The sunlight pierced through the courtyard as Tucker and Eric stood there with complicated expressions. It had been an hour and forty-two minutes, to be exact, and the results were far from decent. Even with the use of aura, most of the militia couldn’t pass the second checkpoint, and only a handful of men managed to complete the third.

  Tucker stared at the soldiers plastered on the floor. They were covered in sweat, and their armor was smeared with dirt. It was a miracle that all of them still had their weapons and brought back the sandbags, but he was hoping that at least half would make it to the third checkpoint.

  Once the final militia members dragged themselves into the courtyard, Tucker cleared his throat and yelled loud enough so everyone could hear. “Attention! Now that you’ve all returned, the next part of your training is to assemble a defensive formation with a shieldwall. In front of you are lines of string. You have two minutes to form the wall before we attack.”

  “What?” Liam stared at Tucker and then at the red yarn that was dispersed throughout the courtyard from one side to another.

  “The countdown starts now, and I would try to be quick. If not, you’re in for a rough time.”

  The words that came out of Tucker’s mouth sent shivers down the militia’s spines. With their battered bodies, they hastily dragged themselves and formed rigid lines that spanned the entire courtyard. Their shields were raised but barely interlocking with one another and failed to cover several vulnerable gaps. And seeing their poor defensive position caused the two watchmen to exchange worried glances.

  Their idea was to test the defensive capabilities of the militia by having them brace against their attacks, but was such a thing even possible? Tucker didn’t know after seeing their sorry excuse of a shieldwall and couldn’t help but curse the person who trained them. Did they really not care? Or was it that the militia were half-assing their formation? He couldn’t tell at this point, and there wasn’t a need. They would have to learn one way or another, and the quickest way was through experience. He held out his hand and channeled his spirit essence, forming a bow made of wind that pulled the surrounding breeze.

  Their two minutes were up.

  The method Tucker wanted to try was something that had been theorized in the elementary wind techniques for simpletons. A wide attack that would use the bare minimum amount of essence possible for the greatest effect. By severing the thread into tiny pieces and then tightening them, it was possible to create thin, sharp needles made of essence.

  Tucker pulled his arm back, drawing the verdant bowstring in his hands while keeping the other one extended. The militiamen trembled before him, and the look of panic in their eyes were enough to tell him that they weren’t ready—but that didn't matter. They had to adapt and learn. That was the only way for them to live through these dark times.

  In one decisive motion, Tucker aimed the arrow towards the sky. Releasing the bowstring between his fingertips as it soars towards the clouds. The little mana he had held the hundreds of small needle-like threads together. Maintaining the arrow’s shape until finally reaching the pinnacle of its trajectory. Once the arrow began its descent, the mana that held it together vanished with the wind as hundreds of thin emerald projectiles rained down from the sky.

  It took him a while to understand this concept, but like solidifying aura, one could do the same with essence. The act of tightening and compressing the threads was like condensing aura, and right now, he was putting it into practice.

  In the final moments, the militia had improved their lines and adjusted their shields above their heads, bracing as each thin needle struck their shields like a hammer against an anvil. Their arms felt numb, and the tremors that traveled through their bodies screamed at them to run. Yet beneath the chorus of chaos that followed their screams and shouts, none of them dared to take a step back. If a single dent emerged in their ranks, then the entire formation would collapse.

  Tucker stood back and stared in amazement. Their bodies were filled with aura and, from the looks of it, they were doing far better than expected. They should have fallen apart after the initial attack, slowly crumbling as soldiers fell one after another, but had managed to keep their entire line intact. It wasn’t the act of a single soldier, but the collective group that supported one another. Was it because they had known each other for a long time or something they learned just now?

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  What could have brought them together?

  That single question lingered on his mind, but right now Tucker couldn’t stop himself from grinning. They had to be able to do this much if they wanted to survive, and seeing this. He would respond in kind.

  .

  .

  .

  A Few Minutes Earlier

  “Those lunatics…” Liam fell on his back, gasping for air. He glanced at his friends, who were on the verge of puking beside him. The one to his left with curly black hair and golden eyes was Nemo, and the other to his right with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes was Jones. “Are you two alright?”

  “Hell no,” Jones muttered under his breath. He forced the contents of his stomach back down and glared at the watchmen. “Those bastards must be insane! Who the hell decides that the top of a five-hundred-step staircase is a good checkpoint?”

  “Good god, that was the second checkpoint? I thought the first one in that maze of an alleyway was bad enough,” said Nemo with a pale complexion. “Holy shit, I feel like I’m going to die.”

  “It’s alright, at least it’s over now. They’ll probably give us a bit of time for a break—”

  Before Liam could finish his sentence, Tucker cut him off with a stern gaze that examined every militia member in the courtyard. His piercing gaze caused them to instinctively tremble. Was this the presence of one of the Kingdom’s elite forces? Before he could even fully comprehend the situation, Tucker’s next words sent his mind spiraling.

  “What?” Liam uttered while staring at the red string that stretched across the courtyard. They had to form a defensive position with a shieldwall? How?

  “The countdown starts now, and I would try to be quick. If not, you’re in for a rough time.” Tucker revealed a smile, but for some reason, all of them couldn’t help but be afraid.

  “What did he just say?” Nemo asked in disbelief. “Form a shieldwall? We haven’t done that in ages!”

  “Does it fucking matter?” Jones snapped back while scrambling to his feet. “We need to get together before they start attacking!”

  Liam gazed at the red string and bit his lips. They were too close together, and if they tried to form a shieldwall while standing side by side, there wouldn’t be enough room to move.

  Why did the watchmen put these strings like this? There had to be a reason and as his friends were joining the ranks and forming the wall. It clicked in his head.

  “We need to raise our shields above our heads! Those inside hold it above!” Liam gave the order as the other militia members faced him. Their look of confusion caused him to grumble, but luckily, the first to react to his call was Nemo and Jones. Then their other friends and acquaintances.

  The trio watched as Tucker arched his body slightly to the sky, feeling the wind pull against the seams of their clothes as an arrow of wind manifested within the verdant bow he wielded. It was something they had never seen before and nearly took their breaths away, but soon, a sense of dread filled their ranks. The arrow was beaming with energy they had never seen before and, in an instant, vanished from their eyes as a streak of green light crossed the horizon.

  A sharp whistle above their heads caught their attention as the men peered through the gaps in their shields. It was like the stories they had heard about when they were younger. Stories of how watchmen could manipulate the elements and control aspects of nature that shouldn’t be possible. Yet fear crept up their spines as the very thing they admired was now aimed directly at them.

  “Hold!”

  The militia men shouted at one another as they tried to cover whatever gap emerged in their ranks. The arrow had split into countless streaks of light and pelted their shields with a relentless force that caused them to scream in agony. The needles had struck their bodies through the narrow gaps of their aura-covered shields, and as one shield-bearer fell, another would quickly rise to take their position.

  Liam glanced at his comrades and knew that their defensive position was slowly falling apart. His friends at the front were slowly being torn apart by the other watchmen’s attack, and he knew that if they fell, then their entire formation would crumble. The men behind the shieldwall needed to keep their shields raised to protect their allies from range attacks in the sky, but even that had limits.

  Their aura was wavering, and some among them were far weaker than the rest. If even one of them fell, then it would be over—there was no point in holding back and conserving their strength. Liam turned to the men beside him, whose eyes were sharp, and they had already understood the current situation. All they needed was a sign, and seeing this, Liam gave one decisive nod. Signalling for the soldiers in the back to reinforce their aura, spreading it over their shields like a protective veil. They filled every gap they could find within their formation, and soon the others in their ranks would follow suit as realization took hold. One by one, their faltering defense steadied, and they regained their foothold, fighting back against the assault that sought to break them. Once the final needle struck against their barrier, their grim complexions had transformed into one of hope.

  They had done it. They had managed to endure their captain’s attack.

  But for some reason, Liam couldn’t help but feel as if something was off. After experiencing that hell-like march at the start, it seemed too easy for things to simply end here. The other militia had lowered their guards and were chatting amongst each other after the attack had stopped, but Liam’s gaze remained sharp. He focused on Tucker, who was standing idle, and soon saw the watchman grin. A look of dread flashed across his face as a shocking realization manifested.

  It wasn’t over.