RE:volt! Chapter 39: Training The Mind and Body
1.5 YEARS LATER
Ark Age 15:
Under the chilly bite of winter, Ark’s battle cry mixed in with the hundreds of others as he thrusted his spear.
“PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT! YOU ARE AIMING TO KILL! NOT MAIM! NOT INJURE! KILL!” Bruno barked, the knight standing atop of a podium overlooking rows of teenagers and kids practicing thrusting maneuvers with wooden spears tipped with iron heads.
“STAB! STAB! STAB!” The knight barked as helpers walked behind the teens, moving to correct form and posture wherever possible to ensure a uniformed training session.
“HALT!” Bruno hollered. “SHIELDS!”
At his command the gathering of a hundred plus slaves dropped their spears and reached for the heavy wooden shields that were affixed to their backs. With rehearsed precision, the group of gathered servants moved in unison, crouching low with their shields interlocked and raised above their heads as dozens of rocks arched through the sky and slammed down on their shields.
Ark grit his teeth, the loud bang of rock striking wood extremely painful to his sensitive and evolved hearing. Now age fifteen, Ark had hit a growth spurt, standing as tall or taller than most of his peers who were seventeen and eighteen. His muscles were more tone, his eyes more refined, and his hearing and sense of smell were just as keen as a low level knight if not more despite being only at the cusp of a breakthrough from red to orange. A self imposed restriction he’d placed on himself as to not be detectable by Bruno’s sudden hawk-like gaze.
No longer a drunkard, the man had begun drilling the slaves day in and day out after Ark had learned of the upcoming war. Bruno worked them day and night, the man near zealous in his regiment of nonstop training and lecturing, the knight throwing himself fully into the task of training the slaves.
Bruno was still a bastard, but a bastard who, underneath the stern face, punches, and insults, was a man who cried himself to sleep every night, often in his armor and cradling a bottle of booze.
In some twisted fashion, the man seemed to believe that if he did a good job, it would absolve him in some part of the children he’d sentence to death thus far and the actions he’d been complacent in.
At least, this was what Ark surmised as he spied on the overseer at night.
He would still die of course, but out of the helpers and overseers, Ark felt he deserved it the least.
“SLINGS!”
At the command the slaves dropped their shields, reaching for the slings and the bag of rocks tied to their waists.
“LOAD!”
The slaves loaded their slings.
“AIM!”
The slaves began aiming their slings, targeting the air where their rocks would soar and smash into the other group of combat thralls training on the other side of the arena.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“FIRE!”
The slaves flung their rocks, the little chunks of earth soaring into the air where they arc’d into the other side of the arena where an audible cascading *THUNK!* sounded out repeatedly from their rocks hitting shields.
“SPEARS!”
The slaves picked up their spears and repeated the process.
***
After weapons training, was marching training, after marching training was exercises, after exercising they were finally allowed to eat before the process began again until they were finally dismissed at dusk for dinner and sleep.
Of course this left everyone exhausted, Ark included. However this didn’t stop him from checking in on his cohorts, making the rounds and engaging in light conversation with them.
Even Isa and Axel talked with Ark, the boys now followers of Ark as they and others listened to his instructions on how to perform certain fighting techniques.
War was coming, and between his instructions and Bruno’s, Ark could only hope that those he talked to and instructed would survive.
Enjoying yourself? Irelix said, sitting cross-legged on the cot across from Ark's as he stretched his toned muscles, his body unnaturally unperturbed by the elements of the cold. In fact he was warm, so warm in fact that on his cot was Thirty-Four and Thirty-Three, the two girls waiting to cuddle him.
While originally resistant, Ark eventually gave up as the pair refused to shiver in the cold, both hounding him after realizing he was warm.
Thanks to his biology as a dragonling, Ark's body naturally produced an innate heat that made him warmer than his cohort's and protected him from the cold. Turning him into a walking body pillow that Thirty-Four used to cuddle for warmth.
Not one to leave her sister's side however, Thirty-Three also joined in, squeezing into his cot and burying him much to his discontent and the dismay of the other boys.
Ark laid down, frowning as their soft skin brushed up against his body, causing in part his libido to activate. However, thanks to constant diligence, he was able to suppress his dragon's innate desire to dominate, taking in a cool deep breath as he scowled before activating his reality sphere.
Immediately Ark's world transformed, bringing him to the barren wasteland where Irelix was upon him, the silver and black scaled woman slashing down at him with flaming talons.
Ark pivoted, catching the woman's wrist and throwing her, the dragon spinning in the air once before her wings sprouted from her back and she hit the ground on all fours, the very earth cracking from her weight pressed down against it.
She charged, barrelling at Ark like a rabid beast before suddenly pouncing into the air and transforming, her body ballooning in size, flashing white before she slammed down in the spot Ark had once been with her dragon form.
Ark backpedaled, his fists raised as he opened his SPELLBOOK, swapping his spells, replacing blunted barrier with smokescreen as Irelix roared and charged.
“Smokescreen.” Ark spat, diving to the side as a cloud of black smoke shrouded his surroundings, coating the dragon that charged into it.
Seizing the opportunity, Ark swapped Smokescreen with Spark as he rolled out of the darkness.
“Spark.” Ark ordered, his fingers subconsciously snapping and creating a spark that ignited the smoke, creating an explosion that sent Ark careening away.
“IS THAT THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!” Irelix roared, the dragon swishing her tail and dispelling the flames around her as her mighty wings unfurled. “This is real firepower!”
The leather beneath Irelix's white and black scales began to glow red, smoke billowing from her mouth before she opened her maw, releasing a torrent of hot white flames that turned the sand beneath her feet into solid glass.
“Grasp Flame!” Ark spat, quick swapping his skills and taking a hold of the fire, a feat, that under normal circumstances could never happen due to the differences in skill. Yet, thanks to their shared connection with one another, the spell recognized the flames as already belonging to Ark, allowing him to divert the attack back at Irelix.
Suddenly, dozens of glyphs appeared in the air, the world rumbling as magic swirled, a magnitude of spells being centi-cast all at once as Irelix flexed.
“Ah shi-”
Ark didn't get to finish his sentence as he was suddenly vaporized by the power of a hundred different spells fired at him all at once.
