Practice

The day after the uneventful night watch dawned with a sense of quiet routine. Arko found himself in the courtyard of the barracks, the early morning sunlight casting long shadows on the training grounds. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused on the technique he had discovered within the ancient book.

With the triangle-shaped mark on the back of his hand as a guide, Arko manipulated his aura pathways, following the intricate patterns he had seen in his mind. As he did so, he felt a surge of energy coursing through his body, a sensation akin to hot fire being stoked. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he continued to refine his control over this newfound power.

Hours passed in a blur as Arko practiced tirelessly, his determination unyielding. With each attempt, he felt himself inch closer to mastering the technique. His movements grew smoother, his aura manipulation more precise. Yet, as the morning sun climbed higher, he knew he had only scratched the surface of what this ancient manual could offer.

As the sun reached its zenith, Arko paused, his breaths heavy and his body tingling from the exertion. He wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced around the courtyard, noticing his fellow soldiers engaging in their own training regimens. Some sparred with wooden weapons, while others practiced archery or honed their aura techniques.

Nearby, Milo was engaged in a rigorous bout of sparring with another soldier. Arko could see the determination in his friend's eyes as he deftly parried and countered his opponent's attacks. With a sense of camaraderie, Arko watched Milo's fluid movements, recognizing the unwavering dedication they both shared.

Just then, the distant sound of raised voices caught their attention. Turning their heads, Arko and Milo exchanged curious glances as they listened to the escalating altercation. It seemed to be coming from the entrance of the barracks.

"...Know your place, commoner! Do you dare question my authority?" A haughty voice laced with disdain rang out.

Arko and Milo exchanged a knowing look before making their way toward the source of the disturbance. As they arrived at the entrance, they saw a nobleman, dressed in finely tailored attire, standing with an air of entitlement. Before him stood a commoner, his fists clenched in frustration but his expression defiant.

The nobleman's gaze fell upon the commoner with a sneer. "I could have you whipped for insolence."

The commoner's voice shook with anger as he retorted, "I'm tired of your kind treating us as if we're less than dirt. We fight and bleed just like any of your noble soldiers!"

Arko's jaw tightened as he witnessed the unequal confrontation. Though he wasn't one to meddle in such affairs, he couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for the commoner's plight.

Milo's hand landed on Arko's shoulder, a subtle but meaningful gesture. They exchanged a determined look, a silent understanding passing between them.

Stepping forward, Arko spoke with a calm but unwavering tone. "Excuse me, sir. It seems there's a misunderstanding here. We're all here to serve and protect the city, regardless of our origins."

The nobleman's eyes narrowed as he regarded Arko. "And who might you be to speak to me in such a manner?"

"Soldiers of the 21st company, sir," Milo added, his voice holding a note of respect but not submission.

For a moment, the nobleman seemed taken aback by their audacity. But then his lips curled into a condescending smile. "Very well, soldiers. Know your place and stay out of matters that don't concern you."

As the nobleman turned to leave, the commoner's gaze met Arko's, gratitude and determination shining in his eyes. Arko nodded subtly, acknowledging the silent alliance they had formed in that brief moment.

As the day continued, Arko and Milo returned to their training with renewed purpose. The altercation they had witnessed served as a reminder of the injustices that lingered within the city, even amidst the shared purpose of protecting it. With the ancient manual's teachings guiding him, Arko channeled his aura, focusing on the intricate pathways he had learned.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the city, Arko felt a new level of connection with his aura. The triangular mark on his hand seemed to pulse with energy, a testament to the ancient knowledge he had unlocked.

Exhausted but satisfied, Arko made his way back to his bunk, his thoughts swirling with the revelations of the day. As he settled onto his bed, sleep quickly claimed him, and he drifted into a dreamless slumber, ready to face whatever challenges the next day might bring.

The morning sun's gentle rays streamed through the barracks' windows, signaling the start of a new day. Arko awoke refreshed, his body feeling invigorated from the previous day's training. He rose from his bunk, stretching his limbs and flexing his fingers, the triangular mark on his hand tingling faintly as if echoing the power he had harnessed.

Outside, the barracks buzzed with activity as soldiers prepared for their daily routines. Arko joined Milo and Alena, grabbing a quick breakfast before gathering with the rest of their company in the courtyard. The soldiers exchanged nods and brief words, their camaraderie evident despite the differences in their backgrounds.

As the soldiers assembled, the captain's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. "Listen up, 21st company. Today we'll be participating in drills to reinforce your training. We need to ensure you're ready for whatever the orc threat brings our way."

The company members nodded in unison, their expressions serious but determined. Arko felt a renewed sense of purpose as he prepared for the day's training. The memory of the nobleman's arrogance and the commoner's courage spurred him on, reminding him of the larger picture beyond the barracks' walls.

The drills were intense and demanding, pushing the soldiers to their limits. Arko's newly acquired aura technique proved invaluable, enhancing his speed and precision. He moved through the exercises with a heightened awareness of his aura's flow, feeling the connection between his body and the energy he now wielded.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Arko found himself partnered with Milo for sparring practice. The clash of wooden swords filled the air as they exchanged blows, their movements fluid and calculated. Their unspoken communication allowed them to anticipate each other's actions, creating a seamless rhythm.

During a brief break, Milo wiped sweat from his brow and grinned at Arko. "Wow, did you have a breakthrough in your aura level ? your strength has improved tremendously ."

Arko nodded, his own smile tinged with satisfaction. "It's like a whole new level of control. i broke through to consolidation stage yesterday."

Their camaraderie was interrupted by the sound of raised voices nearby. Turning their attention, Arko and Milo exchanged curious glances as they overheard another altercation. This time, it was a heated exchange between a captain and a nobleman.

"I don't care about your noble blood. If you can't prove your worth on the battlefield, you're no better than any other soldier," the captain snapped.

The nobleman's face turned red with anger. "You insolent fool! My family's influence—"

"—Means nothing if you can't wield a sword effectively," the captain interjected.

Arko and Milo exchanged knowing looks, their earlier encounter fresh in their minds. It seemed that even within the ranks of the city's defenders, the divide between nobles and commoners persisted.

As the training continued, Arko and his companions pushed themselves to their limits. The drills were grueling, but they served a greater purpose: to forge a cohesive unit capable of facing the orc threat head-on. Each swing of a sword, each controlled burst of aura, brought them closer to that goal.