Chapter 14: The First Combat Trial
Ghareeb awoke to warm sunlight filtering through the wooden window.
"This is the first time I've slept without nightmares... or those strange memories," he whispered to himself.
He turned to his sword and asked,
"Sword... what do we do today?"
The blade replied in its dry, grating voice:
"Did you forget our conversation last night?
Are you tossing your memories into the trash?
Today's your training with the mercenary squad.
Get dressed and go.
Don't rely on me alone—yes, I can help in critical moments,
but you're the one who must fight."
Ghareeb stepped into the small yard outside his room.
He ate a simple breakfast of fruit and hot soup, then quickly headed to the training grounds.
There, he saw Commander Kain standing at the center of a group of recruits.
Kain spotted him and shouted,
"You! Ghareeb! Hurry up! No delays today. Everyone—start running!"
The group launched into a long-distance run.
Ghareeb was among them, not the weakest—thanks to the flesh he had consumed, his strength and endurance now far exceeded what he once thought possible.
After more than three hours of relentless running, Kain ordered them to halt, then handed out wooden swords.
"Now," he declared, "we begin your sword training—and a few other techniques."
The recruits began swinging their wooden blades.
Ghareeb wasn't completely unfamiliar with the weapon—fragments of past memories hinted at sword use—but he needed refinement.
He needed control.
---
Two weeks passed in uninterrupted training.
Then came the awaited moment: the first combat trial.
The first match featured two fighters:
Ravin—average build, sharp eyes.
Dranos—a towering giant nearly two meters tall, his body like a walking mountain.
Both raised their blades.
Dranos charged like a boulder crashing downhill, shaking the ground beneath his feet.
He collided with Ravin—steel clashing against steel, sparks bursting into the air, and a thick cloud of dust rising from the impact.
They pulled back after the first strike.
Suddenly, Ravin scratched his own arm—dark, dragon-like scales appeared.
A short blade grew from his wrist.
He raised his arm and unleashed a surge of boiling water toward Dranos.
But Dranos wasn't easy prey.
Stone-like armor erupted across his skin, blocking the scalding jet, though the steam left clear burns on his exposed flesh.
Then—Ravin vanished.
Dranos looked around in confusion.
But from a single droplet of water left on the ground, Ravin emerged like a specter—
and drove his blade into Dranos's face.
Kain shouted:
"Winner—Ravin!"
Ghareeb was stunned.
Then it was his turn—his opponent: Zark, one of the outlaw volunteers.
Zark carried a poisoned dagger and wore a black cloth over his mouth.
Before Kain could even start the match, Zark lunged, aiming to slice off Ghareeb's hand before he could draw his weapon.
But Ghareeb reacted quickly.
He leapt back, drew his gleaming black sword, and dashed forward like a flash of lightning.
With one clean strike, he severed Zark's left arm, standing firm in the arena as blood dripped from his blade.
But Zark didn't fall.
From the stump... a black, slimy arm began to grow.
"He's turning into a mutant!" shouted one of the soldiers.