“It burns, does it not?” instructor Koh asked.

  Nar grit his teeth and squatted down in tandem with the instructors.

  His legs burned as though hot knives carved through them. They were wobbly, weak and shapeless like jell-o. Every time he lowered his butt into the squat, he feared he would never be able to get back up again. Or even walk properly.

  After hours of basic stance and passing step drills, traversing their assigned red square along cones and lines and different shapes, Nar’s calves and lower back were screaming at him for mercy.

  Crystal… Nar thought, struggling to keep his eyes open.

  “My Crystal!” another apprentice grunted, actually voicing his thoughts.

  “No complaining!” instructor Tob snapped. “Another ten!”

  Nar swallowed a groan and the desire to glare at the idiot who, after all this time, still didn’t understand the simple meaning of “No complaining!”

  One… He counted, lowering his body. His legs shook visibly under him. If they weren’t his, he would’ve probably laughed at the scene. Two…

  “Count out loud!” instructor Mes shouted. “Three! Earn your lunch, apprentices!”

  “Four!” Nar spat through his teeth. “Five!”

  His vision darkened at the edges, his heartbeat punching so hard against his ribcage that he was sure he was about to see a jet of red exploding from his chest.

  “Six!” the instructors shouted.

  “Come on! Seven!” Koh yelled.

  Nar wheezed and panted, tasting metal at the back of his throat.

  “Eight!” he shouted.

  “Nine!”

  “Ten! And stand! No sitting!” instructor Koh shouted at them. “Walk around. Slowly. Breath in. Breath out. Let your body calm down.”

  Nar placed his hands around his waist, and looked up, closing his eyes.

  His breath came out ragged, and his heartbeat muted the sound of the other apprentices gasping around him.

  “Now, keep breathing, but listen up,” their instructor said. “This was rough, and it was only the basic stance and the first step. It will only get rougher from here, especially as we add your wrist-ankle weights to it.”

  Nar gulped.

  Forgot about those… he thought. They hadn’t used them in their second week, but it seemed as though they were making a comeback.

  “I know that for now, you’ll find it hard to find the value in these steps, but slowly, bit by bit, you will see the differences in your fighting,” instructor Koh said. “Mastering the stance and these steps, will enable you to effectively cover ground, advancing or retreating, as the situation demands. It will later flow into more advanced tactics, such as baiting, tricking and feints. You will be able to raise and lower guards to their full potential, open and close the most advantageous lines of attack, probing, testing and maneuvering yourself out of disadvantageous terrain and pushing your enemies themselves into worse terrain.”

  Nar opened his eyes, staring at the distant, blurry lights above his head, and doing his best to understand the words coming through is ears.

  “In time, your steps will morph, becoming half-steps, slight-steps, fake steps, longer and wider steps, changing and adapting to any situation as you seek to maintain or recover the advantage at all times,” the instructor said, his voice coming from far away. “Footwork, positioning and movement. It all starts with these three, and without mastering them, you will never master your swords. Now form up and greet your instructors!”

  Reaction kicked him into movement, and Nar dashed forward to form a line in front of Koh, Mes and Tob with the other eleven apprentices. As one, they bowed down.

  “Thank you for the lesson, instructors!” they shouted.

  The instructors bent their heads in unison.

  “Thank you for your time and attention, apprentices. Dismissed!” Koh said.

  Nar wobbled out of the red square, and onto the green paths, in case someone gave out to him again, and panted and gasped his way out of the hall. It was best that none of the instructors see him show any signs of weakness, lest they drag him back in for further “toughening”.

  He made it to the lift, and swayed before the door, waiting for it to open.

  He inhaled deeply. In and out.

  His mind was filled with a low buzzing, reminiscent of the Pressure, and no coherent thoughts came to him.

  He entered the lift and chose a destination, purely on instinct.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  He stumbled through the dark, brown red corridors, past apprentices and instructors, and finally, reached his destination. An eternity later, he sat at his table with a plate of food. Unlike breakfast, this time, he had piled it high.

  “You too?” Kur asked, from across him. “What in the pile are those movement drills?”

  Nar grunted. Instructors sometimes ate in the canteen with them, and the last thing he wanted to do, was to be overheard complaining by someone from the Blades Hall.

  At his side, Mul stared at his untouched plate of food.

  Under the table, Nar noticed vaguely that the brawler was rubbing his legs. Back and forth, without stopping.

  The bench shook and Gad landed next to Nar with a grunt.

  She took a shaky inhale and exhaled, but said nothing.

  “My Crystal…” Cen said. “How is it worse than before? I thought it was getting better!”

  “Yeah…” Tuk said, looking pale at his party members.

  Nar, Viy, Jul, Gad and Mul swayed in their seats, and not one had touched their food yet.

  “You guys forgot the water…” Kur said, standing up. “Let me go get it!”

  “I-I’ll help you!” Tuk said, following after their party leader.

  “Come on, guys, you should eat something,” Cen said. “You’re just in bad shape from all the drinking yesterday. Tomorrow will be better.”

  Gad stirred at Cen’s words and cleared her throat.

  “Yes…” she said, her voice lower than usual. “Tomorrow… Will be better.”

  “I don’t want tomorrow to be better,” Mul muttered. “Why can’t I just punch things?”

  “Yeah… It worked well so far, no?” Viy asked, leaning her face on her hand.

  Nar blinked slowly, his food coming in and out of focus.

  He knew the instructors were teaching him something of vital and critical importance for his development. He knew, deep within him, mind and body, that one day, those steps would grow to become second nature, and would propel him ahead to the heights of sword mastery that he had craved from the very beginning. He knew it… He knew it…

  But right now, by the Crystal… All he wanted to do was crawl to his bed and curl up into a little ball.

  His heartbeat hurt inside his legs.

  His lower back quivered, threatening to snap.

  His jaw was stiff and sore from how hard and how much he had clenched it to keep himself silent and moving through the instructor’s commands.

  No complaining… A little voice said. No complaining. No complaining. No complaining…

  Nar had sat in front of the Master of Blades as the man spoke of sacrifice and hardship and he gave him his word, his promise, that he would endure through anything. Do anything. Whatever it took to make his hybrid path work. And it would take more than some drills to break him… Whatever worse was still coming his way, he was just going to take it head on.

  With a deep breath, he forced his body to half-turn to their tank.

  “So, I…” he cleared his shaky voice and tried again. “I-I have Tanking Situational Awareness and Decision Making next. Do you also have it?”

  Gad looked up from her food, and slowly turned her face to look at him.

  A slow smile spread over her lips, like the outside slowly brightening after the night, and Nar nearly choked on a sudden well of emotion.

  “You… You have?” she asked him, her words brightening through her tiredness with a genuine, and immense joy. “Really?”

  Nar nodded, also smiling.

  “The Master of Blades says that my path is not through the Tanks Hall, but I need to take this Tanking Situational Awareness and Decision-Making stuff at least.”

  Her smile faltered a little.

  “It’s-It’s okay!” he said. “I understand my path better now. I can do some tanking, but… It’s not like your kind of tanking. If that makes sense.”

  Gad nodded slowly. “It does. It always did. But are you happy with that?”

  Nar smiled and pushed some food around in his overfilled plate.

  “I wasn’t at first, no,” he confessed. “My class came up as DPS/tank, instead of tank/DPS like I wanted. But… Things make sense now. Or, I mean, they’re starting to make more sense. I’ll still tank, but it will be different. More… Personal.”

  He laughed. “Honestly, I have no idea how it’s going to work yet, but I'll trust the master and see where things go for now.”

  Gad considered Nar’s face for a moment, then she turned back to her own food.

  “We call it TSA,” Gad said. “It’s too much of a mouthful.”

  “You even dropped the DM at the end?” Nar asked.

  Kur and Tuk arrived with their cups of water and Nar accepted his with a thankful nod.

  “Too much,” Gad said, through her food. “From what I know, the teacher will talk about different combat scenarios and situations, and will point out all the stuff that we need to be aware of, pay attention to, and consider at all times, as we make decisions to keep the party safe.”

  “Sounds complicated,” Kur said, sitting back down.

  “It’s meant to be,” Gad said, arranging another forkful. “The Master of Tanks said that TSA is the most important theoretical class for all of us tanks, and we’ll be tested on it every week.”

  “Every week?” Nar asked through a mouthful.

  Watching Gad eat had ignited his own hunger, and he was feeling desperate to dig in now.

  “Yes. We are the center of battle, and everything turns around and stands on us tanks,” Gad said, glancing at him. “Whatever your master is planning for you, it seems that you are meant to include that tenet of tanking into your path. Or at least be aware of the flow of battle in order to understand the weight of your actions.”

  “A DPS that can act as a tank, but is not a tank,” Kur mused. “I wonder what that will mean to our strategy of using you as our secondary tank. It worked well for us in the Climb, but here, with new knowledge and new directions to our paths, I wonder how things are going to change for us…”

  “Do you think we need a new strategy?” Tuk asked. Around the table, the others had also started eating, though they were keeping their ears to the conversation.

  “I don’t know yet,” Kur said. “The Master of Leadership said that we shouldn’t worry too much about our party’s strategies before the first assessment. Even the second. Afterwards though… Those of us who have already unlocked their affinities should see quick gains that will push our paths to be in line with our affinities. Even our classes should change at some point soon.”

  “Really?” Viy asked. “That fast?”

  Kur nodded. “Our affinity is the dominant aspect of our souls. It flows through our aura and will command the direction of our paths and class, whether we want it to or not.”

  Nar winced slightly at Kur’s words, anticipating Viy’s answer to that. However, the spear woman simply gave him a firm nod, and returned to her food.

  “For now, let’s just focus on getting through these two weeks, and the assessment at the end,” Kur said. “Once we see what gains and changes we’ve made, we can start planning again. And remember, everyone. Whatever happens, whatever changes come, it will all be fine. The party will adapt. And we’ll come out of it stronger than before.”

  Gad raised her fist in the air.

  “Yes, we will!” she said, her voice stronger now. “Everyone, hang in there! This is our own future we’re making now. So let’s make sure it’s exactly what we want it to be!”

  Nar grinned and raised his fist with the rest of the party.

  Whatever comes. We’ll make it work, he thought.

  And thinking about it, even if it wasn’t his path, he was dying to see what sort of changes Jul, Viy, Kur and Mul would go through.

  I wonder if his fists are going to light on fire… he thought glancing at the brawler, who quickly returned to scarfing down his food as though his life depended on it.

  Only the future would tell. The future, and their hard work. And Nar wasn’t going to disappoint anyone. Not them. Not his masters. And certainly not himself.