One month.
For a whole month, everything was quiet. The secret war had gone still, and the silence was almost too much to bear.
The team resumed their routine. They had to train in the morning and the training was brutal.
CLANG!
Jonah stumbled back, his arm got numb from the force of the blow. Draven stood over him in the training simulator, his practice sword on his shoulder. He wasn't even breathing hard.
"Too slow," Draven grunted. "You're overthinking this situation, expecting an attack from the front. A real enemy won't be so nice."
"I'm not a front-line fighter," Jonah said softly.
"Doesn't matter," Draven said, his face turning serious. "In a real fight, everyone is on the front line."
The last month had changed Draven. He really wanted to make them all strong enough to survive the next time they faced a collapsing mountain.
