Book Two – Chapter Six – Part Two – Training Time!

Fisher took a deep breath and yelled as loud as he could. “This is how you’re going to train your muscles! Now, start running! Fifteen laps, then back to me! Go!” He raised his leg and stomped it down, signaling the start. All at once, the six mentees started moving. Arms pumping and legs running, Servi’s form gradually began to change.  

The previous day, she ran sloppily and hunched over. But now? She had her ears in line with her straight shoulders. Her arms were tucked in and at a 90-degree angle. Her hands were clenched into a fist, and she pumped them up and down. They came to right below her chin before going back to her hip, which was very slightly leaning forward. 

As she slowly pushed ahead of the pack, one of the Koena had the bright idea to mimic her running stance. It wasn’t something he could perfectively mimic after seeing it once or twice. Servi had to rely on Soul Essence of Primal Combat, an otherworldly technique to get that stance in the first place. But little by little, he began to pick up speed. His form wasn’t as good as Servi’s, but she was impressed on quickly he improved. 

Three laps later, and Servi was in the lead. Silverado, the one one who did his best to copy Servi, was in second. Desperado was in third. Riki and Rakkire were fourth and fifth, respectively. Feral, with his large body, was in last. Running speed wasn’t a Kobold’s strong suit. Instead, it was their strength, toughness, and stamina to fight for days without sleep that made them so feared. It would take time, but Feral would cross the finish line.  He wouldn't even come close to running out of breath, however.

“Come on!! FASTER!!” Fisher ran alongside the two Dwarves when they rounded the corner and encouraged them to pick up the pace.

By the sixth lap, Servi had solidified her lead, but she slightly slowed down.

What's wrong? Itarr asked out of concern.

After making sure no one was around her, Servi answered her friend. “I don’t want to stand out. I know that sounds stupid because of what happened yesterday, but I don’t know why I did what I did. I didn’t want to try to pick Feral's shield up, and I didn’t want to meet his attack head-on... Maybe I was just caught up in the moment?” 

Nothing. Itarr remained quiet and allowed her friend to think about it.  

By the eleventh lap, Rakkire and Riki slowed down enough to take the fifth and sixth spots.  As Dwarves, they were used to a hard life of mining ore from the mountains or rocks, but they weren’t used to running long distances. Their arms were built on swinging hammers and pickaxes, and they could easily match a Human or Koena in terms of strength.

Feral took the fourth position. Desperado noticed Silverado copied Servi's form and did his best to match it. He spent too much time trying to get it just right, and that cost him some speed.

And by the fourteenth lap, one before the last, the two Koena were struggling to even move their feet. The Dwarves had started walking since they didn't have the stamina to run anymore. Fisher, of course, hated that.  He had no use for those who gave up if they could move. He kept his commanding persona and ran over to the stragglers.  

“What the fuck are you doing? Run!!” Yelling at them, Fisher hooted and hollered, doing anything he can to make them run.  

His training focused on breaking down his recruits and rebuilding them from the ground up. That was what he did for his guards. But for this mentoring program, he decided to push his training to the brink. These Demis would probably be partied up with other Humans, and those Humans were the sole reason he was doing this. 

“Look! You get tired when fighting, and you die! What happens next?! Your party dies! That’s what happens!! You end up in a nest of goblins, and your legs are heavy? You all get eaten alive! Do you want that to happen? Do you want the ones you’re fighting with to die because you happen to get tired?! If you do, then leave! I have no use for those who give up!!” 

The two Dwarves dug deep within themselves and found anger. Anger at being told they were weak. Like everyone, the two had a past that deeply affected them, and that was the reason they signed up for Warden.  

The two found a source of strength they didn’t know they had, and their legs kicked into high gear. It wasn’t a run, but it wasn’t a walk. Being a mix of somewhere in between, Fisher wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t as mad.  

Everybody has a past they want to forget. I know that well. That's why I need to force these Demis to relive it if they ever want to grow stronger. Come on, Fisher, do this for the Humans! 

The Captain's little speech to the Dwarves unintentionally affected the Koena. They glanced at each other and betrayed their aching muscles. Their mind wanted them to move and finish the fifteen laps, and the body did all it could to stop them.  

In the end, the mind won.

One lap later, Servi crossed the finish line first.  Feral, who never stopped or slowed once he picked up some speed, came in second. “A Kobold’s stamina is immense! Hahaha!!!” he happily slapped his tail against the ground as he boasted.

The third and fourth were the Dwarves, Riki and Rakkire, in that order. They only managed to squeak past the Koena during the last turn and finished a few short seconds ahead of them.

“You all did good," Servi said.  She walked over to the four who laid on the ground on their backs. Oxygen entered and left at such a rapid pace.  

“In..credible… Your…St..amina..is..unlimited..” Riki muttered in between gaps of breath.

“I…didn’t…know.. Humans…had..so…strength..” Desperado wheezed. Servi thought he had to be hot. Dark black scales in the middle of summer? It had to be rough. Silverado, meanwhile, was getting to his feet.  

“Listen up! Every day, bright and early for six days, you will run and run and run! Be tired, or even hate me, but you wanted to be tanks, right?! This is nothing compared to what they have to take!!! Now, run over to the field and grab a weight!!” Fisher stomped once again and watched as his six mentees walked over.  

They walked, not ran, and that was something unacceptable to Fisher.

“Did I say walk?! Run! RUN!!!” and just like that, the four, who struggled to find strength in their legs, ran faster than they believed they could.

Servi reached the weights first, and she didn’t know what to grab. Fisher appeared beside her a moment later, and she saw a few droplets of sweat drip down his brow.

“What the fuck are you doing? I said to grab it!! GRAB IT!!!! I didn't say fucking watch!!!!” Servi did as he asked and grabbed the 10-kilogram weight.

“Now, lay the fuck down and hold it up! Hurry the fuck up!!" Fisher ran past Servi and shouted at the other five.

A minute later, the six of them were on their backs in the grass, and they had their arms outstretched to the sky. They were holding their weights.  

Servi had 10 kilograms. Feral, with his hulking body, took the 100-kilogram weight. Riki chose the 50, and Rakkire wanted the 51-kilogram weight. And Silverado and Desperado picked the 48 and the 45-kilogram weights, respectively.  

“As a tank, your arms will be battered, brushed, bruised, and buckled under the weight of attacks! Your arms need to be strong enough to wield a shield capable of protecting your party from any-fucking-thing that comes your way! Hold your weights straight up for fifteen minutes! And don’t you dare drop it! If you do, then if this was out in the field, you would’ve died! Congratulations, you and your party died because your arms hurt. Fucking deal with it!” 

He shouted and pulled out a watch from his pocket. It was one of those that cost a few thousand dupla. It could tell the time, the temperature, and it even had a stopwatch inside it.  The circular shell of it was brown and matched its owner's eyes, and there were three blue-tipped buttons on the left side.

“Start!!!” he shouted as he clicked one of the buttons. Servi held her arm straight up, gripping the sides of the weight with both hands.  

“Why such a low weight?” asked Feral. The sight of a large Kobold on his back holding a 100-kilogram weight in the air was something to behold.   

“I strained myself picking up your shield. I’m going to take it easy for a bit.” 

Feral growled and went silent. He thought that was a good enough reason. She was a Human: a person with soft skin and weak bones that snapped like twigs. They were more for attacking than taking the honorable position of a tank.  

If Fisher noticed them talking for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Honestly, Fisher couldn’t help a Kobold in the physical department. Only a fellow Kobold could do that, and he thought that Servi was strong enough. Even if she wasn't as strong as he would've liked, he could tell she had an incredible amount of stamina.

Servi is hiding something. She has to be... Why else would I feel this way? My instincts are never wrong, but...

He shook his head and focused his attention on the four that needed it. Or rather, the two. Dwarves worked with hammers, banging molten metal all day and night to make weapons. Their thick arms and craggy hands were burly and rough, and like he assumed, the two had no trouble at all with the exercise.  In some ways, Fisher couldn't help them that much in the strength department. 

The two Koena, on the other hand, had some problems ten minutes in. First, their arms started to wobble. The massive weight, to them, at least, was too much. When it came to Koena against Kobold against Dwarves, Kobold took first place in both offense and defense. Dwarves had the silver medal in physical prowess, and Koena came in second with their hard scales that acted as natural armor. Fisher saw the struggle in their eyes and walked over. He placed a hand on Silverado's weight and gently lifted it up.

It wasn’t a show of kindness. It was a test. The moment the silver Koena breathed a sigh of relief, he failed. 

“Why do you think you need special treatment? You came here to be a tank, right? So fucking endure it! Five fucking minutes!” he dropped the weight, and Silverado cried out for a moment. Fisher did the same to Desperado.  

“If you can’t endure this, then your party better find another tank. I know I wouldn’t trust myself to some fucking weaklings."

Tears flowed from their eyes, and Fisher figured the two couldn’t take it.  

There are always quitters. Always. I suppose this time it happened to be these two.

He reached out to remove the weights when Feral’s voice stopped him.  

“Silverado, Desperado, I’ve heard that Koena are strong. Their scales are only second to a Kobold. But now, I can see that was a lie. The Human is doing better than you, and her flesh and bone are weak and soft. They are so easy to tear."

I'm sorry for being soft and weak, I guess? Servi thought, but she didn't get mad.  She figured that Feral was trying to encourage the two Koena in his own way.

Fisher stepped back and waited. This was what he was waiting for, but it happened far faster than he expected. It was small, but there was a chance it would backfire.

They’ll come to hate me from my ruthless training, and bonds will form between them. Remember, Fisher, you’re doing this for the Humans. That’s all…. 

“Silverado, swear on the Great Scaled Serpent. We cannot let this break us!” 

“I will. I swear on the Great Scaled Serpent!” 

“HYAA!!!” Both let loose some sort of war cry from deep within their lungs, and their arms became rigid. Fisher didn’t smile. Not for these Demis, but unbeknownst to him, a tiny spark of light flashed in his mind, and it carried a message. As for the content of that message, he would figure it out later when he came face to face with his trauma.

For the next and last five minutes, all six mentees on the grass stayed silent. They all finished together. The moment Fisher stomped his foot, Silverado and Desperado simultaneously cried out. When they rolled over, the heavy weights slid from their loosened grips and made a soft thud when they slammed into the ground.

"Silver, we did it!" Desperado cried.  

"We did!"

Feral sat up and gently laid his weight.  Servi thought it was a bit weird, but she did the same and stood up. She heard a soft grunt from the two Dwarves as they accomplished the workout without a worry.

After watching the two Koena and Dwarves rub their arms, Fisher spoke to them. “That pain in your arm is nothing compared to the lives of your party members. You have no right to ever, ever drop your shield! If your hand is cut off, use the other one! If that is chopped off? Hold it in between your fucking stumps! Have someone tie to your arm! Doesn’t fucking matter what you do, but you never drop it!” 

Since the six of them weren’t planning on joining the guard, he didn’t make them salute. And he wasn’t going to punish them with the more intense comradery exercises as if he was training a new group of soldiers. They didn't need to learn how to salute or march, but the training was going to be tough: far, far challenging than anything they had ever been through. It was only fair.

“Bet you maggots are tired? Tough shit. Sit-ups! Now! Do 50! Afterwards, do 5 more laps!!” Fisher stomped his feet, and all six went back to the grass. Because it was June, the sun, high and bright, had warmed the grass until it was nice and toasty. The Dwarves were sweating like crazy, and the Koena had some kind of liquid dripping from their scales. Servi thought it could’ve been sweat, but she couldn't be sure.  

Is this really supposed to train bodies? In my eyes, we're only moving repeatedly.   

Since there were no Singi nearby with their sensitive ears, Servi answered her friend in a whisper that was barely above the grunting coming from her right. She started on her sit-ups, keeping a mental count every ten times as a set. 

“Yeah. Fisher's logic is sound. Muscles get stronger by working them. They tear a little bit, then when they heal up, they’re stronger. But I reckon that doesn’t work for me.” 

I don’t think so, either.  

“I guess that only applies to when the body heals itself over time. True Immortality doesn’t count since it’s instantly repaired.” 

That's right.

Servi was the first to complete her 50. Then it was the two Koena, Silverado being first. Then it was Riki and Rakkire, whose body just oozed sweat down their bronze-like skin. Servi was afraid that they would’ve passed out since she knew they had to be thirsty. Feral ended up finishing last. As a Kobold, he wasn’t that flexible. But he wasn’t tired.

Servi couldn't understand why someone like him would want to join a mentoring program.  In terms of physical abilities, he won in every category.  

Unless he wanted to learn strategy? Maybe that's it? Does he really need a plan with a body like that? Servi wondered in her mind.

As for the five laps, Servi came in first, followed by Silverado, Desperado, Riki, and Rakkire. Feral ended last, but only because he had a late start.  By the time Riki and Rakkire were on the third lap, Feral was just finishing his sit-ups.

“You’re all exhausted! Tired! Worn-out! Remember this feeling, and learn to overcome it! Be prepared to start at 8 AM tomorrow! You’re dismissed!”  Fisher shouted when Feral finally finished his laps. With a quick salute, Servi's mentor turned on his heel and presumably went to his office.

Servi, still with her same fair face free of sweat, turned to pick up her gear. She went to put it on manually over her clothes and saw Silverado supporting Riki and Rakkire supporting Desperado. It quite a show of camaraderie, and that tugged at her heartstrings.  

“It's nice to see people supporting people.” Servi smiled as she slipped her shield on.  

I agree. Servi, do you think there’ll be a day where everyone can act like that? 

Servi thought for a moment. “I do,” She felt a tinge of something, but it faded away.  

After she slid her shield through her arm, Servi left the training area and wandered through the hallways until she came to the lobby. He looked up from a packet of paper and smiled.  "How was it?"

“Fifteen laps, fifteen minutes of weights, fifty sit-ups, and five more laps.” 

“Ah, I see he went with the 85 today,” he said.  

Servi was confused, so she asked him to clarify.  

“Captain Fisher’s training is based around numbers. It starts at a number, this case being 85, and refers to the total amount of exercises done. Be warned, it’ll only go up. But I’m surprised. Not even grown men can walk without limping after experiencing one of his workouts.” 

“I’m a lot tougher than I look. I train hard every day.” Servi lied as she bragged about her athletic ability. She couldn’t tell the truth, so she made something up.  

“I see. So ya gotta be here at 8 again?” 

Servi nodded and asked what the time was. She was told it was a little past 2 PM.  

Six hours?! It didn’t feel that long.  

Servi thanked Roland and went to leave. She jogged all the way home, stopping by a stall to buy a cup of tea. It was sweeter than she'd expected, but it was enjoyable.  

I guess this is going to be our lives for the next month. Itarr quipped.

“Yeah,” she said as the Warden office came into view, “It is. You know, it feels familiar. Like, I’ve done this type of thing before. At least, I think I might have.” 

Do you think it could be a memory? 

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t trust it. I haven’t been feeling the same. I think I might relax for a while. Maybe I'll take a nap.” 

Servi entered and saw Claire in the distance. She was behind a window and was in the middle of helping a fellow adventure. It’d be rude of her to turn and wave, but her eyes did glance over for the quickest moment. Servi smiled and made her way up to the third floor.  

Inside her room, she locked the door and stripped down before taking out the fancy bed.  

I’ll be sure to wake you up if someone knocks.

“Thank you,” Servi muttered as she laid her head down. Again, she curled up until she was in a ball-like shape. It must’ve felt comfortable because she drifted off to sleep moments later.