Loopbreaker

“Trina said you realize you’re ruining our reputation,” Derrek growled. “Father’s on his way. You’re going to regret believing you belong here.”

Choosing to ignore the obvious attempt at provoking him, Francis followed his brother’s back, content to watch the bustling of students who moved in every direction.

The one thing he noticed more than anything was how the few women who were out were always in packs. None of them walked in groups smaller than two, and often he would see a group of five, giving glares that made everyone else get out of their way.

A few glanced at him, which made him assume that word had spread about everything happening in the Lancaster family. None had extended more than a quick glance, choosing instead to keep their resting stay out of my way, expressions plastered on their faces.

The next strange thing was the one young man he had seen wearing green robes, clearly marking him as a mage. He talked and laughed with others but did not interact with the women who wore the same kind of robes that he wore.

“Why does that guy not talk or walk with them?” Francis asked.

“What?” Garret replied.

“The mage, that guy. Why does he never speak to any of the girls?”

A grunt came from Derrek as he glanced for a second before continuing the breakneck pace they walked at. “He’s a male mage. They don’t like him because he’s gifted.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How is that different than–”

His brother spun around, coming to a halt immediately. Once again, that oversized finger pointed at him. The same scowl Francis remembered from his childhood was present on his brother’s face. “Listen, I’m not here to tell you how this place works. Only those who belong should be here, and you,” Derrek said, stopping an inch before touching his chest, “don’t.”

With that declaration made, Francis’ brother turned and took off again.

Always an arse… Just how badly could I kick his ass before I got in trouble?

Unable to help himself, Francis smiled as he continued behind his brother, ready for whatever came next.

***

I lied… These people are crazy.

The instructor, Oidrun Flistrave, laughed as he made each boy present gather around the metal orb object in the training area. It had eight long metal poles as thick as their hand protruding from it, shaped like the spokes of a wheel.

“Pain… what is pain?” Oidrun asked.

Someone started to raise their hand, and the almost-seven-foot-tall, one-eyed man cursed.

“No! I’m not looking for an answer, you moron! It’s rhetorical! Now go run four laps!”

Without hesitating, the lanky teen took off running.

“I swear this instructor is short a few bricks for a finished wall.”

A couple of the boys near him commented that as the teen started the loop each of them had already run ten times.

Clearing his throat, Oidrun glared at them again. “Pain is a teacher. It is a warning. It is a lesson. Today you shall learn it another way. Tell me, how many of you want to run through the cockabur bushes again?”

An evil grin came over the man as he waited a few seconds, not a single one moving at all. “Or what about when I force you to sit in the ice tanks? Nothing like wondering if your manhood will freeze right off!”

He roared with laughter and then slammed a hand on the metal contraption. “Well, this is another way each of you will learn about pain. Everyone one of you will grab onto the bar simultaneously, and when I activate it, you will realize that pain comes in many forms.”

He pointed a finger at one boy. “Some of you feel it from being teased because your teeth are crooked. Or perhaps you’re the son of a noble who just got killed for being an idiot,” Oidrun declared, having moved before another boy and leaned in.

No one chuckled or laughed. Every few boys, the man made his way past, he paused, finding something to comment about or bring up a shortcoming.

Finally, he reached the spot where Francis stood. The man’s grin grew.

“But this one… this one is a real winner. The ninth son! Imagine the shame and pain he has endured! Why, the rumor is his daddy is coming here to take him home and give him a beating.”

Francis looked straight ahead, not flinching as Oidrun made a pouty face.

The large man snorted when no reaction came and shook his head. “Get in a circle and grab the rail. Do not let go until you must. You’ll understand why immediately. Those who give up first will find themselves wishing they hadn’t. They will learn what real pain is when I kick their arses for being weak.”

Everyone moved as one, not fighting for any particular spot.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Remember, when you’re in a fight and someone has stuck their weapon through your leg, shoulder, or chest, you must endure the pain and continue to fight! Today is another chance to practice that lesson. Now brace yourselves!”

Francis watched as Oidrun ducked under the rail and moved to the small metal orb. The man put his hand on it and closed his eyes.

Something seemed to be happening, and then every nerve in Francis’ body started to tingle.

Each second, the sensation increased—he saw two boys yelp at the start, letting go immediately.

“Laps! Now! I’ll deal with you later,” the instructor shouted.

Grunts and clenched teeth started to form on those around him, and Francis wondered how long these other students would last.

The sensation didn’t feel good and his muscles were constricting, getting tighter. Even his jaw felt ready to smash his teeth together, but it he were being honest, it wasn’t that bad. He had endured worse.

With each second that passed, the pain began to grow and soon only a dozen remained.

“These are real men! Now for the fun!” Oidrun exclaimed.

Francis watched as a few boys shook, looking ready to pass out, their legs forcing them to jump up and down as the surge of energy pulsed through his body.

Another let go before crashing into the stone bricks.

Closing his eyes, Francis embraced it.

His skill was mitigating most of it. Doing his best to breathe, he let his mind remember all the times he had been killed.

Every claw that had cut him.

The jaws that had bitten his neck or face.

An oversized fist or leg from a rhino-kin that flattened him.

One memory came that hurt more than the rest. A hand was wrapped around his throat. Something inside him ached and the pain he then felt was beyond anything else. The priestess had seen something inside him and killed him, yet that grip had lingered even after death.

A cry filled his ears, and it took a moment to realize it was his voice.

Wetness ran down his face.

Blinking, he saw there was a red haze to everything. On top of that, he couldn’t let go.

Notifications wanted his attention, but his mind was trying to understand why every part of him hurt.

Suddenly, he flew backward, something large and flat striking his chest.

A cry escaped his lips, not from the pain but the need for air. Warmth started to fill him and slowly his vision returned when his lungs started working again.

“What… who are you?”

The voice sounded familiar but there was an echo until a popping sound came.

“Uh… what?” Francis asked, looking up at the faces above him.

Two healers were bent down near him; next to them was Oidrun. “Why didn’t you let go, boy? How? How could you endure that?”

Wincing, Francis sat up slowly, ignoring the concerned words of the healers to take it slow.

“It wasn’t that bad until the end.”

Roaring with laughter, his newest instructor turned and motioned at the crowd of boys, who stared at Francis with expressions on their faces that were anything but normal.

“Do you hear that?” Oidrun called out. “It wasn’t that bad? The ninth son outlasted every one of you by a full minute! Most full warriors I know couldn’t do that. Even more impressive, it’s his first day!”

The giant of a man turned and held out his hand. “Get up, boy.”

Francis obeyed and was yanked to his feet, every joint in his body aching at the sudden movement, but he managed to stay standing.

“Let this be a lesson. However he did it, I do not doubt that this one has endured far more pain than any of you have. No gold spoons, no women sent to tend to your balls, nothing but hard work and rejection. Fear the one who knows pain, as they are often the ones who won’t give up until they take their final breath.”

Clapping his hands, Oidrun pointed at the starting point of the lap that ran around his small courtyard. “Everyone, ten laps. Last one to finish does ten more.”

Francis started to move and a massive hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Not you, Lancaster. You earned a break. Tell me, do you have Pain Resistance?”

“Uh… no. I guess that’s a skill?” Francis lied.

Blowing air through his lips, Oidrun grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close as the man bent his knees slightly. “You’re a decent liar, but I can tell. No one does what you did without that skill. I had to knock you free or you would have died. Even now, you don’t realize you look like crap. Blood from your eyes, ears, and nose has stained that pretty face of yours.”

Touching his cheeks, Francis pulled back red fingers and stared at them.

“So then, don’t tell me what rank your skill is, just confirm that I am right.”

“And why would I do that?” Francis shot back.

Chuckling, his instructor pointed around the courtyard, where a variety of obstacles, weapons, tools, and other things were set up. “Because I can help you level it and perhaps even help you acquire other skills. Word travels fast, Lancaster. I know you have Power Strike. Every instructor here knows you took down your older brother, which should be impossible. The way you fight, and the determination you have… it is the only reason we all believe General Stenson sent you and the story is not some fabrication.”

Francis wanted to scream for various reasons but reined in his temper. “Am I measured by who sent me or what I do? All I care about is getting stronger and acquiring any skill that I can.”

Oidrun glanced around at the boys running and then motioned for Francis to follow. They walked about thirty yards to a section of wood set up in a long tunnel. Thick sticks with padded caps were partially inside holes that lined each edge.

“This was what I had planned for today’s lesson on pain, but when I heard about you and found out you were coming, I might have changed it at the last minute.”

Francis couldn’t help but frown, seeing what was an obvious chute meant to run through while others slammed the poles into the person.

“Why would you do that?” Francis asked.

“One can measure a lot about a person by the company they keep, the words they say, and the things they do. You don’t talk much or spend a lot of time with others, but what you have done speaks volumes. Tell me, Francis, how much pain are you willing to endure to get stronger?”

It caught him off guard to hear the instructor call him by his first name, but his response came naturally.

“I’m willing to die for it,” Francis stated.

Oidrun slapped him on the arm, sending him sideways a little bit, and smiled. “Then you have come to the right person. I, myself, enjoy inflicting pain—not because I’m some sick and twisted person like everyone of the other students will say, but because I have been in hundreds of fights.”

As he spoke, the instructor started undoing the leather vest he wore and dropping it to the ground. Then, he did the same for his shirt before depositing it on top. “One learns to endure pain, and the proof is marked on their body.”

The large man pulled his undershirt off and stood there, naked from the waist up. Slowly he spun around, showing off what had to be fifty scars that covered every part of his bare skin.

“Pain comes from experience. Trust me, Lancaster. I have more experience than most men will ever want to acquire. I believe the General was right; you’re worthy of his seal. Now, do you have the skill?”

Francis nodded, not holding back that truth.

“Excellent,” Oidrun said, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s see how high we can get it in the coming years.”

Francis smiled back at the man, finally checking the notifications that wanted his attention.

[ Pain Resistance Increased – 32 Proficient ]

[ Endurance Increased - 31 ]

Four points to that one skill?! And one in Endurance.

Suddenly, the idea of suffering seemed far more bearable.