The clang of steel echoed in the training yard.
Damian stood at the edge of the practice grounds, watching a group of men and women swing spears with uneven rhythm. They were farmers, hunters, tradesmen—now turned into would-be soldiers. Their stances were sloppy, their arms shaky, but their eyes carried fire.
Selena crossed her arms beside him. "They're green, but they're eager. That's a start."
Damian exhaled. "Eagerness doesn't stop claws and fangs."
Damian muttered under his breath, "Three months… we might not have that long."
The First Drill
He stepped forward, voice sharp.
"Spears up! Hold your line—your shield is your brother's wall. You break formation, you die. Simple as that."
The recruits straightened, gripping their weapons tighter. Damian picked up a practice spear, spun it once in his hand, and slammed the butt into the dirt.
"You don't have to be fast. You don't have to be strong. You just have to hold. If you hold the line, I'll take care of the rest."
The men and women shouted in unison: "Yes, Lord Arkwright!"
Selena smirked. "They already listen to you like trained dogs."
"Dogs don't hold spears," Damian said, then turned back to the line. "Again!"
Sparring with Selena
Later, as the recruits collapsed in exhaustion, Selena drew her blade and tossed another wooden sword toward Damian.
"Your turn. If you expect them to fight, you'd better show them what fighting looks like."
Damian caught it. His black undershirt stretched across his shoulders as he rolled his neck, smirking. "Don't hold back."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They clashed in the center of the yard, wood cracking against wood. Selena moved like water, precise and elegant. Damian countered with brute force and sharp instincts.
The recruits watched in awe, whispering. For them, this was a glimpse of what real combat looked like.
At the end, Selena's blade pressed lightly against his throat, but Damian grinned. "If that had been my spear, you'd be on the ground."
Selena tilted her head, amused. "And if it had been my real sword, you'd be bleeding. Call it even?"
"Fine. Even."
An Easter Egg
That night, Damian walked through the campfires where the recruits rested. Some played dice games, others sang. But near one fire, a boy held a small wooden toy—an oddly shaped soldier carved with a helmet.
Damian froze. That helmet… it looked like something from his own world. Modern. Too modern.
The boy noticed his stare. "Oh, this? My grandpa carved it. Said he saw it once, in a dream."
Damian forced a smile, but the AI whispered coldly:
Damian's chest tightened. How could they know that here?
The Cliffhanger
As he returned to his quarters, Selena caught up with him.
"Tomorrow," she said softly, "we'll push them harder. They'll need it."
Damian nodded, but his mind wasn't on the recruits.
Because at that very moment, at the northern border of Asterion, a lone figure in black armor stood upon a hill. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the night.
"Found you," the figure whispered.
And then, he vanished into the shadows.