“One!” Eric stood before the militia and shouted with all his might. The men took a wide step forward and dropped their other knee, holding the position for a few seconds before the watchman finally yelled once more. “Two!”

  The same was repeated for the other leg. Alternating between the two positions until thirty minutes had fully passed. Once that was done, the men were told to lie down with the weight of the log pressing down on their chest. Unlike Tucker’s fiery personality, Eric was calm and collected with a sharp sense for the soldiers’ progression.

  He didn’t devise the training regimen, but he was allowed to freely change its order and duration. By mixing the exercises and rotations, he could target the aspects they lacked. Even though this was a weaker variation of the watchmen's training, it was still effective. Eric grinned at the regiment before him. Tucker designed it for the average soldier to succeed. Instead of one individual bearing the burden, the soldiers shared it with their comrades. Seeing the method in action, Eric couldn’t help but marvel at the development.

  Soon, the men were doing stomach crunches, with the log hugging their chest. The dirt beneath them stuck to their clothes, mixing with the sweat that drenched their backs. Their bodies were trembling under the chilly night breeze, but beneath the cold was a fire that burned in their hearts. The militia had something to prove and the watchmen could see this.

  Even Benjamin, the knight slayer who was watching from the side, felt intrigued by the development. His gaze shifted to Tucker, the captain of the militia, with curiosity. “What do you plan to do with these men?”

  “Not much. Just train them until they’re worthy,” Tucker replied.

  “I see. Then I suppose you’re recruiting the other watchmen to accelerate their training. Am I correct?” Benjamin asked.

  “To some extent, another would be to lead.”

  “But why go so far? They aren’t part of our order, and you don’t even know these men.”

  “Perhaps, but maybe it’s because I see a younger version of me when I look at them. They were never given a chance until now, and like how my mentor gave me a chance. I wanted to do the same.” Tucker watched the militiamen heave the log up with a lingering sadness in his eyes. “They’re all learning, healing, and growing. That’s a strength that most people don’t see until it’s too late. Hopefully, once they finish their training, they’ll see it for themselves.”

  “Right… that’s the least a captain should be capable of.” Benjamin curled the ends of his bushy mustache. “Then allow me to elevate their training.” The old veteran cupped his hands behind his back and moved beside Eric.

  Tucker raised a brow and stared at Benjamin. It was something Tucker had forgotten, but for some reason, each step Benjamin took resembled that of Alex’s. Purpose filled each of Benjamin’s strides, and once he was standing beside Eric, a sharp chill crawled down his spine.

  Even Eric, who had failed to notice the old man’s presence, felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. The ground trembled, and the dark green glimmer in the knight slayer’s eyes sent the militiamen into a sudden freeze. Despite towering over Benjamin, the men felt as though the old man loomed above them, like an immeasurable figure that forced them to yield without resistance. The suffocating pressure cascaded over them like a relentless downpour, and the other watchmen immediately knew what it was.

  It was killing intent in its purest form. One that was devoid of emotion and filled with the sole purpose of decimating the foes before him. Benjamin’s gaze fell on Eric and soon gave a subtle nod. The young watchman nervously glanced at his captain, but upon seeing Tucker’s firm expression, he knew what he had to do.

  “One!” Eric’s voice erupted through the courtyard, snapping the militiamen back into reality as they tried to bring their bodies up. Yet no matter how much they tried, their bodies instinctively trembled and fell back down. After several more failed attempts, some men were clenching their teeth in frustration while others broke down. The men on the verge of collapse struggled and tried to run, but the log kept them pinned.

  Tucker stared at his men and shouted. “Are you going to give up like this?” The men failed to answer. “You are surrounded by your brothers in a situation you must overcome! The burden is shared with those by your side, so use whatever means necessary to surpass your fear!”

  It was faint, but Tucker could see a surge of aura emerge from some of the militia. The men had already proven that they could lift the log, but fear had grasped their hearts. Fear that they needed to overcome. If a single knight could paralyze three hundred men, then all it would take was a second to wipe them out. Their lives depended on this exercise and they had to break free.

  His eyes glanced at Benjamin, the watchman who elevated the exercise. Without having to say a word, the old man had already started decreasing the pressure exerted on the militia. Once Benjamin had seen their initial reactions and determination, he knew that there was no need to continue. However, Tucker didn’t stop him and instead pushed for the militiamen to overcome this predicament.

  “Is this all you’re capable of?” Tucker raised his voice and pointed at the high castle with the moon shining above. “Don’t you want to prove them wrong! Don’t you want to prove to the world that you’re better than them!”

  One by one, the militiamen were clenching their teeth and clinging onto the log with every fiber of their being. Their aura turned from a dying candlelight flame into a blazing inferno, and soon, the first group with Nemo lifted the log up. Then the next, with Liam and the men by his side. They were all hoisting the logs up while completing their sit-ups and holding them there until Eric gave the word for them to go back down and repeat the process.

  The knight slayer failed to hold back his smile as the men continued their exercise. They reminded him of the old watchmen. A group of individuals who fought together like brothers. Their numbers far exceeded their current system, which kept them traveling in pairs or trios. But he couldn’t do anything about it, not after all the pain and trauma that came after.

  However, they assigned an interesting young captain to lead the militia. It had been years since he felt his heart scream out in rage and had long forgotten the sensation, yet the Captain had brought it back to life. Benjamin stepped back as Eric led the training once more.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Where does this confidence in your men come from?” Benjamin asked.

  “Confidence?” A soft chuckle broke free from Tucker’s lips. “No, this is an expectation, not confidence. They are expected to complete the training because they have something to prove and that desire, that motivation, is what’ll keep them going.”

  Benjamin fell deep into thought. His memory was ailing, and everything seemed to be a haze, but while he still had a fraction of himself together. The old watchman was determined to help train the men before him. As he was thinking about what to do next, something odd caught his eye. Benjamin was an aura user who was beyond the standard and had spent decades of his life on the battlefield. However, once his mind had momentarily cleared, he caught a glimpse of Tucker. A weak aura was surrounding his captain. One that he normally wouldn’t see from a watchman, as most would have created their fourth aura star.

  “You… have you not manifested your fourth aura star?” Benjamin mumbled under his breath, so only the two of them could hear.

  Tucker’s hand twitched, but soon he smiled. “I haven’t had the time to focus on myself.”

  “You should. It’s important to keep oneself strong.”

  “Well, I’ll keep that in mind, but I have bigger worries on my mind, and I also don’t know where to start.”

  The words that left Tucker’s mouth caused Benjamin to frown. It wasn’t easy forming the third star as it requires one to manifest a conviction that defies all odds, but for the fourth, it was a stepping stone. One that created the foundation for the fifth star, which allowed for domain usage. Yet the old knight slayer knew that refinement of one’s soul to create the fourth star wasn’t possible without an elixir of sorts. Either that, or countless hardships and trials.

  Hardships could be made, and what really mattered was whether the individual had the courage, the heart, to move forward. The old knight slayer stood still and felt the surrounding draft float to the sky and then back down. Tucker was manipulating the wind ever so slightly to make it easier for the militia. The lingering traces of spirit essence in the captain’s hand behind him were enough proof, and the other watchmen were in on it.

  “If you would like, this old man could provide you with some guidance.” Benjamin curled his bushy mustache and smiled. “Though it’ll be limited because my memory seems to be failing.”

  The corner of Tucker’s lips curled upward. “I’ll consider it.”

  Benjamin clicked his tongue. “You must have picked up that habit from Salamander.”

  “I have worked with him for a while—” Tucker stopped mid-sentence and glanced to the side, causing Benjamin to follow his gaze.

  Under the stone gothic archway was a lone figure. One who stood there with his arms crossed and an expression filled with anger. It was Carl, and from the sheer rage in his eyes. He knew he was in trouble the second he saw Carl’s face.

  .

  .

  .

  The sound of an old wooden clock ticking away filled the silence of the room. Tucker glanced at it and then back at Carl. The commander had dragged him back to his office and forced him to take a seat. If it wasn’t for the clock, the awkward atmosphere would be almost unbearable to the young watchman.

  Tucker let out a dry cough and forced a smile. “You know, with how often you’ve had me come to your office. I might as well get my own chair.”

  “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Carl asked while looking out the window and towards the area where the militiamen were. “Do you have any idea what your little stunt has done?”

  The commander was furious, and Tucker knew this, but he couldn’t back down. “I know I was hard on them, but how else will I get them into shape in a couple of weeks?”

  “You call putting your own men in danger, training?”

  “It wouldn’t be otherwise. It’s how us watchmen perform through stressful and urgent situations.”

  “They could have died, Captain Welford!”

  “But they didn’t, and it was all planned out and controlled.” Tucker kept his head up high and saw the sharp glare Carl sent over his shoulder. “If anything, question the quality of training they were given to become militiamen. What kind of soldier doesn’t carry their weapons with them at all times?”

  “They received training to keep their weapons at hand, but you can’t expect a bunch of low-grade soldiers to uphold a perfect record,” Carl pointed out.

  “In that case, I can and I will.” Tucker kept a firm tone. “They’re soldiers of our nation, not just some fodder to be thrown out. You asked me to train them and I said I would, but I can’t do that if I have to keep lowering my expectations of them.”

  “I asked you to train them so that they have a higher chance of survival. Not to put their lives at risk and push them to their limits until they break down.”

  “And that’s what I’m doing.” Tucker gritted his teeth and rose from his seat. “You can’t expect me to lower my standards when it comes to matters like this! If they can’t handle the training, then they should leave and head back to their families. The goddamn Empire’s right on our doorstep and there’s no telling when they’ll attack us. It could be in one week, or two, or three!”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Carl’s words came out like a sharp blade. With no rise or fall, a steady cadence that was stripped of warmth. “What would you have done if one of your men died during your training?”

  “We had medical supplies and precautions set up on the side.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Tucker kept his mouth shut. Truth be told, he didn’t know what he would do, but if one of them had died, then the entire training would have been over. The morale in the militia would crumble with no hopes of recovery, and he would be devastated. But that was the exact reason why they had taken precautions to prevent such an issue.

  “Exactly.” Carl gestured at Tucker to sit and gazed out the window once more. “I will say this once, and that will be it. Lower your standards for their training. Your goal is to make them more disciplined and add formality.”

  Tucker took a deep breath and kept his composure. He had no right to go against the commander’s orders, and to try was pointless. But parts of him felt like there was a chance to turn the militiamen into a group of well-trained soldiers. The only issue was that he couldn’t understand why the commander was giving him so much friction.

  “Why?” Tucker fell back in the seat. “Why is there so much friction with how I’m training them? There wasn’t an issue earlier today.”

  “Because of morale,” Carl observed the fortress city with a heavy heart. “We can’t allow incidents to impact the morale of the troops. It’s bad enough with those war golems ravaging the lands, but to hear someone die from a training exercise will have an unprecedented amount of damage across all units.”

  “But no one died.”

  “I know, but did you ever wonder how I came to know about the bullshit you pulled at the barracks?”

  Tucker held his tongue and shook his head.

  “The militiamen that were in the barracks told me.” Carl held his hands behind his back. “They also told the other militiamen about what you were doing. Your actions have a far greater weight than you think, and the fact that you nearly set the barracks on fire just for an exercise is something I can’t stand by.”

  “The fire was well outside of the building and I was controlling the wind so that the smoke would—”

  “It. Doesn’t. Matter.” Carl glared at Tucker. “They don’t know that you’re a wind contractor, and they don’t know that it was safe. Even though I get your point of there being a potential attack at night, it’s unlucky with the city's defenses and the countless guards.”

  "Unlucky doesn’t mean impossible, and it’s common knowledge now that the Empire has its covert forces. If that was them attacking us, then in one night we would have lost three hundred men.” Each of Tucker’s words struck true, but Carl's face turned grim as he finished his sentence.

  After a moment of silence, Carl released a tired and hollow sigh. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be everlasting, and from the distant stare, Tucker could tell that something was wrong. Carl muttered with a voice that carried the entire weight of the world on their shoulders. “They don’t know.”