Baffled by what they had heard, the four of them blurted out in unison,
"Two years?"
"That makes her eighteen years old,"
Ardran, sensing their confusion, called it a night and gently urged them to let it go for now. "Tomorrow, you'll receive your armor and rank.
Hours later, after wrestling with the thoughts of what Sara, the elf, had told him, Yacha finally managed to fall asleep. But his dreams were twisted.
A woman appeared before him, her lips moving, mumbling something incoherent. He couldn't see the upper half of her face, but the sound of a stab cut through the dream, followed by a quick shift to a nightmare.
Yacha found himself watching soldiers slaughter old men, burning wooden houses, while a dead horse lay beside a flipped cargo cart. The woman in a light green dress appeared again, blood trickling from her neck, soaking the fabric.
The image flashed between darkness and her headless body. Her severed head rolled toward Yacha, eyes wide open, staring at him in rage. She grinned, baring her teeth, and screamed, "IT IS YOUR FAULT!" Her agonized voice rang in his ears as he jolted awake, drenched in sweat. He knew these dreams were fragments of an old memory he couldn't fully recall.
The following morning, after the squad readied themselves, Ardran approached them. He had heard rumors of Yacha and Ursang's abilities and wanted to see them firsthand.
"The two of you, get ready for a spar," he commanded. Yacha and Ursang exchanged glances, eager to prove themselves.
They grabbed their weapons and made their way to a vast green yard, where a small crowd had already gathered. Among them were Squad Leader Chris, other soldiers from their dorm, and some newer recruits.
Even Mastrata was there, shouting out to Ursang with a challenge. "Bring down the arrogant big guy!"
Speira smirked, punching her left hand into her right palm. "The one who beat you?" she teased.
Chris stepped between Yacha and Ursang, laying out the ground rules.
" don't kill each other, and no magic," he said before stepping back.
Commander Ardran then raised his voice, signaling the start. "BEGIN!"
Yacha gripped his spear tightly, its needle-like tip gleaming in the sunlight. Across from him, Ursang held his double-edged sword firmly.
They began to circle each other, their footfalls soft on the earth. Yacha moved first, feinting a thrust toward Ursang's midsection. His spear sliced through the air with precision, but Ursang was quick to sidestep, countering with a downward swing that clashed against the spear. The sound of metal on metal reverberated, filling the yard with the unmistakable thrill of combat.
The two exchanged blows, their movements fluid and precise. Yacha's spear darted like a striking snake, testing Ursang's defenses with each thrust. Ursang, in turn, wielded his sword with calculated strength, deflecting Yacha's attacks with ease.
"Is that all you've got?" Ursang taunted with a grin, his footwork nimble as he parried a particularly fierce thrust. Yacha's eyes sparkled with challenge, and he responded by pressing harder, his spear moving faster and with greater force.
Laughter erupted between them, mingling with the sharp sounds of their weapons clashing. They pushed each other to their limits, their breath growing ragged yet exhilarated. For every quick strike Yacha landed, Ursang would respond with a powerful sweep of his sword, forcing Yacha to retreat and catch his balance. Their camaraderie was evident, a bond forged through friendly rivalry and mutual respect.
As the sun climbed higher, casting a golden light over the courtyard, time seemed to blur. Their spar became less about victory and more about testing each other's resolve. Finally, after what felt like hours of intense back-and-forth, they stepped back, panting and smiling.
"I think you've finally worn me out," Yacha admitted, wiping sweat from his brow, his earlier focus giving way to a broad grin.
Ursang chuckled, nodding. "Next time, let's switch it up—sword for you, spear for me!"
A crowd had gathered, watching in awe as Yacha and Ursang displayed their impressive skills. Gasps of admiration rippled through the onlookers, as they marveled at the fluid grace and raw power of the two fighters. As the spar drew to a close, the crowd fell silent, waiting for the final blow.
"Ready for one last hit?" Ursang asked, his voice steady despite his exhaustion.
"One final blow," Yacha agreed.
Both fighters, though worn out, squared off once more. The sun was beginning to dip low on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the yard. Yacha lunged forward with his spear, aiming for Ursang's midsection. Ursang, anticipating the strike, raised his sword in a sweeping arc to deflect the attack. Their weapons clashed with a thunderous sound, and a shockwave rippled through the ground as they poured all their remaining strength into the final strike.
The courtyard went silent as the crowd murmured, astonished by the display of skill. Questions floated through the crowd.
Are these really newbies? What kind of commander could have trained them over the last ten years?
Commander Hadleigh pushed through the crowd, standing tall as he watched the two warriors, pride evident in his gaze. Both Yacha and Ursang collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, their battle finally over.
As they lay there, Hadleigh stood over them, while Commander Ardran approached, signaling that the match was a draw. Mastrata, watching from the sidelines, felt a mix of humiliation and anger, realizing that Yacha and Ursang had held back during their previous encounter. Elin gently approached him, her presence calming.
"Mastrata, now you've seen what they're capable of, and that was without magic. We understand why you had to do what you did," she said softly.
Mastrata walked away, his face a mix of sadness and frustration, disappearing into the crowd.
Hadleigh, proud of what he had seen, turned to Ardran, his pride palpable. But Ardran, irritated by Hadleigh's arrogance, barely acknowledged it.
Suddenly, Hadleigh remembered, "I almost forgot! Your official uniforms and armor are ready."
Among the crowd, a girl stood, with a grin smile on her face. Ardran recognized her, but he didn't say a word, he just nodded. That's the boy she was looking for.
Ardran was confused, why did Commander Shino know about a thunder attribute user? He already knew she played with the carnage exam when she sent judges of her own choice.
"What kind of games Shino is playing this time?" He said to himself.