By evening, silence settled over the training camp.
A fire burned at the center of the small yard, smoke rising into the cold air. The recruits sat around it in groups—some speaking in low voices, others simply tending to their wounds in silence.
Kaizlan sat beside Torn and Milo.
Torn laughed in his rough, deep voice despite his exhaustion, slapping his chest with his palm.
"Did you see how I dropped that opponent? I nearly flattened him with a single blow!"
Kaizlan smiled faintly, while Milo kept his gaze fixed on the dirt, his hand trembling slightly as he held a piece of bread.
In a low voice, Milo murmured:
"I nearly ruined the line… If Torn hadn't helped me, one of us might have been hurt because of me."
Torn clapped his shoulder so hard the boy winced.
"You're weak… yes. But you didn't run. That's enough."
Kaizlan studied him quietly. In Milo's eyes he saw a mix of fear and shame—something he knew could devour a person if they found no reason to keep moving forward.
⸻
Across the yard, Serin Orvan sat alone, fixing her braid as she watched the fire in silence. No group approached her, as if her calmness itself set her apart.
Eiron Levara lay sprawled on his back not far away, arms folded behind his head, eyes fixed on the sky with indifference.
Hearing their talk, he spoke in a mocking tone:
"All this talk of ranks and walls… in the end, every man faces his death alone. No shield, no shoulder will remain beside you when everything collapses."
Torn glared at him in anger.
"If you'd stayed in the line like a man, we wouldn't have faltered. You're the reason we were weak!"
Eiron chuckled lightly, his gaze never leaving the sky.
"I'm the reason we won quickly. But I suppose you all prefer a long fight."
A short silence followed.
Kaizlan felt a tightness in his chest; he didn't want to believe Eiron's words… but he couldn't deny that his method had been effective.
⸻
Before the conversations could stretch longer, Commander Raun's voice rang from afar:
"Sleep early. Tomorrow will not be easier."
The recruits dispersed slowly—some weighed down by their wounds, others smiling at small victories.
Kaizlan lingered by the fire a moment longer, watching the sparks scatter into the dark.
"Will I be a shield for others… or will I choose to become a wolf like Eiron?"
It was a question without an answer, but it stayed with him through the night.