The sun barely peeked over the horizon as my boots hit the training field. Morning dew clung to the grass like tears to my cheeks in those early days. Now, after months under Valdor's tutelage, I no longer wept. My hands—calloused and scarred—clenched firmly around the wooden hilt.
I remembered last week's forest incursion. How my body had reacted to that putrid beast. How adrenaline had clouded my mind, leaving only pure instinct. Was that what it meant to be a warrior? To become a bloodthirsty killer?
The familiar clatter of stones snapped me from my thoughts. Valdor approached, his heavy steps making the earth tremble. But today… something was different. A second set of footsteps, lighter yet equally lethal, accompanied his.
I turned on my heel, and the world seemed to freeze.
Jannes.
The elite warrior loomed like a colossus, his elongated shadow devouring mine. His crossed arms accentuated every muscle beneath skin weathered by a thousand battles.
—Well, well, little shit —Jannes said, flashing a grin.
—Wh-why are you here? —I managed, my throat tightening.
Valdor appeared behind him, greeting me casually. I instinctively bumped his palm with my fist, the dry sound cutting the air like an axe.
—Jannes is here to test your progress —he said, his gaze hardening—. You'll fight him.
My knees nearly buckled. Jannes wasn't an opponent; he was an unstoppable force. I watched his chest rise with each calm breath, his long fingers flexing unconsciously, hungry for combat.
—Don't cry, little girl —Jannes murmured, leaning down until his hot breath hit my face—. I'll be gentle.
Cold sweat traced my spine. My arms trembled—not just from fear.
—Don't worry —I forced a smirk, knowing it would infuriate him—. The only one crying will be you, redhead.
The vein in his neck bulged like an enraged serpent. His lips twisted between disgust and… respect?
—You're a real warrior now —he whispered, lowering his head until his forehead nearly touched mine. His scent of iron and leather invaded my senses—. Hope you enjoy being just a weapon.
Before I could ask what he meant, Jannes turned to Valdor.
—Only rule —he said, locking eyes with my mentor— is you don't interfere.
Valdor nodded slowly.
Then he tossed a wooden sword to Jannes. He caught it mid-air with a sharp snap, but his nose wrinkled as he examined the weapon. He spun it between his fingers with disdain, as if it were a child's toy.
—Valdor, I don't fight with sticks —he said, throwing the wooden sword aside. From his waist, he drew his own blade. Sunlight glinted off its immaculate edge—. If we fight, we do it right. —His eyes challenged me—. If you trained your pet well, he won't die. At least not like the last one.
Tension thickened the air. The wooden sword in my grip grew slick with sweat. Jannes' cold, ruthless stare dissected me as if he'd already predicted every move. I swallowed, the motion burning my throat.
—Jannes, this is dangerous —Valdor warned, his calm tone fraying at the edges.
Jannes never took his eyes off me. His lips curled into a mocking smile. —Fine —he said, driving his sword into the ground—. I'll use my hands instead of sticks.
Valdor exhaled, resigned. Trapped, my stomach knotted. Jannes wasn't just any opponent—he was elite, a survivor of impossible battles. But I couldn't back down. Not after all my training.
Jannes' titanic frame blocked the sun, his shadow consuming me. —Trash —he growled, his voice vibrating in the air—. Don't think fighting together makes us friends. —He stepped closer, his presence a physical weight. When his hand landed on my shoulder, fear and focus warred within me—. But don't think fighting makes us enemies either.
His words echoed in my skull. Harsh, cutting… yet was there something else? A flicker of respect beneath the venom? No time to dwell. Jannes dropped into stance, hands curved like claws.
This time… he'd let me strike first.
I gripped the wooden hilt until splinters bit my palm. Pain sharpened my focus. A deep breath steadied my racing heart. I'd seen Jannes dismantle beasts with supernatural speed. But I'd also noticed his flaw: when his plans failed, he struggled to adapt mid-fight.
That's my opening.
I lunged, aiming for his right eye. As expected, his arm rose to block, his left hand priming a counter. But this time… he was slower. Maybe he hadn't warmed up. Maybe he held back.
There!
I ducked under his guard, pivoting to drive my sword into his ribs. The impact shuddered up my arms.
—Ha! —I spat before I could stop myself.
Jannes stepped back. He touched his side, inspecting his fingers as if expecting blood. When he looked up, his expression froze me solid.
—What the hell… —he muttered, but his lips twisted into something almost like a smile—. Valdor, your trash can fight.
He reset his stance, inviting me to strike again. Same opening, same unprotected left side. Do warriors never learn? I wondered. Despite my suspicion, pride urged me to repeat the sequence.
Eye strike. Dodge. Counter.
I reveled in my imagined superiority. What's wrong, Jannes? Elite warriors can't—
Mistake.
Pain exploded. His knee buried itself in my gut, emptying my lungs. I tried to leap back, but an elbow between my shoulders folded me like a ragdoll. The final punch lifted me off my feet. Copper flooded my mouth.
—That's all —Jannes said, staring down at me like a crushed insect.
I watched his boots turn away. Something inside me roared.
—Wait! —I spat blood, pushing up on shaking elbows—. If I hit you once, I can do it again!
Jannes paused. He turned with a calm that terrified me more than his rage.
—That was luck, trash. You'll never touch me if I try.
—Then try! —I snarled, rising despite my trembling legs and split lip—. If I win, the only shit here will be you!
The silence that followed was worse than any insult.
Something shifted in Jannes. Not physically—deeper. As if he were truly seeing me for the first time.
His eyes… those damned brown eyes glowed, recognizing the fire in mine. I'd seen it in the forest.
—Jannes, enough— Valdor tried to intervene, but Jannes' fury drowned reason.
—Shut up, Valdor —Jannes grinned—. Besides, I don't think your weapon wants to stop.
Valdor fell silent. Whenever I fought like this, he looked at me differently—like I wore a face that wasn't mine.
By the time I refocused, Jannes was already in stance. But this time, I beckoned him forward.
My arrogance cost me. He closed the distance in a blink.
—Listen well, maggot —his voice was gravel—. No matter how much a body trains, it'll never surpass kio.
The words reverberated in my skull. Then came the pain.
Jannes showed me what elite truly meant. His fist crashed into my skull, the impact deafening. My arms gave out, the wooden sword clattering to the ground. He caught it effortlessly and struck. The crack of my ribs echoed through my body.
I hit the dirt with a hollow thud.
Jannes leaned over me. His breath scorched my skin one last time.
—Not bad —he whispered, and this time, no mockery laced his words—only something worse: approval—. But you're still trash.
As he walked away, leaving me in a pool of my own blood, I understood my place. In this world, I was still just garbage.