Chapter 10: The Trials Begin

  That evening, as Arkin and Kwinn sat in the dimly lit cafeteria, the scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. The long wooden tables were packed with recruits, all murmuring about the grueling training that awaited them at dawn.

  Arkin took a bite of his bread, his mind restless. "I wonder what kind of training they'll put us through," he mused.

  Kwinn chuckled, stabbing a piece of meat with his dagger. "If the captain’s words are anything to go by, it won’t be a walk in the market square. I’ve heard stories—days without proper rest, endless drills, and duels that leave you bruised for weeks."

  Arkin leaned in, lowering his voice. "I don’t mind the hardships, but I need to become strong—strong enough to uncover what really happened to my brother."

  Kwinn nodded, his usual playful expression momentarily replaced by seriousness. "Then we both better survive whatever tomorrow brings."

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  As the torches flickered against the stone walls, the recruits ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Outside, the wind howled through the training grounds, a quiet omen of the trials that awaited them at sunrise.

  The cold morning breeze swept through the training grounds as the recruits were jolted awake by the thunderous voice of Captain Reinhardt.

  "Wake up! Get up, all of you!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the barracks.

  The recruits scrambled out of their beds, some still half-asleep, their movements sluggish. A few even kept their eyes shut as they hurried to stand.

  "We will begin the day with a jog. You have thirty seconds to get dressed and be outside," Captain Reinhardt commanded.

  "Oh, come on! That’s way too fast," Kwinn grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  As the captain began his countdown, chaos erupted in the barracks. Recruits tripped over each other, frantically pulling on their tunics and boots. Some barely managed to fasten their belts as they stumbled toward the door.

  When the count reached zero, most stood at attention, breathless but ready—except for three recruits who were still fumbling with their gear.

  "Too slow!" Reinhardt barked. "Step forward!"

  The three men hesitated, their faces pale with fear, before dragging themselves to the front.

  "For your sluggishness, you will perform twenty push-ups for five sets," the captain ordered.

  The three recruits dropped to the ground, groaning as they began their punishment. The rest of the group swallowed nervously, realizing that hesitation or weakness would not be tolerated in this place.

  "Let this be a lesson to you all," Reinhardt said, his sharp gaze sweeping over them. "Now—move!"

  And so, the recruits sprinted into the cold morning

  air, their training truly beginning.