Chapter 525: Elite

Chapter 525: Elite

Karsa

"Faster! Even toddlers could run faster than you lot!" shouted drill instructor Merxin as the sun rose behind him.

His shouts and insults affected us the first day, but after that, we barely listened anymore. We all focused on running, which was the easiest part of the training.

There are sandbags on our backs and metal plates attached to our limbs.

I am dead tired. Every part of me is screaming to stop, even if just for a minute.

I didn't, if I stopped, it would all be over. I will not be able to get back up and run. I experienced it once, and I don't want to experience that pain again.

The consequences of that are worse than what I am experiencing right now.

Hun!

Suddenly, the person in front of me fell, and I avoided him by inches and continued running.

When I first joined the army, it was rare to see a person falling after training, but here, it is common. I have learned to avoid them.

This training is much harder than the army training. It was like a breeze compared to it.

This is the training of the seventeenth battalion. The elite battalion of Lt. Colonel Uram.

It had been nearly twelve weeks since it began, and thousands of tried. More were trying every day, but most of them would give up after the end of the day.

Four days ago, nearly everyone who attempted had given up.

The recruitment is still active. Anyone from the army could try, including their recruits, as long as they fit the physical requirements.

The most important is the age limit.

For humans, it is twenty-seven, orcs thirty, and for half-elves, thirty-five. Elves and giant bloods, it is forty.

I have seen thousands struggle before giving up in an hour. Still, many others are trying. Arriving from Greltheaven, including a large number of orcs.

I was one of the few forest orcs in the company. Most of the orcs, with me, are from the island.

It didn't matter to them what the color of his skin was. What matters is strength and ability.

There is respect for the name "Elite." I have seen how the orcs from the island talk about the elite armies. Just the mention of an elite group lights up in their eyes.

There are additional allures of higher pay, better equipment, and the chance for faster level-ups.

It had been eleven days since it had started.

I am part of the first batch. Every day, a new batch would join and most would give up. They then would be assimilated into another batch.

No matter what one's batch is, they will need to survive this training for thirty-two weeks.

Only those who stayed by the end with adequate performance would get recruited into the elite battalion, and that would be probationary.

The recruitment training time is long. It's made even longer by the training hours.

They train us for sixteen hours every day. It isn't just endurance and fighting. There are also lectures and other stuff.

The thing is, this is the first course of training. There are five phases, the first course being the easiest.

"The bastard craizan, he wants to kill us!" cursed the orc beside me.

'Craizan', the insult for Lt. Colonel. He is not insulting but cursing.

Bakre is the best in the batch; we both joined the army at the same time and were part of the company. I was surprised he stayed in the company.

He is from the biggest and most powerful orc tribe and also the scion.

Shaman Trik is his grandfather.

He curses but moves without stopping while others fall down. Seeing him moving, I pushed myself hard. Crushing any thoughts that want me to stop.

"At ease," she said before turning the board.

"Today, we will learn about the inception of iron fangs," she said as she wrote the name of one of the most famous legions of the continent.

She started, and I listened while taking notes.

When it was over, we moved again toward the weapons training.

I entered one of the training rings, and opposite me was a man nearly twice my age. He is a human in his mid-thirties with a bald head and a scar running down his neck to his chest.

He is holding a practice saber while I have a practice sword in my hand.

"Begin!"

The order came, and I moved toward the man with the Quick Steps before swinging my sword with my newest skill.

Heavy Strike!

Clang!

The man stopped it almost casually before swinging his saber at me fast.

Clang!

I countered with my sword, activating Parry as they clashed, but it didn't work. The man countered the skill before swinging his saber at me.

Pach!

I was unable to dodge it, and he hit me hard across my shoulder with the back of the blade before attacking again without wasting a second.

I countered immediately, but the saber had hit on the other shoulder and attacked again.

Clang!

This time, I was able to defend, but the next one hit me again.

I didn't focus on the pain and only fought him with the ultimate goal of landing the hit.

Which is very hard. Near impossible.

This is the most painful training. They made us fight, people, of Lv. 20 or closer to twenty, and those people are merciless.

They did not hold back, and by the time sparring was over. I couldn't even sit without screaming in pain.

Merciless this training might be, but it is effective. The whole training, not just this one component.

I had observed that my stamina had increased while my combat style had become more refined. My skills have become more efficient than before.

It is only a start.

I don't want to get washed out. I want to stay and complete the training.

I want to join the elite battalion.

The weapons training lasted for two hours before the bell rang, and I sat down, with every part of my body screaming in pain.

I only got five minutes of rest before I went to take the ice bath.

After that, it was another class.

Then, formation training, field training, and obstacle course. All of them make the morning drill a breezy walk.

After it was over, it was dinner time, and then an hour of study before sleeping at nine.

I watched the lights go off and closed my eyes to sleep. I need to sleep fast to get as much rest as possible to repeat this hellish training.

Which is going to get worse as the days pass.





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