"One, two, slash!"
"Blight, did you skip breakfast? Straighten your waist!"
"Eyes forward, strike!" ...
The training grounds were filled with the voices of squad leaders drilling their soldiers. Everyone was on edge, even the usual troublemakers remained disciplined, knowing that their captain's future was at stake. Any mistake could cost them dearly.
Every now and then, soldiers would glance at the dark green tent in the center of the camp. Finally, the tent flaps opened, and several squadron captains walked out.
A few sharp-eyed young soldiers greeted them eagerly, "Uncle Monte, you're out!" "Good day, Captain!"
However, each squadron captain was preoccupied with their thoughts and barely acknowledged the greetings. The soldiers, understanding the mood, quickly returned to their formations.
Knight Will was the last to emerge. He strode into a group of training soldiers and casually selected two of them. "Go, bring Jelson and Caesar to the training grounds behind the camp." The two soldiers immediately understood and sprinted off.
When the excited young messenger delivered Knight Will's command to Caesar, he knew he had succeeded. Under the envious gazes of his soldiers, Caesar headed to the rear training grounds alone.
The rear training grounds were a mysterious place in the soldiers' eyes. Only squadron-level officers were allowed to train there. The grounds were vast, nearly as large as the main training field used by hundreds of soldiers.
When Caesar arrived, Jelson was already waiting at the gate. After greeting the guards, the two of them entered. The guards, already informed, said, "Lord Will is waiting for you inside."
Jelson was a man in his thirties, with a sallow complexion, a thin but tall build, and a solid reputation in the camp. It was no surprise to Caesar that Jelson had been promoted.
"Caesar, my brother, your promotion doesn't surprise me at all. Everyone in the camp knows your name," Jelson said warmly.
"Come on, Jelson, don't tease me. You've been promoted too. By the way, do you know our assignments? Which squadrons are we going to?" Caesar asked.
"No idea, brother. But I expect we'll hear by this afternoon," Jelson replied.
"Yeah, I think so too. Let's not keep Lord Will waiting," Caesar said.
Although Caesar should have addressed Jelson as "uncle" given their age and military experience, Jelson had deliberately called Caesar "brother" to close the gap between them. In the military, strength defined respect, and Caesar's skills justified the informal bond.
The two soon reached the center of the training ground. The area was more than just an open space; it included several tents, watchtowers, and fenced-off training zones. Knight Will stood in the largest section.
Caesar and Jelson stepped forward respectfully. "Lord Will," they said in unison.
Will responded with a brief nod. "You'll be training here from now on. I'll be supervising you periodically. Use the equipment freely, but don't damage anything," he said, gesturing at the array of spears, swords, and even suits of armor nearby.
"The reason you're here today should be clear. Your official appointments will be announced soon, so I'll skip the formalities. Today, I'll teach you the Eagle Fighting Energy," Will stated plainly.
Though Will was a noble knight and technically superior, both Caesar and Jelson sensed a faint air of condescension in his tone. They adjusted their attitudes, showing utmost humility. After all, they needed his guidance.
"The Eagle Fighting Energy is the standard combat technique of the Eagle Legion. From the legion commander to regular soldiers, everyone trains in it. This manual can elevate you to the rank of knight if mastered. Before we start, you must swear not to share it with anyone else!" Will said sternly.
"Yes, sir!" they replied in unison.
"Now, I'll teach you how to condense a Fighting Energy seed. Pay attention..."
The afternoon passed under Will's instruction. As dusk fell, the clouds broke, and crimson light illuminated the horizon. Caesar and Jelson stood firm in their stances, their faces flushed as they strained.
This was the first step in mastering Fighting Energy—condensing the Fighting Energy seed. The ideal age to start training was between twelve and fourteen, but both men had missed that window. Nevertheless, their mental strength and determination made up for it.
For most people, it took one to three days to condense the seed. Talent mattered little; it was a test of willpower and body control. Although their specific appointments were still unknown, neither Caesar nor Jelson was willing to lose to the other.
At last, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Caesar roared, "Condense!" A tiny, milky-white energy orb formed below his abdomen.
Jelson, spurred by Caesar's success, also let out a loud shout moments later. His eyes were wide with effort as a faint white speck appeared in his core.
Knight Will, who had been observing silently, approached them. "Impressive. Both of you managed to condense the seed on your first day. Rest well tonight. Follow the energy circulation pattern I taught you, and come find me if you have questions."
With that, Will turned and left.
Caesar and Jelson, both gasping for breath, looked at each other and burst into laughter. They had taken their first step into the world of true strength, gaining control over their destinies.
Two soldiers came forward to support them back to camp, clearly following Will's orders.
By now, it was long past dinner time, and the two couldn't join Baron Kyle's table. Instead, they headed to the camp mess hall. Cook Cory had already prepared a meal for them.
Though modest by noble standards—just white bread and meat soup—it was the best meal Caesar had ever had. The soft, sweet white bread was a far cry from the hard black bread he was used to. He devoured it greedily, as did Jelson.
After dinner, they went their separate ways. The camp was quiet except for the occasional patrol and scattered torchlights.
As Caesar approached his squad's tent, Peter, standing guard, spotted him and shouted, "Caesar's back!"
A group of soldiers rushed out, grabbing Caesar and tossing him into the air in celebration. Unfortunately, his overstuffed stomach protested painfully.
Despite his discomfort, Caesar couldn't help but smile as he recounted the events of the afternoon to his excited men.
"Caesar, does this mean you're stronger now?" Tom asked eagerly.
Caesar thought for a moment before replying, "Probably."