Chương 180: AWC/S

After another morning spent tending to Burr, and another meal of infused food for breakfast, I met with our training group in the green space between the inner wall and the outer wall. Lieutenant Owl paced in front of the fifteen of us.

"With the situation on the northern front deteriorating, and another wave of attacks expected in the South any week, we are pushing up the training schedule for all candidates. As of this moment, you have completed your one-year WPS/S physical standard." This world may have had different words and a different language, but my mind also understood the lettering system and the acronyms they used.

(WPS/S stood for Warfare Preparatory School/SAP—an acronym within an acronym, as if the organization systems couldn't get more complicated.) Our squads fell silent. Although the druids weren't here, there were five groups of three Dupes, and we were generally the top of the program.

"For you," Owl continued, "you were already exceeding the standards. This will likely benefit your squads, because we won't be holding you back as the others catch up. You are ready to begin the next phase and push yourselves harder. However, it tends to weaken the foundation of the other squads. As of today, you are beginning AWC/S—Advanced Warfare Conditioning." The /S, I assumed, still indicated that this was specifically for sappers.

"Phase one is continued physical conditioning," Owl said.

"Your exercises will steadily increase over the coming weeks, with longer runs and heavier riftrocks. This, of course, you are used to. It will last for eight weeks. Labyrinth runs will stay constant and steady. The eighth week will be known as Vaelheall Week—you will live as though you are fighting through eternal combat in the afterlife storms of Welkinmere. Twenty hours a day of strenuous training, sparring physical tests, and obstacle courses.

You will take meals when you can, and you will only sleep up to four hours a day.

"Phase two will include teamwork and combat planning. Some of you already have experience with this. Although physical conditioning will not be as rigorous as Vaelheall Week, you will be required to fight as a squad against other squads and simulated threats in a pitched battle situation—rather than the cities of the Labyrinth. Here, you will also be subjected to numerous exercises intended to increase your Perception and Focus.

For most of you, these are your weakest attributes, so prepare for an alarming wake-up call.

"Phase three will involve heavy combat training. Your performance has been admirable thus far, and we have received word that a few special instructors have taken interest in you. They wish to assist in training your squads, but I will not elaborate until they arrive. Suffice it to say that if you survive until phase three, you will find it incredibly rewarding.

"Lastly, Phase Four will include aquatic operations training at Steelshore's naval facility. It is a tradition of sappers, but it will improve your teamwork, and it is not unheard of for the orcs and their allies to attempt naval attacks, so you must be ready.

"We are hoping not to send anyone on missions during any of these phases, though there are exceptions. This will last for the next ten months of your training. The last two months, you will have free reign to loot the lower level of the Labyrinth and claim as many resources as you can gather. Am I understood?"

"Yes, lieutenant!" we shouted.

"Then let's begin." ~ ~ ~ I didn't think physical conditioning could get much worse than the first time I'd experienced riftrocks, but once again, I was wrong. One of the reasons the sappers had chosen Castle Urcia as a training ground was due to the nearby hills. Winds swept down from the mountains in the late summer and rushed across the plains, where the evolved fangrass fescue whipped it into a frenzy. Fangrass was my new enemy.

Although I'd never seen it, and still couldn't, it was a hoarder of wind-aspect maegen. It glutted itself on the wind, then spun and whipped the air into an arcane frenzy, only to release it at this exact time of year, creating massive gusts on the ridges. The original timing of the first year training program was intended to get us used to running into the high winds at the end of the first year, and then when phase one of AWC/S began, we would at least know what to expect.

By the time phase two rolled around, it would be autumn, and the winds would stop. Well, lucky for us, we had no idea what to expect, and that meant phase two was going to contain just as much wind. But as usual, I was thinking too far in advance. I forced myself to focus on the present. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. We stood on a ridge, about a half-hour's jog from Castle Urcia. Ahead, nothing but fields of golden grass stood.

A rancher led his cattle across the field, keeping low to dodge the high winds. He, being a relatively fit mortal man, was only able to take a single step every minute or so. This was his only job for the day, and he was moving sideways with the wind. There was only one distant house, with its shingled roof sloped into the wind.

"You must run a mile in this wind, with your backpack full of riftrocks!" Owl shouted, raising his voice over the rushing air.

"You are expected to continuously meet this standard, or you will be removed from the program!" I hoped that anyone who made it this far would be capable, but you never knew. Better to remove those who weren't capable before it was too late.

"Even our resident thegn will have some trouble with these activities, I'm afraid." I ignored the last comment. If it wasn't difficult, I wasn't doing it right. At least, that was what I told myself now. It was easy to change your mind later after training actually began. Most of the druids, though, were in for a rude awakening. Their individual training hadn't been nearly as strenuous as ours, but they needed to complete AWC/S if they wanted to continue to be sappers, as well.

I lined up next to Brawl, Anchor, and Sage and Morph. Morph stood in his full, upright form, though he hunched forward. Whenever an especially strong gust roared past, it pulled off a twig or a leaf.

"Can you handle this?" I shouted to Sage.

"I am expending Presence just to keep Morph standing!" she replied.

"Do not expect any healing from me later today!" Owl whistled with his fingers, and our training group set off, sprinting into the wind, heads down. I started off faster than I could maintain. As soon as I'd made it fifty paces, my pace wasn't sustainable. Already, my lungs stung, my back ached, and the riftrocks felt twice as heavy as they used to. Acid built in my chest. There was no choice but to keep moving. Besides, I'd enhanced my body. I was a Silver, compared to Titaniums.

This training was designed for Titaniums. I couldn't let myself be overwhelmed. But then again, almost a third of my attributes were non-physical. Focus and Perception. The others here were likely far closer to me in physical stats than they looked. For example, I knew for sure that Brawl's Vitality and Strength were in the sixties, where mine were in the seventies—even after my reforging and advancement to Silver. It just meant that I could still benefit from this training as much as anyone else could.

I'd keep increasing my attributes at the same rate as them, while maintaining higher non-physical attributes. Besides, if things got too easy, I always had my Arts to force an extra challenge upon myself— What was I thinking? As if I needed an extra challenge. The wind caught in the folds of my tunic, drying the sweat immediately. They acted as a sail, holding me back as I tried to push forward. Every step took all my effort. The riftrocks in my kit bag and backpack tried to pull me down.

I lowered my head, then glanced back, checking up on my squad. While this was an individual exercise, I didn't want to leave them too far behind. Brawl was close behind me. Although he left a bigger surface area to catch the wind, and his face was beet-red from exertion, he was physically stronger than most Dupes at his tier. Morph and Sage were a few paces behind him. Morph, being even larger and less aerodynamic, struggled even more, and Sage looked like she was about to fall asleep.

The tips of Morph's limbs were turning brown and drying, but he kept pushing. Anchor was last. He had slowed to a half-run half-walk, and he was breathing hard with each step. He glanced back at the castle, face full of regret. I couldn't help him directly, but I could encourage him. I yelled, "Come on, Anchor! Remember why you're here!"

"I can't see anything…" he gasped.

"Just push!"

"I don't remember!"

"When you first met me, you told me you wanted to be the best archer!" I yelled.

"You're still here! You made it this far! It's too late to turn back now!" ~ ~ ~ It felt like our jog took all day, but judging by the movement of the sun, it only took an hour. When we arrived at the one mile marker, we all fell onto our backs, falling flat against the ground to get out of the wind. Owl knelt over us at the last stragglers arrived.

"And to think this isn't even Vaelheall Week. Now you know what you're up against…" I glanced over at Anchor. He stared blankly up at the blue sky, sun beating down his face. He didn't even shield his eyes from it, and his chest heaved uncontrollably.

"Hey," I hissed.

"You made it."

"I did…" he gasped.

"Mighty cruel of them to put an archer through this."

"And you'll be better for it when you get out of here."

"If I get out." Anchor shook his head.

"I don't know how you do it. You have your push, your drive. You've had a life before being a Dupe and you can explain why you fight." I sighed.

"You fought for Gate for a reason, didn't you? Something got you through basic training, and something got you out here. What made you push to become a sapper in the first place?"

"At homecamp, and with my regular detachment, I looked at it with a square mind," he whispered.

"I searched through every manuscript I could find, and I talked to every traveller I met. I tried to figure out if it was truly worth fighting for Gate. And when I determined that what we have, and what we stood for, was worth protecting, I decided to keep fighting harder. It's cold, but that was all I had to keep moving." I nodded.

"We'll find you something to keep you moving, then, and you'll get through this. I promise."