Soul of the Warrior

The Candidates were dismissed for the day after they were given the order to fall out. They weren't directed to the barracks to wash up, and they weren't led to the mess hall. They were instructed that they were on their own until they were mustered in the morning.   Reivyn noticed that, despite the lack of direction, there was still the presence of soldiers with clipboards in the distance, watching and taking notes.   "C'mon," Reivyn said to Jek. "Our bodies will recover as we go. Let's get washed up, changed into clean clothes, and get some dinner. I noticed a particular lack of information on the time they would muster us in the morning, so we should expect to be woken up at zero-dark-thirty."   "Zero-dark-thirty?" Jek asked with a skeptical look. "Is that military jargon or something?"   Reivyn frowned as he contemplated the saying. I've never heard anyone mention that term before, he thought. It seems like more and more unusual things from my dreams are spilling over as I'm doing things more closely related to those memories.   "Something like that," Reivyn responded, turning to walk toward the barracks in the distance. Not only Jek followed him, but the other two individuals who had taken his advice about military bearing also fell in step with them.   "Oh, hey, what're your guys' names?" Jek extended a hand, a friendly smile on his face.   "Derik," the first man shook Jek's hand with a nod.   "Furok," the other man answered.   "The name's Jek, and the boss-man, here, is Reivyn," Jek said.   "Boss-man?" Derik questioned, tilting his head as he peered at Reivyn.   "Don't look at his young face," Jek replied. "He's the one with the experience. You've heard his advice. He seems to know what he's talking about."   "Yeah, what he said made sense," Furok said. "The others who dismissed his words didn't even listen to what he was actually saying."   "If you pay attention, you can see that they're taking notes on everything that we do," Reivyn nodded his head in the direction of the clipboard soldiers. "Everyone who's still lying on the ground back there, or just milling about, can be sure that that behavior will be noted on their record.   "Everything they're doing is a test to see how we'll act. We weren't given a specific time that they'll wake us up, and they're leaving us to our own devices to see if we're responsible enough to make the right decisions. The right thing to do right now is get cleaned up, get a meal, and get some rest. Everyone else who takes their time right now will be eating into their sleep time, and they'll suffer for it tomorrow."   "Makes sense to me," Jek said.   If people were willing to listen to him, Reivyn wasn't going to keep his thoughts about the training to himself. It didn't hurt him to have others do well, and there was no reason to be a loner in such a situation. Especially since the entire reason for the training was for a leadership position.   The four Candidates quickly got cleaned up and into fresh uniforms. They had been supplied with several uniforms, implying they would go through a lot of them in a quick time frame, and there was a laundry bag to put their soiled clothes in. They hadn't been informed of the protocols for cleaning their gear, yet, but it was only a matter of time. They wouldn't let the Candidates run out of fresh uniforms unless it was due to the Candidate's own negligence.   They filed into the mess hall, and Reivyn immediately spotted that there were already some delicious-looking meals pre-prepared for the candidates; however, as they moved in and grabbed their plates, Reivyn also noticed that the replacement plates were filled with less appetizing fare. There were only enough of the more tasty-looking plates for the first ten people, and Reivyn's group snagged four of them.   Reivyn walked to a table at random. They were all empty, so he wasn't too picky about the location. As soon as they sat down and started eating, Reivyn noticed some more people enter the mess hall. A group of people in similar uniforms walked in, but he only recognized the first two girls: Fira and Sera. Fira perked up as soon as she saw Reivyn, and she quickly grabbed a plate with Sera and separated from the other three to walk toward his table.   "I see the real reason you were in such a hurry to get here," Jek elbowed Reivyn in the ribs, glancing sideways at the two ladies approaching their table.   "It's just a perk," Reivyn smirked.   "Whew, quite the day," Fira said, plopping her tray down right next to Reivyn's. Jek was seated next to him, but he obligingly slid his tray over and took a different seat. He gave Reivyn a wink as he moved his tray.   "So is Sera having to participate in the same training?" Reivyn asked. He didn't address Sera directly, as he assumed she would just brush it off and not answer, though Fira had no such compunction.   "No, she just stands to the side and watches," Fira said as she sat down. "She's not going to be an official member, and because it's provisional, they allow her to stay by my side. We made sure to get it in writing on the contract with the legal team."   "Good idea," Reivyn nodded.   The meal was actually quite good, and Reivyn was happy that he had rushed to get there. It wasn't just the ability to spend some time with Fira, the food was truly good. It didn't last, though, and he noticed that several of the people who took their time before heading to the mess hall after the training session grumbled about their inferior meal.   Now wasn't the time to be focusing on spending time with Fira, so they only conversed for as long as the meal allowed. He and his new mates quickly made their way back to the barracks as the sun reached the horizon, and Reivyn urged them to go to sleep and get some rest right away. It appeared that the night watch would be handled by the enlisted soldiers, so he didn't have to worry about that aspect, though he suspected the real candidates would have had to provide for their own.   Reivyn lay in bed, about to go to sleep when he pulled his arm up and inspected the Prisoner's Shackle on his wrist.   The System said it can't be removed by the person wearing it, or by anyone else also wearing one, but the System also has had a habit of not giving all the information, Reivyn mused as he looked over the band. The Akashic Record wouldn't be a thing if it did. I wonder...   Reivyn circulated his Mana, and he found that it functioned exactly like it was described by the System. He infused his pure Mana with his different Affinities, going through each of them one by one. As soon as he reached the Tier 3 Affinities, he noticed that the restriction imposed by the magical item seemed to be strained.   He ran through the Tier 3 Affinities quickly, but none of them did any more stress on the restrictions than any of the others. He finally moved on to his Tier 4 Eternal Affinity, and this time, the Mana was able to materialize above his palm. It felt like it was moving through a sieve, though, and it was a strain on his abilities.   So these bands aren't infallible, Reivyn confirmed. What about Veridical Affinity?   He infused his Mana with his Tier 5 Affinity, and he was able to manipulate it freely as if there were no restrictions at all. Reivyn infused his Mana with Fire and wrapped it in the Veridical Affinity, and he was able to create a ball of fire with no problems.   If the Veridical Affinity allows me to bypass the restrictions on Mana, does it affect the other restrictions as well?   Reivyn infused his entire body through the Weapons Master and Elemental Weapons combination, as they were still accessible even when reduced to Level 1. His Weapons Master Skill was high enough that he no longer received any assistance from the System, though, so it wasn't impeded. That Skill was wholly his.   His entire body was infused with the Veridical Affinity, and he felt his strength return to him. Gone was the lethargic feeling caused by his Stats being reduced to 20 across the board.   That's refreshing, Reivyn's entire fatigue was wiped clean. It's a bit of an unfair advantage over the other candidates, but they did specifically say that we can use our Skills, and the ones high enough to not need System assistance wouldn't be impeded. That implies I'm allowed to use my abilities to bypass the Prisoner Shackles.   That would defeat the purpose of the training, though, and I'm not a good enough actor to deceive them if I'm using my full Stats. I'll just use this little trick to regain Stamina if I need to.   Reivyn reached over on a whim, his body still infused with the Veridical Affinity, and he just simply removed the band with no problems. It just came right off when he twisted the snap.   Huh, that, too, Reivyn chuckled. Looks like the Veridical Affinity is the universal key. Reivyn put the bracelet back on. He wasn't going to risk going to sleep with it off due to the chance he might forget to put it back on in the morning.   And Reivyn was once more right about the timing of the sergeants waking them up. It felt like his eyes had just closed when they came in, making loud noises, yelling and banging on things to wake everyone up and get started on the next day. Jek gave him a thumbs up and a wink as they ran out to fall into formation, and Derik and Furok gave him a nod of appreciation.   Not everyone had gone to sleep in a timely manner, though most actually had. There were several people who were still stumbling about, trying to wake themselves up when they got into formation.   "Yesterday was just a taste," the senior sergeant said, taking his position in front of the formation. "Today is the first, full day of training. We're going to have fun."         The two weeks of psychological evaluation were a grueling affair. If all of the candidates had access to their full stats, it would have been a walk in the park, but they were all reduced to their Tier 1 Stats.   The instructors had their jobs down to a science. The local military wasn't large enough, and it didn't have enough rotation in its members, to require them to act as candidate instructors all the time. Despite that, though, they were able to pool their knowledge and experience from across the kingdom, and there were years and years of experimentation to draw upon.   It was a little hectic the first few days. The instructors weren't used to only spending two weeks on the training. The regular officers had to spend three months in training, and the instructors had to figure out how to condense that three months into two weeks.   The training that ramped up gradually that usually took place had to be accelerated. If Reivyn had to come up with an analogy, they started at a jog and worked toward a run, completely skipping the baby steps.   The first full day of training had been more of the same as the first, though they went considerably longer than the first day. Breakfast and Lunch were also closely monitored, separate from the Mage Corps Candidates. The evening meals, though, were considered "free time," and both the Martial and Casters had the same time span. The so-called "free time," though, was only enough time to get washed up, eat, and sleep if they didn't want to be dragging the next day.   The first week went by in a blur, culminating in the instructors leading the Candidates into what they called "the hot box." They did their calisthenics and exercised in a closed room that had had the burning sun bearing down on it all day.   The instructors pushed them physically while still yelling and correcting their movements, and it didn't end until several Candidates had passed out from the heat and dehydration. Reivyn noticed that the ones who passed out were the ones that were chronically late to get meals and rest. He shared a look with his new entourage, and he could see clear relief on their faces that they had joined up with him in the beginning.   Reivyn didn't use his nifty trick to regain his Stamina until well after each session had been recorded by the clipboard soldiers. He felt compelled to operate in an above-board manner when it mattered, but when it was time to finally rest, he didn't see the need to continue to suffer if he had the tools to bypass it. Because he always maintained his bearing, nobody noticed any difference in how he acted, so nobody noticed that he was always fresh almost immediately after a training session.   The second week of the training was entirely conducted out in the field.   They were loaded up with packs of food and water, and they carried their freshly laundered uniforms out into the desert. Everyone present for the Candidate Training was an experienced Adventurer, so roughing it in the field wasn't a problem for them. The increased intensity and lack of decent rest after were what broke them.   Reivyn stood tall, sweat pouring from his brow, after a particularly tough training exercise in the sand. Even his three followers in the program were having a hard time recovering. Several of the Candidates were laid up on the floor, and one of them stared up at him resentfully.   "Bro, you're making the rest of us look bad," he complained, grimacing while panting for breath. "Is your Prisoner's Shackle even working?"   "Yeah, I never see him struggle with anything," another one chimed in. "Are you doing something to your bracelet to cheat?"   "Yeah, I suspect this guy's cheating," a third one added their voice.   Reivyn stood there, his three companions behind him, and watched as the rest of the platoon started to complain and voice dissent. The senior sergeant, Torran, Reivyn had learned at one point, came marching over.   "What's the commotion about?" He demanded. "This is a precious opportunity for you to recover what little Stamina you have, and you're wasting it clamoring like magpies!"   "Senior sergeant, we think this guy's cheating," the first Candidate stood up, pointing at Reivyn. He took several steps toward the young man, thrusting his finger into his chest to emphasize his points. "He never struggles," thrust. "He's always able to go on, no matter how hard the training," thrust. "He never has to collapse to the ground after, like almost everyone else," thrust. "And he always gets the best food," thrust.   Reivyn let the man thrust his finger into his chest over and over again, and after the last one, where the man tried to really drive his finger forward, he snapped his hand up, grabbing the offending finger, and he twisted it all the back to the back of the man's hand. The man cried out in shock and pain as Reivyn clasped his hand over the other man's, trapping his finger bent all the way back. The other Candidate's knees buckled from the pain as he threw his head back and howled.   He stared down at the man impassively as he tried to claw Reivyn's hand off with his other hand. Reivyn simply brushed the man's attempts off, and then he slapped him across the face. The man was stunned for a moment, completely not expecting such an action, and even the senior sergeant seemed like he didn't know what to do at first.   "I don't care about your feelings," Reivyn opened his mouth, staring the man down. "Go ahead and suspect me of cheating. I know I'm not. But if you think you're going to march up to me, and thrust your finger against my chest like that without any repercussions, then you must have been kicked by a donkey as a child. Keep your hands to yourself, or lose them."   The other Candidates, his three followers and the sergeants included, stared at Reivyn slack-jawed. He was obviously the youngest person present, and nobody had expected such an aggressive stance from him. They had assumed, as a much younger person, that he would have gone along with what the older, more experienced people decided to do.   Reivyn finally let the man go, and he stumbled back to the ground, tears and snot dripping from his face. He cradled his hand with the clearly broken finger against his chest, scooting back to get further away from Reivyn.   "Here," Reivyn held his hand out, offering his Prisoner's Band up for inspection to the senior sergeant. The senior sergeant stared at Reivyn for a moment before stepping forward.   "Medic!" He yelled over his shoulder before turning his attention to the Prisoner's Shackle. He grabbed ahold of it and brought out a device to inspect it. The item he brought out looked similar to the communication device Fira had used to send the information of Kirlon ahead. It was a simple, rectangular object with a wand extending from it, and it was used to check the Mana levels and functionality of the Prisoner Shackles.   "It's working perfectly," the senior sergeant turned toward the Candidates who were now silent but were previously complaining. "In fact I would say that the Mana reserves powering it are probably higher than all of yours are. Now get back in formation. You've wasted your resting time on this nonsense."   The vast majority of the other Candidates let the matter drop, but a couple of them frowned in Reivyn's direction as they turned to get back in proper formation.   "You might have made a couple of enemies," Jek leaned forward and whispered.   "Doesn't matter," Reivyn shook his head. "The ones in charge are likely to view me in a better light, and that little stunt will definitely leave a black mark on their record. Interfering with military order is a serious crime, especially in a combat situation. If they're so small-minded as to accuse someone of cheating because they're doing better, and they're willing to cause a distracting commotion over it, how are they going to be trusted with command?"   "Maybe," Jek shrugged. "But they need the bodies. There are only enough candidates, at least right now, to barely take command of each fifty-man platoon of volunteers. We've already had fifteen people quit, and five were kicked out."   Reivyn nodded his head.   "You might be right, but we're all going to be Provisional Lieutenants. I don't have to worry about being under them, and we'll have other officers in charge of us to limit any revenge they might think of taking. And if they make the supremely stupid decision to try and take revenge in a combat scenario, they'll fail, and they'll be made an example out of."   "I believe you. Just keep your head on a swivel, just in case." Jek clapped him on the shoulder.   "Thanks," Reivyn smiled.   The platoon of Candidates continued their evaluation after the short interlude. Most of the others didn't think anything more of Reivyn's performance, but he noticed several others keeping a closer eye on him after each session. The one who Reivyn had bent his finger back didn't quit, and he wasn't knocked out of the program from the injury.   The soldiers simply used some healing magic to fix the break, and he kept going. There were no longer any comments from him or the others who had congregated around him, though, and the training went on.   Each day was filled with physical exertion to the extreme. They had to lift logs up and down as a unit and then ran several miles while carrying them over their heads. They had to crawl through the hot desert sand, their clothes getting inundated with it to stay for the rest of the day. Most of the training was team exercises in one way or another, and Reivyn speculated that they were recording the way the Candidates reacted to the others who weren't pulling as much weight just as much as they were in the effort given by the individuals.   A military unit was fundamentally different from an Adventuring group. They were both groups, but the level of teamwork and the mission were completely different. The soldiers in charge of the training had to ensure that the ones who were going to be the leaders of the other volunteers were not only competent individually, which was discovered during the recruiting process, but that they were also team players who knew how to be gracious when the time called for it.   Reivyn wasn't silent during these exercises, either. He yelled just as much as anyone else. When someone was lagging behind and struggling, he would give an encouraging word. If someone was slacking off, he would call them out on it, but he would drop the issue as soon as they put their back into it. He never complained, though.   Reivyn wasn't the only one setting a good example. Most of the Candidates were chosen for a good reason. The complainers actually made up a small minority of the group, and their voices got smaller and smaller as Reivyn and the others set a good example. It was common for people to descend into mob mentality, especially when complaints were loud and aggressive, but the Officer Candidates were generally more mentally mature and experienced to fall into that.   The Candidates had a good sense of camaraderie and pride, even the ones who were initially the loudest in their complaints when they finally returned to the city. There was a sense of accomplishment for the Candidates involved, and they held themselves high as they marched back to the barracks.   Reivyn was looking forward to eating a good meal again. Seeing Fira in the mess hall once more wasn't too bad of a prospect either. He didn't suffer quite as much as the others, but his little trick wasn't that much of a game changer. Everyone always had enough time to rest to be close to 100% by the start of the next day, and Reivyn didn't use his advantage during the exercises.   "Alright," Senior Sergeant Torran addressed the remaining thirty Candidates outside of the barracks. "We've seen what you're all made of. Tomorrow will start the classroom instruction. We have two weeks to teach you guys how to lead your troops. We're not expecting any tactical geniuses or anything, but you'll all be able to put swords and spears to target when and where they're needed.   "You're provisional, temporary officers, so we'll be able to cut out a lot of the history, ceremony, and other classes not strictly needed for the rescue operation. If, in the future, you want to join the ranks of the regular officers, you'll have to make up all of the classes we're cutting, but you won't have to go through the evaluation to test your mental fortitude and character again.   "We've prepared a good meal for everyone this evening as a reward for completing the first part of the training. All of the food from this point forward will be of the better variety, though not quite as good as the meal tonight. It's a special occasion.   "Once I dismiss you, step forward to the troops, and they'll collect your Prisoner Shackles from you.   "Fall out!"   None of the Candidates collapsed to the ground this time. They hadn't been as physically tested towards the end of the day, for one, and they were also finally used to the exertions. Reivyn got in line with the others and filed forward to have their bracelets removed. Reivyn rubbed his wrist where he had allowed the shackles to remain for the previous two weeks, the skin more tender and white than the rest of his tanned body.   "Whew, that feels good," Jek said next to Reivyn. "I almost forgot what it was like to have my full Stats. I feel like I could smash through the walls of the barracks."   "You're a Level 70 Martial Classer," Reivyn pointed out. "You probably could easily smash through the barracks walls."   "You know what I mean. It just feels good to finally be done with those infernal bracelets."   "Let's go get cleaned up and get fed," Reivyn said, Derik and Furok joining the two. "I'm looking forward to a hot meal, again."   "You mean you're looking forward to seeing your little girlfriend, again," Jek chuckled.   Reivyn smiled.   "I never said I wasn't."