Chapter 755: The New Batch
Chapter 754: The New Batch
13 Days To Go
The training grounds were alive with tension.
The cold bit at exposed skin, but no one seemed to notice. Every warrior present was too focused on what stood before them.
Normally, there would have been fifteen warriors present, but there were sixteen.
Annabeth stood at the end of the line, her sword strapped across her back, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes swept across the trainers before her. She looked calm on the outside, but her fingers twitched slightly at her sides.
Beside her, Miles shifted his weight from foot to foot. His spear was clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white around the shaft. He had been quiet since they arrived, his gaze fixed on the four figures standing opposite them.
Micah stood on Miles’s other side, his two axes hanging loosely at his sides. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense. He kept rolling his shoulders, trying to work out the nervous energy that had coiled in his chest.
"I have no idea why I’m nervous," Miles muttered under his breath.
Micah glanced at him. "You heard what Joren and the others said about yesterday, right?"
Miles nodded.
Laia had been furious with herself. She battled Brynhild yesterday, but it was obvious Brynhild had been playing with her, and she still lost.
And as if the trainers yesterday were not brutal enough, the ones they faced now... Micah rolled his shoulders again just as his stomach tightened. Brynhild may not be present, but these people were no less brutal.
Gregory stood at the center, his massive frame practically blocking out the pale morning light. His beard was woven with white-and-red feathers, and his leather armor was scarred from countless battles. He was grinning, which somehow made him even more terrifying.
To his right stood Ronan. He had a sword in its sheath and also a bow and some arrows. He looked almost bored, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that betrayed his true focus.
To his left stood Rhea, her dark hair cropped short, the pale scar running from her wrist up her forearm catching the light.
And at the far end, the one who scared Micah the most—Kevin.
The captain of the hunters stood with his arms crossed, his thick dreadlocks tied back, the jagged scar across his cheek pale against his dark skin. His white earrings with pink centers caught the light as he turned a spear in his hand, testing its weight.
"Fuck, he’s scary," Micah said.
"All four of them are scary," Miles corrected.
Annabeth leaned slightly toward them. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, you are new, so you don’t know," Miles told her. "The four who we are fighting are beasts in their own right. We compare Brynhild to a truly dramatic level or even stronger, but these ones are strong too."
He sighed.
"I should have gone with Dren and Nia into Nirvana," he said.
"We are next on rotation once they come back," Micah told him.
Annabeth nodded, taking in the information. She had to prove herself with this test. If not, she would not be able to join the pack in fighting this war.
Kevin turned the spear in his hand once more, then smiled. And... it was not a reassuring smile.
Gregory laughed loudly, the sound booming across the training grounds. "Are you all just going to stand there? Or are we going to do this?"
There was a beat of silence.
Then suddenly everyone moved.
Micah surged forward, his two axes already in his hands, his eyes locked on Gregory. He had thought about this carefully. He could go after Ronan or Rhea—they were the weaker ones, at least in terms of reputation. But Gregory was the vice captain of the guards, and he used an axe to fight. He needed the experience.
He saw the others fan out around him. Some headed toward Ronan, others toward Rhea. A few brave souls even went after Kevin.
Micah focused on Gregory.
The massive man laughed as Micah approached, his own axe coming up to meet Micah’s strike. The impact sent a shockwave through Micah’s arms, vibrating all the way up to his shoulders. His legs shook from the force, but he didn’t back down.
"Good," Gregory said, his grin widening. "Come at me, boy."
Micah attacked again, swinging both axes in a wide arc. Gregory parried with ease, his axe moving almost lazily to block the strikes. Each blow sent another shockwave through Micah’s body, but he kept pushing forward.
Meanwhile, the warriors who had gone after Ronan were learning a hard lesson.
Ronan may have been the weakest among the four trainers, but he was not weak by any standard. He unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion, parrying a strike from one of the guards, then sent another warrior flying with a fist to the chest.
Rhea, meanwhile, was surrounded by four warriors who thought they had her cornered.
She smiled.
Then she closed the distance between herself and the nearest warrior in one swift move. Her fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling backward. She pivoted, her leg sweeping another warrior off his feet, and drove her elbow into the ribs of a third.
She moved like water, flowing from one opponent to the next, never staying still long enough to be hit.
One of the warriors managed to fire an arrow at her. She turned, caught it mid-air—her movements almost impossible to track—and snapped it in half with her bare hands.
The warrior stared at her in shock.
Rhea smiled again, then kicked him aside.
Gregory, meanwhile, pressed harder on Micah, his strikes coming faster and heavier with each passing moment. Micah’s arms were screaming, his legs trembling, but he refused to give ground.
Miles and Annabeth had approached Kevin together.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Two against one. But the moment they got within range, Kevin moved.
He pivoted, the butt of his spear slamming into Miles’s chest, sending him staggering backward. Before Annabeth could attack, Kevin had already turned, his spear sweeping her legs out from under her.
She hit the ground hard.
Miles scrambled to his feet, his spear raised. "I’m going to regret this, but I’ve admired him since I was younger," he muttered.
Annabeth rose beside him, her sword in hand. "I don’t know him, but I do know this isn’t going to be easy."
Miles huffed a laugh. "Tell me about it."
They attacked together then.
Kevin met them head-on. His spear moved in a blur, parrying Miles’s thrusts and deflecting Annabeth’s strikes. He was faster than he looked, his movements precise and devastating.
Annabeth saw an opening—a gap in Kevin’s defenses—and lunged forward.
Kevin turned, the butt of his spear slamming into her side and sending her flying backward. She hit the ground, gasping for air.
Miles tried to press the advantage, but Kevin was already there, his spear parrying Miles’s strike and pushing him back.
Just then, an arrow landed a few steps away from Annabeth.
She looked up.
Rhea stood on the other side of the clearing, her bow still drawn, a smile on her face. She was watching Annabeth with something that looked almost like assessment.
Then a warrior fired an arrow at Rhea. She turned, her own arrow flying in response, shattering the warrior’s arrow mid-flight. The two arrows exploded into splinters, raining down across the snow.
Annabeth scrambled to her feet, her sword raised.
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