Chapter 806 - 124 - Irene And Gabrielle (2)
Fast forward a bit——to the training camp everyone wouldn’t shut up about for weeks beforehand.
All of us cadets, from first‑year bronzes all the way to the polished top of Gold Class, were dumped into this rural backwater village, ringed by forest and damp morning fog that clung to the ground like a second skin.
The idea, they told us, was "growth through shared struggle."
What it felt like, honestly, was an excuse to make us beat the living shit out of each other under the watchful eyes of bored instructors who drank too much bitter tea.
From daybreak, the air smelled of wet dirt, sweat, and the tang of nervous tension.
Everyone was sizing each other up because in this training camp, year didn’t matter and rank didn’t matter as well. Out here, reputation only lasted until the first punch landed.
I stood there, boots sinking slightly into soft earth, the training field sprawling wide ahead. There were weapons stacked on stands, like training swords, blunted spears, staves worn smooth from years of sweaty hands gripping them too tight. But a lot of us didn’t even bother. Some, like Rose, preferred fists over steel.
Rose.
She was a storm bottled up in human form with her being on top of Silver Class, on the verge of clawing into Gold. Rumor was she refused to rely on her ability, insisting on her raw fists instead. That stubbornness — or arrogance — had half the academy talking. And today, she was on fire.
"Come on! Get some! Get some!" she roared, echoing off the trees. Her dark green hair clung to her face in sweaty tangles, and her knuckles gleamed wetly.
What was it? Blood? Sweat? Probably both.
In front of her, some poor cadet from second‑year Gold Class swayed on shaky legs, his face a mess of bruises and swelling. He’d already lost before Rose even opened her mouth.