Volithur’s nose crunched under the fist and he fell back onto his rear. His vision cleared just in time to witness Instructor Gordo’s cupped hand make contact with the smirking brawler’s ear. Volithur’s assaint stumbled and fell to his knees. Instructor Gordo executed a rapid kick, smming the bone of his shin directly into the downed man’s temple.
As the man finished colpsing, Instructor Gordo lifted Volithur back to his feet and poked at his nose. “Not broke. You’ll be fine.”
“What about him?”
Instructor Gordo gnced down at Volithur’s unconscious training partner. “He’s a foul tempered simpleton. I could have him removed from the militia, but I like the idea of him being on the front lines if the monsters invade here.”
Volithur felt at his nose, which seemed to be swelling. “Monsters? You mean the Jinn?”
“Ha! The Jinn are human. If not for their mastery of machines, they wouldn’t be able to compete with us on the unempowered worlds. The monsters are nightmares come to life. They wiped out the Orisha and Titans. Killed every st human on Aes.”
“Are they coming here?”
Instructor Gordo cpped Volithur on the shoulder. “Only if they’re stupid. A world full of Xian, even weak Xian, is not a target of opportunity. I’m going to show you some footwork drills that you can practice for the rest of css.”
Volithur set to work practicing stepping forward, back, left, right, diagonally each direction, and circling left and right. The instructor would yell at him from time to time, typically for dropping his hands, standing too tall, or using a repetitive pattern.
That css ended after about two hours and they were released to ‘personal development time’. A helpful suggestion was made that if anyone had a work detail that needed done, this would be a great time to handle it. Based on that advice, Volithur found the cleaning supplies and began to clean the floors of the public spaces in the barracks.
He finished in time for lunch, enjoyed the fresh baked bread, and then went to the conditioning training, where he threw up the contents of his stomach in its entirety. Between the running, the push-ups, the pull-ups, the sit-ups, the weighted carries, and the box jumps, Volithur’s body rebelled. First he could barely catch his breath, then he began to feel numb in his extremities, then the vomit happened. At each turn, the Sergeant or one of the two instructors would be there to scream in his face until he continued on with the exercises.
It truly felt like a form of torture. When it ended, they were made to stand in line and perform breathing exercises. At some point, Volithur fainted and was blessedly allowed to y unconscious until his body restored itself enough for him to function.
He ate dinner, got a shower, and performed his mental cultivation ritual to drift into sleep.
Early the next morning he was brought awake by pain everywhere. There was a dull ache that surrounded his tender nose, but that paled in comparison to a body that felt damaged beyond any hope of ever returning to normal. Even ying motionless hurt. He climbed out of his hammock and –
