muscle rang out.
Viktor grunted and stumbled back two steps, clutching his abdomen, but his face showed no sign of backing down.
Instead, he broke into a wide grin, his fighting spirit only growing stronger.
Wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, Viktor got back into his fighting stance, ready to strike again.
This time, Viktor charged forward with even more ferocity.
His fists flew like hammers, repeatedly aiming for Borne's chest and head with a flurry of powerful strikes.
Borne moved his feet quickly, dodging several heavy blows, but the intensity of Viktor's assault was beginning to wear him down.
Smack!
Borne took a solid punch to the shoulder, and his whole body staggered back several steps, sharp pain shooting through his shoulder.
He nearly lost his balance.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain in his shoulder and quickly regaining his stance.
As he stepped back, a determined glint flashed in Borne's eyes.
Without hesitation, he ducked low and delivered a sweeping kick, counterattacking in an instant.
The power in his legs surged forward, his kick slicing through the air towards Viktor's legs with a fierce gust of wind.
Sensing Borne's counterattack, Viktor's eyes narrowed as he braced himself for the incoming strike.
Viktor lightly tapped the ground and deftly leaped into the air.
Borne's sweeping kick just barely missed his feet, grazing past as Viktor nimbly dodged it.
"Almost!"
Borne didn't give Viktor any chance to catch his breath.
Moving swiftly, he capitalized on the moment when Viktor was still mid-air.
He lunged forward, his body leaning in, and with all his strength, launched his left fist straight at Viktor.
Borne's punch landed solidly on Viktor's shoulder, producing a dull thud.
Viktor's body shuddered from the impact.
He stumbled back several steps, clutching his shoulder, hissing in pain.
Just as Borne and Viktor were gearing up for another round, the praefectus's voice boomed from a distance, cutting through the tension between them.
"Stop! That's enough training for today!"
The two immediately halted, both panting heavily.
Though there was still a lingering battle spirit in their hearts, they knew better than to disobey the captain's orders.
The captain glanced over the soldiers on the training field.
Noticing that it was nearly time for breakfast, he gave the next command.
"Training is over!
Help each other apply medicine, then go get your breakfast!"
Hearing this, Borne and Viktor exchanged a look.
Viktor shrugged casually and said with a grin, "Let's eat first."
Borne nodded, still feeling the pain in his shoulder.
They both sat down and started tending to each other's injuries from the training.
Viktor pulled out a small jar of ointment he carried with him, expertly squeezed out a portion, and began applying it forcefully to Borne's shoulder.
The ointment, which should have felt cool and soothing, instead came with an unexpected force from Viktor's heavy-handed touch, almost like he was getting some payback.
"You really hit hard there, bro.
That punch almost went straight through my gut," Viktor joked, flashing a wide grin of gleaming white teeth.
His hands, however, were not nearly as gentle.
Borne immediately felt a sharp pain shoot through his shoulder as Viktor applied the ointment.
The pain was so intense that he couldn't help but grimace, his body trembling slightly.
"I wish I'd killed you. What a pity," Borne gritted his teeth and forced a response, trying to endure the discomfort.
Viktor laughed heartily, clearly unfazed by Borne's 'threat,' and continued to press down firmly with the ointment.
The pain was so bad that Borne nearly lost his balance, his shoulder feeling as though it were on fire.
Despite the burning sensation, he resisted the urge to push Viktor away.
Viktor gave Borne's shoulder a final pat and flashed a smug smile.
"Alright, your turn."
Borne glanced at Viktor and returned the smile, but his was more of a cold smirk.
He took the ointment, squeezed out a generous amount, and began applying it to Viktor's injured abdomen and shoulder.
Borne didn't hold back either, pressing down with all his strength.
With every application, Viktor's face grew more strained.
"Getting your payback now, huh?"
Borne pressed even harder, and Viktor's face twitched, though he stubbornly refused to give in.
"You… you think I care about a little pain like this?"
Viktor said, gritting his teeth and trying to sound nonchalant.
Borne didn't respond, continuing to press the ointment in with precision, each push aimed squarely at Viktor's sore spots.
His hands were firm and deliberate, hitting the right places with just the right amount of force.
Viktor's body tensed visibly, though he kept up the bravado.
Still, his complexion began to pale slightly, revealing that the 'treatment' was taking its toll on him.
"You should've been a bathhouse scrubber with those hands.
You've got the strength for it," Viktor muttered through clenched teeth.
Borne chuckled without responding, keeping up the pressure.
After spreading the ointment evenly, Borne finally pulled his hands away.
Viktor let out a long sigh of relief, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
The two exchanged a glance, taking in each other's disheveled appearances, and in the next moment, they both burst into laughter.
With arms around each other's shoulders, they headed off to get their breakfast.
Viktor playfully punched Borne in the stomach, and Borne responded with a kick to Viktor, nearly causing them both to trip.
Laughing, they threw insults at each other.
"You're such a bastard."
"You're son of a bitch."