Ryan’s legs burned.
His lungs scread for air, each breath sharp and ragged as he forced himself to keep moving. The two laps had been brutal, but they were only the beginning.
Strength drills followed imdiately.
Push-ups. Endless push-ups. Ryan’s arms shook as he lowered himself down for the fortieth ti, maybe the fiftieth—he’d lost count. Sweat dripped from his face onto the dirt below.
"Keep your back straight!" the instructor barked, walking between the rows of students. "If I see anyone sagging, you’re starting over!"
Ryan gritted his teeth and pushed himself up again.
Beside him, Jas moved as if he’d perford this a million tis. His form perfect despite the exhaustion and even then, there wasn’t much exhaustion. Jared was the sa, both of them pushing through with the discipline of years of training.
Ryan’s arms gave out.
He collapsed onto the dirt, gasping.
The instructor quickly jogged over to Ryan.
"Up!" the instructor shouted. "You’re not done until I say you’re done!"
Ryan planted his hands and forced himself back up. His muscles scread in protest, but he kept going.
If it weren’t for the cherry strength boosters that Ryan ate back in the forest a few weeks ago... he’d never have been able to continue these drills.
Ryan wasn’t the only one to collapse, only to be forced back up by the instructor.
After the push-ups ca squats. Then lunges. Then planks that stretched on for what felt like hours.
By the ti the instructor finally called for them to stop, Ryan could barely stand. His entire body trembled, soaked in sweat, his vision slightly blurred at the edges.
"Please... no more." He quietly whispered to himself.
Most other students were in similar states. So had collapsed onto the ground entirely, chests heaving. A few looked like they might be sick or dead.
Jas and Jared were heaving, but seed more than able to continue.
The instructor walked away from the group and stood back on the raised platform, arms crossed, watching them all with a scarred face.
"Everyone, good job, that concludes today’s lesson," he said, his voice carrying across the training ground. "But before you go, I need a mont of your ti."
The exhausted students quieted, so still bent over, hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath. A couple others had their hands infront of their mouths trying to stop themselves from vomiting over everyone around them.
"Today is the day most recruits quit their knight training," the instructor continued. His tone was steady, but there was an edge to it now. "Before anyone decides to go through with that, I would like you to know a couple things."
He paused, letting the silence settle.
"The Rupes Pass—the three fortresses that stand between the Elven Kingdom and our own... its first fortress is struggling." His jaw tightened. "The elves and the dwarves have, after many years of research, created a new siege weapon. The magic cannon, It has unprecedented power and because of it, It’s possible that within just a couple of weeks, the first fortress might fall."
A murmur rippled through the group.
The instructor’s expression hardened. "This morning, I received a letter. My eldest brother died fighting at the first fortress."
The murmur died instantly.
"Tomorrow," the instructor said quietly, "it might be your brother. Your father. Your mother. In a year, the very city we are standing in might be burning to the ground, with millions of us dying as we try to defend our own hos."
He let the words sink in.
"One day, the elves will cross the Rupes Mountains. On that day, we will need every single knight we can get to push them back."
His gaze swept across the students, eting eyes, daring anyone to look away.
"This is no longer about just you. It’s no longer about just . This is about the survival of our race."
He stepped forwards, his voice rising slightly.
"So maybe today, you decide to quit. Maybe you choose an easy path, beco a farr and live your days quietly."
He paused.
"But the second you walk away, those elves have won. Not because they’ve killed you. Because you’ve already given up."
The silence was absolute.
"We need you. Every single one of you. Not because you’re heroes. Not because you’re special. But because together..." he emphasised the word, "together, we might just stand a chance."
The instructor stepped back.
"Now get out of here. Combat Forms starts in ten minutes. Don’t be late."
The students were stunned into silence.
A few of them closed their eyes. A few turned to their sides, looking upon their peers. Many looked at themselves... with disgust and Ryan... Ryan was one of them.
This isn’t a ga. If I don’t pull myself together, I, along with every human in this city will die or be enslaved.
I refuse to let that happen.
Suddenly, a shout ca from one of the students beside him.
It was Jas.
"HOORAAHH!" he scread.
The world scread back.
"HOORAAHHHH!"
The sound erupted across the training ground, raw and defiant. Voices joined together, exhaustion forgotten, replaced by sothing fiercer.
"HOORAAHH!"
Ryan’s chest felt tight, but this ti it wasn’t from exhaustion.
He opened his mouth and shouted with them.
"HOORAAHH!"
The instructor watched them, his expression was filled with sothing. Approval, maybe. Or respect.
He raised his hand, and the shouting died down.
"Ten minutes," he said. "Training Hall Alpha. Move."
The students dispersed, energy surging through them despite their battered bodies. The weight of the speech still hung over them, but now it was different. Not crushing. Driving.
Ryan fell into step beside Jas and Jared.
Jas glanced at him, a grim smile on his face. "Still want to quit?"
Ryan shook his head. "Not a chance."
"Good," Jas said.
Soon the group of a hundred fledgling knights reached a hall.
Many knights were leaving the hall, finished with their lesson.
Now it was their groups turn.
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