Chapter 12, The Demon's Feast.
The sun was at its peak, the heat waves burning its rays through the skin of the recruits assigned to sergeant Vren.
The other Sergeants had already dismissed their recruits, but Sergeant Vren was a man on a mission.
And that mission relates to a peculiar young man with green hair and unusual dark skin.The young man was presently counting while practicing his push-ups, training his body diligently as ordered by the Sergeant.
Sergeant Vren lowered his gaze from the miasma layered sky and looked down at the over two hundred recruits laying half dead on the ground, some of them puking out whatever organs left in their guts out, and some fainted fellows were in the process of being resuscitated by their sweaty comrades.
Sergeant Vren sighed dejectedly.
Elijah was still counting vigorously while practicing his push-ups, as far as Sergeant Vren was concerned, he was a sight for sore eyes.
Sergeant Vren slapped his cheeks with both hands.
"No, I can't let this brat win, but if I don't stop here… some of the recruits might just end up dying before the battle even begins… I will just have to come up with something later on, this kid is clearly a tough nut to crack".
The Sergeant's eyes suddenly went wide, drawing perplexed looks from the corporals assisting him.
"That must be it, First Lieutenant Verayth ordered me to break him, so obviously he wouldn't be so easy to deal with, I should have known a mission from first lieutenant Verayth wouldn't be so easy, I need to rethink my strategy, but for now."
Sergeant Vren stepped forward and addressed his recruits.
"Alright everyone, It's finally afternoon… Time for breakfast". Vren said with a shifty smile.
…
Taelia struggled to lift her aching body, her eyes darting from left to right before finally settling on the overly motivated Elijah.
At first, she was impressed with how tenacious he was, but after being put through hell for six grueling hours, she was more miffed than amazed.
Elijah finally halted his relentless workout, rising to his feet with a strained breath. Every muscle in his body aching in protest, yet he stubbornly fought against the urge to crumble.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Taelia slumped against the ground, utterly spent. Without hesitation, he extended a calloused hand toward her, his movements steady despite his fatigue.
Taelia didn't bother with formalities. She gripped Elijah's hand firmly, using it as a lifeline to pull herself upright.
But her strength betrayed her. The moment she stood, her legs gave way, and she stumbled forward, colliding into Elijah's chest with a faint thud.
Her head rested against him, the solid warmth of his frame grounding her, while his faint, manly scent drifted toward her.
Yet, exhaustion dulled her senses too much to care, her focus solely on staying upright as her breaths came shallow and uneven.
Elijah held Taelia's waist and asked lightly.
"Do you need help getting to the mess hall?".
Hmm
Taelia expressed lightly.
…
The sergeant's booming voice cut through their exchange, jolting the recruits into action.
"Mess hall's waiting for you, maggots! Move it!" Vren barked.
The recruits, battered and sluggish, began to shuffle toward the mess hall, their movements resembling a zombie march.
Elijah moved at an even pace, his eyes scanning the recruits around him. Most were on the verge of collapse, their faces pale and drawn. The ordeal had broken their spirits, but something in Elijah's dark green eyes gleamed.
Taelia trudged beside him, her steps faltering every so often. She glanced sideways at Elijah, perplexed by his resilience.
"Do you ever get tired?" she muttered, half in irritation, half in admiration.
"Not as much as I used to," he replied simply, his gaze fixed forward.
As they entered the mess hall, the recruits were greeted by a pungent smell that hit like a wall. The air was thick with the odor of raw meat and something far more rancid.
On the tables lay chunks of monstrous beast flesh, glistening with unnatural hues, and bowls of a viscous, crimson liquid, the beast blood.
The room fell silent as the recruits stared at their "meal" in horror.
"This is breakfast?" Taelia asked, her voice filled with disbelief and revulsion.
Several recruits gagged, their faces contorted in disgust. One of them, a wiry young boy with flaming hair, raised his hand shakily. "Sergeant, this… this can't be safe to eat…"
Vren's glare could have melted steel.
"Do I look like I care? If you're too weak to stomach it, then get out of my sight!"
Elijah stepped forward, his expression calm yet curious. He reached for a piece of the raw meat, his fingers brushing against its slimy surface. Without hesitation, he brought it to his mouth and bit down.
The room collectively held its breath as Elijah chewed, his jaw working like a steam engine.
Taelia gaped at him, her voice low but urgent.
"Are you insane?".
…
Elijah swallowed, his throat bobbing visibly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze locking onto Sergeant Vren.
"Tastes like overcooked chicken,". His tone flat but tinged with faint amusement.
The recruits erupted in murmurs.
Elijah didn't stop there. He reached for a bowl of the beast's blood and tipped it to his lips. The thick liquid coated his mouth and throat as he drank deeply.
It tasted terribly, but the series of notifications from the demon lord revival system kept him motivated.
"Interesting," Elijah murmured to himself, setting the empty bowl down with a clink.
Sergeant Vren's smirk faltered for a brief moment before returning, sharper than ever.
"Well, looks like we've got a volunteer to lead by example," he said, clapping his hands together. "The rest of you, dig in! Or would you rather be outdone by this brat?"
The recruits hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances. Taelia, still staring at Elijah like he'd grown a second head, finally sighed and picked up a piece of meat, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
"If I die, I'm haunting you," she muttered before taking a small, hesitant bite.
As the recruits began to eat reluctantly, most gagging between bites, Elijah leaned back slightly on his chair, his mind racing and his eyes darting at an illusory screen that could only be seen by him.
From the corner of the hall, Sergeant Vren watched Elijah closely, his mind whirring with new schemes.
"If this kid thought he'd won today, he's sorely mistaken, the game is far from over… anything to please first lieutenant Verayth".