Clamors of cymbals and sticks echoed in the halls of the dorms.
"Get your asses off your bunks!"
The echo of older soldiers screaming followed.
"Wake up!"
Soon, the noise arrived in Alan's room.
"Holy Shit! What the fuck are you six doing asleep!?"
The familiar voice of the sergeant thundered into the room.
The clapping of metal startled a few.
The sergeant, noticing Alan still asleep, brought himself next to his ear.
Winding his breath, veins began to bulge along his neck.
"WAKE UP, PRIVATE."
His voice, amplified by internal energy, visibly vibrated Alan.
"Ah!"
Alan's eyes shook.
He snapped up, shifting himself beside his cot.
The sergeant eyed the bunk's cleanliness, noticing his improved discipline.
"Good."
Everyone was standing tall above their cots now, each person's eyes still glassy from sleep.
"Breakfast is at 7." The sergeant began, "Since it's now 7:30, I hope you enjoy whatever's left by the time you arrive."
The gazes of a few steeled, they would get breakfast even if it was with force.
Alan was indifferent.
If worst comes to worst, I'll just go to the ramen stand and beg.
As the sergeant left, the scramble of boots being laced overtook the silence.
"Ah," A young man with pearly white hair ruffled his belongings furiously. "Has anyone seen my boot, looks like this one but left." He began waving a boot in the air.
Soon after, a streak of black and red flew across the room at his face. He quickly reacted, catching the boot mid-air.
The culprit, a red-haired boy with pointy teeth, grinned at him. "Hurry up."
"Thanks."
The next boy seemed to be moving in slow motion. Like Alan, he didn't seem like a morning person.
His eyes were pitch black, contrasting with his blonde hair.
"Ah, you know what. I'd rather sleep than eat breakfast right now." His tone drooped as he plopped back on his cot.
"Come on, don't be like that," another boy spoke up. "If we don't make it to the Cafeteria with everyone, we're gonna get beaten up for our food."
The young man's golden eyes seemed to constantly pacify the energy around him. The longer you stayed around him, the better you felt.
Bryce was quietly getting ready, his fists were clenching and unclenching repeatedly.
It seems like that fish helped him a little.
Alan swiped his overgrown hair to the side, sweeping the room one last time as he finished swapping his clothes.
Once everyone was ready, they broke into a sprint toward the mess hall.
[Ding!]
Alan glanced down at where the system panel appeared.
[Yay Host! You have received your first point!]
Alan quickly glanced at his point section in the system.
-Points: 3-
Huh?
[Received points for influencing Drill Sergeant Kahn]
[+1 pt]
What did I influence?
[Host made him think he was a good influence after your beating yesterday, you washed and cleaned your belongings]
…
This system… It is way more confusing than I thought.
He pushed these thoughts into the back of his mind as he arrived at the mess hall with his group.
"Ah, you must be one of Drill Sergeant Kahn's recon squads." An older voice called out to the group, each member turning to face the voice.
"Welcome to the defense force, recruits. I'll be in charge of your daily dieting and meals."
Soon, a shutter lifted, revealing 6 plates of food.
The plates had a stack of oatmeal, some weird fruits, and a protein bar.
"This will be the standard for the week," The old man continued. "Please enjoy."
…
Each member looked at the others and laughed.
At least team bonding seemed to be going well.
Each member grabbed a plate and sat down at one of the tables near the back of the room.
"So," the redhead started first. "What's a Ducal Prince doing at a war camp?"
The silence that had just been broken returned, the white-haired kid nervously eyeing around him as if trying to find an escape.
"Hahaha," The laughter of the calm-eyed one drew everyone's attention. "My father said I didn't stand out, so I thought it was fine."
His glance drifted to the red-haired boy, shifting from a calm gold to a cold blue. "How did you know?"
"It was just a guess," the redhead boy answered nervously. "My father worked for Duke Ain for a long time as a mechsmith."
Slowly, the boy's eyes shifted back from the cold blue to a calm gold again.
"I see," The boy resumed eating his fruit as if nothing happened. "Call Me Peter, by the way."
"How can I-" The redhead was cut off by a sweeping chill on his spine.
"I-I mean, of course."
What is this cast of characters here?
A Duke's son.
A wimpy kid blessed by the white.
A son of a mechsmith.
A sigh echoed across the table as the droopy kid's eyes lingered on where the dorm was.
And a sleep-obsessed one.
Alan slowly picked apart the oatmeal until there was a minimal amount left.
Apply Instinct Talent.
Soon, a familiar feeling enveloped Alan as he rifted into the void.
In front of him stood a giant beast, its limbs draped across the surface of the liquid above him.
He felt complete and overwhelming dread when staring at this beast.
An eye rolled across the fur skin of the thousand-limbed beast, locking eyes with Alan as he peered into the depths of his soul.
Thump.
Pulled back by the sound of his heartbeat, he quickly fought the feeling of dread, trying to swim away to no avail.
Thump.
His heart grew louder in his mind.
Thump.
Soon, the only feeling left was his heart.
The more he focused on it, the more it soothed his nerves.
Thump.
The beast above him closed its eye, signaling its retreat.
[Congratulations Host on unlocking Danger Sense!]
The cheers fell on deaf ears as Alan was too preoccupied with running away from the beast.
-Alan Bone-
-Bloodline: ???-
-Mindset: Shock-
-Power: Slightly above average Foot Soldier-
-Points: 3-
Soon, Alan was pulled back to the table.
Cold sweat coiled on his skin.
What the fuck…
Bryce, noticing the sweat, began to notice the peculiarities around his best friend.
Ever since yesterday, he's been acting like a completely different person.
As if on cue with his thoughts, Alan stood from the table.
Each member of the group glanced at the others once more and followed suit.
Bryce had a complicated look.
He had been feeling extremely well since yesterday, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest.
But the contrast between him and his friend was stark.
"I'm going to the sword yard." Alan's voice pulled Bryce out of his thoughts, bewilderment lining what used to be conflict.
A sword yard?
"How about a little team bonding session?" Peter carried the conversation forward, prompting the others to chime in.
"If we're going to the sword yard for team building, does that mean sparring?" The white-haired boy asked, quivering in the back.
The redhead shot the boy a glance, ignoring his statement entirely. "I want to duel against him."
His finger lined up directly with Bryce.
"Let's do this," Peter pulled out a small artifact-looking device. It slowly spun up and popped out a piece of paper and a pen.
"Let's draft a tournament. The winner gets to be the group captain."
"Sure."
"Yeah, that works."
"A-ah, ok."
With a majority vote, the draft slowly went on until a makeshift bracket was made.
"For the first match, we have George and Bryce." Peter pointed out the redhead and Bryce, each signalling their readiness.
"Next, we have Jay and me," Peter spoke while glancing at the white-haired kid, who paled in response.
"Then we have Will and Alan."
Each pair glanced at the other, some with scared eyes, some with confidence.
So I'm against him.
Alan glanced indifferently at the boy across from him.
Soon, they made their way into the sword yard, and the smell of oil and soot lingered in the air.
Sounds of swords clashing around them made it hard to think.
Alan took the moment to eye all of the other soldiers around him, watching each one as if trying to glean how they swing their swords.
Nearby, Bryce was busy finding the right sword to use for the match.
After testing the weight of about 5 swords, he found one that fit in his range well.
"Are you both ready?" Peter spoke, taking a step between them to referee.
With a nod from both, the duel commenced.
George moved first, his hair sparking as he bolted forward.
A fire-type bloodline.
His sword swung forward in a diagonal arc, whipping downwards towards Bryce's face.
Bryce's eyes watched as the blade descended.
He tucked to the side quickly, allowing the blade to pass by as he readied a counter.
With a sharp thrust, the blade slid past George's cheek.
With a click of his tongue, George's hair started blazing, shimmering like lit matches.
His blade slowly started sparking, the steel shifting slightly blue.
He drove forward, his blade leaving streaks of smoke after each swing.
But Bryce was able to dodge them all.
Slow.
That was all Bryce thought.
And with a final slash, George's hair slowly returned to normal, his breath ragged and heavy.
Bryce quickly dove in with his blade, easily lining the jaw of his opponent.
"Alright," Peter's eyes gleamed as he eyed Bryce differently."Next up is Jay and me."
"I can Ref," Bryce spoke as he walked over to the side.
"Ok." Peter gave him a thumbs-up.
Jay, now standing face to face with Peter, started second-guessing his entire life.
Why did my dad make me come here?
He miserably draped his sword to the side, clearly planning on just giving up the second the match starts.
"How did someone like you even get qualified to make it here?" Peters taunted Jay, trying to get a rise out of the boy.
"I mean, what kind of life does someone live to be so scared?" His voice dripped with malice as his eyes shifted to a sharp purple.
"I can't even imagine what your father thinks when he sees you." His mouth twisted to a grin. "He probably threw you out here to get rid of you."
The once droopy sword was now standing at a point.
His once fearful eyes now finally reflected the inner spirit of a soldier.
This will be a fun one.
Alan couldn't help but smirk at Peter's eyes.
It was a skill you could unlock in the game.
Taunting Eyes.
These eyes would let you either taunt, scare, or pacify any creature weaker than you.
With this, Peter knows the boy is weaker than him.
"Begin."
With Bryce's cue, the match began.
Jay's red eyes swept his target.
With a tilt, his toes curled.
Thwip.
The air tightened as he whipped forward, his blade in line to sever his target.
Peter's stance was steady.
Jay's strike came across his side, the blade in line with Peter's neck.
Suddenly, Peter's blade shot upwards, the hilt perfectly deflecting the swing.
Jay's eyes trembled at the sight.
His arms were tossed upwards, causing his forward momentum to stagger.
A black glow entered Peter's eyes as he prepped his blade to swing.
Jay instinctively brought his sword down as the slash came, knocking both weapons onto the ground.
Peter took this as a chance to switch to hand combat.
With a wound-up fist, he swung and connected squarely with Jays Cheek.
Jay quickly countered with a blow to the gut, catching Peter off guard.
Such power…
It didn't just hurt, his whole abdomen felt heavier.
He soon noticed how the air around Jay's fingers slowly pulsed.
He took that as a sign to get serious and allowed glowing iridescent scales to coil along his arms and legs.
Soot kicked up as he charged forward, his scales slowly shifting to camouflage with the surroundings.
He ran laps around Jay, causing dust to swell around them.
Jay, now trapped in the cloud of dust, focused his mind on the flow in the air.
As he focused, Peter slowly studied Jay for a weak spot.
He noticed something peculiar.
The dust on the ground slowly lifted around his feet.
I see, I understand his bloodline now.
With renewed confidence, he stepped inwards into Jay's field.
Jay's eyes opened, and he glanced at the shadowy figure within the dust.
There.
As Jay struck the dust, air coiled and exploded outward, causing a rumble to shake the area.
Not there?
As Jay's anticipation turned to fear, a small figure appeared behind him.
The next thing he felt was the ground arriving at his face.
"Winner, Peter."
Bryce's eyes tracked the entire fight.
This place is filled with monsters.
He had thought he had gotten stronger after having the principal of the orphanage teach him swordsmanship, but he was still too weak.
"Ahhh, that was great," Peter, relenting on the good fight, glanced over to Jay.
Jay's eyes felt conflicted.
How did he do that last move?
"Don't think about it too much, you'll never understand it," Peter explained.
"Alright, Alan, Will, have fun."
The next match was here.
Alan had been watching the last two fights with renewed vigor.
He had gleaned a lot about swordsmanship that he didn't know before.
It's like a dance.
"Let's get this over with." Will's gloomy tone pulled Alan out of his reverie.
This kid… Why do I get a sense of danger near him?
He instinctively knew how his danger sense worked.
It was like color was brought to a grey world, the intensity signifying how dangerous.
And the person in front of him right now was a bright, burning red.
Alan quickly picked up a sword from the ground, it was the one Bryce had used.
"Let's begin."
The air shifted as the words left Peter's mouth.
A slow and deliberate halt in the air could be felt.
In front of Alan, Will's clothes started leaking black smoke.
"I'm sorry," he mouthed as he dove forward.
Alan's instincts screamed to dodge.
He quickly dove to the side, and the sound of a screeching bird could be heard to his side.
A dark shadow slid across Will's blade.
Peter's eyes widened as he looked at Will with a new light.
Second stage manifestation.
Along the ground where Jay stood, small black feathers lined the ground.
Powerful.
Alan's only thought was how powerful that swing was.
Will's eyes were devoid of emotion.
He began to move again, each step making the hair on Alan's arms stand.
This time, Alan dove forward.
The blade descended, slicing across the ground behind Alan's now dirty figure.
Alan took this chance to swing at Will's back.
Suddenly, a plume of darkness erupted around both of them.
"Why didn't you just give up?"
An inquisitive voice echoed in Alan's ear as he was surrounded by darkness once again.
"You cannot win."
"You are weak."
Alan's danger sense suddenly flared to the left, forcing him to jump forward.
"How can you see?"
"Is it your bloodline?"
"No matter."
Alan's heart started thumping once again.
The red is everywhere.
With nothing left to try, he decided to strike where the red was the densest.
His insights from the last two fights gave him an idea.
Whenever Peter countered, it was perfectly timed.
This allows him to be able to follow up on any movement.
So, Alan waited.
Time slowed down around Alan's eyes.
Sweat dripped down his face, his tongue hung out of his mouth.
Wait.
[Ding!]
{Congrats Host on your first Natural Talent!}
-Name: Alan Bone-
-Bloodline: ???-
-Mindset: Focused-
-Power: Soldier-
-Points: 3-
-Talents: [Grey] Swordswing, [Grey] Dangersense, {Blue} Absolute Focus-
Alan didn't even notice it, too absorbed in the feeling of danger.
Sweat slid down his body, gliding downwards into the ground.
Drip.
Now.
Alan moved within the darkness with haste.
Clang.
The sound of metal clashing reverberated in the darkness.
Will's previously vacant eyes slightly stirred.
He blocked that?
Alan pushed against the swing, his mind roaring.
Push!
Will's eyes quickly went back to boredom as he slightly twisted and moved his blade to Alan's now exposed back.
"Winner, Will."