I went through the next morning as usual, dreading the afternoon with Zafas. I had personally drawn his ire. I headed out the back of the Cathedral to the training grounds. This is where the templars and battle priests trained every day.

  As the sun broke over the horizon, casting its golden rays across the sprawling landscape, the training ground came to life. Nestled on the outskirts of a bustling medieval town, the field was expansive, bordered by dense thickets of oak and pine that whispered tales of valor and perseverance. The ground was a patchwork of well-trodden earth and grassy patches, marked by the footprints of countless warriors sharpening their skills.

  At the center of the training ground stood a large wooden pavilion, its weathered beams bearing the scars of time and the battles fought in its shadows. Here trainer's voices echoed as they encouraged young recruits and seasoned veterans alike. A mix of men and women, all clad in simple linen tunics and leather armor, gathered around, their faces a blend of determination and camaraderie.

  To one side of the training ground, a series of wooden targets stood at varying distances—some life-sized figures, others simple straw-stuffed dummies, all designed to test the archer's aim. The scent of fresh wood mingled with the earthy aroma of the ground, while the sound of bowstrings snapping echoed like a battle cry. Archers, both novice and expert, took turns releasing their arrows, watching them soar through the air, aiming for the center of the bullseye painted brightly on each target.

  On the opposite end, a wide sparring area was marked out with logs and stones, creating an arena-like space for melee combat training. Here, knights clad in practice armor sparred vigorously, their swords clanging loudly as they engaged in mock battles. Their faces were lit with excitement, sweat glistening on their brows as they gripped their weapons with fierce resolve. The sounds of metal striking metal, punctuated by the shouts of encouragement and advice from onlookers, made for an exhilarating atmosphere. Nearby, a few combatants practiced with wooden staffs, honing their skills in unarmed combat and grappling, their movements fluid like dancers in a deadly art.

  Scattered throughout the grounds were various other stations dedicated to different aspects of warfare. One area hosted a series of stone and wooden props simulating fortifications, allowing soldiers to practice storming walls and engaging in siege tactics. Another corner was dedicated to the use of shields, where recruits worked on their defensive maneuvers, learning to protect themselves amidst the clamor.

  As I entered I heard the clang of metal and the twang of bowstrings settled into a rhythm—a chorus of training that spoke of not just preparation, but of tradition and honor. This training ground was more than just a place for physical combat; it was a crucible where young warriors forged their identities, learning not only the art of warfare but also the values of teamwork, discipline, and perseverance—essentials for any fighting force in the medieval world.

  Out of nowhere Zafas appeared clad in training gear, full of barely restrained excitement and righteous fury. "Here!" He threw a set of training gear into my arms with a looked of demented joy. "Have someone help you get dressed the meet me in the ring over there. Time you learned respect young man." He stormed off toward a training ring on the right. One of the simple circles of bare earth marked off by a wooden ring in the ground.

  I huffed out a breath and headed off to the side to put on the training pads and leather helm. As I struggled to get the pads on one of the nearby trainees must have taken pitty on my efforts. "Need a hand?" I looked up to see a man a little shorter than myself with a wide stocky build and yellow hair grinning at me. He looked to be in his early twenties.

  "If you're wouldn't mind. I'm apparently in for a beating today." I followed this with a self deprecating chuckle.

  "You have no idea. I've rarely seen the High Templar this worked up. Not since Larat over there accidentally started a fire in the gear storage room over a year ago. Worked the man half to death AFTER beating on him all afternoon. It was brutal." He gave a rueful shake of his head as he began helping me don the pads.

  "Oh joy. Honestly I need some martial training. I need to know how to defend myself in case I'm ever attacked. At least to a basic level."

  "You're still going to get hammered into the dirt today, literally. If you take it like a man and express a willingness to learn though it should go a little better. How's that feel?" He'd finished helping me don the pads.

  I moved and twisted around a bit to get a feel for them. "Pretty good. Not as constricting as I'd feared."

  "They're linen and padding. Not very heavy. Real armor is a fair amount heavier unless you go with leather. Even then the movement and weight vary a great deal depending on the make of the armor and type of leather used. Best get to it though before he gets even angrier. Had any experience with a weapon?"

  "None whatsoever. I heard a mace or a spear is good for beginners."

  "Go with a mace. Spears are for reach but that won't help you today and a spear is more difficult to carry around and use well in a city due to tighter spaces. I'd say a simple bar mace. Get to it. He'll point you towards the weapons." He gestured with his head and I turned to see Zafas staring at me while pacing like a caged beast.

  I firmed my resolve and squared my shoulders ad I walked over to him. Showing fear would only make it worse. I stepped right up to him and looked him in the eye as I spoke. "Reporting as ordered sir."

  A grim smile appeared that didn't reach his eyes as he said "At least you have some measure of spirit. Too bad I inted to break it today. Do you know why I'm angry Cid?"

  "Because I stepped well beyond my authority. Because I showed disrespect to the church itself and you specifically. And because I broke protocol and decorum sir." I'd had plenty of time to think on it.

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  "And you're self aware to boot. That's good. Had experience with any weapons?"

  "I'm afraid not sir. I believe a bar mace might suit my needs as a beginner though."

  "True. The weapons rack is over there. Pick one that suits you and return." He pointed to the middle of the training grounds next to the wooden pavilion.

  I jogged over and looked at the weapons. There were a great many and I wasn't sure which mace was a bar mace. I asked a young lady who walked over at about the same time. "Which of these is a bar mace ma'am?"

  She looked at me with sympathy and pointed. "It's that one. Looks like a cross from the end."

  It looked like a metal stick with a brown leather grip. I picked one of the longer ones at about 1.2 meters. I tested the weight finding it to be about 7 kilos. Hefty but I was fairly strong and felt I could handle it so I logged back over to an impatient Zafas.

  "The bar mace is a simple weapon. Try your best to hit me. If you become too injured to continue you will be healed. Do you understand?"

  "I looked forward to your instruction sir." I bowed.

  "Hmph. Begin." As soon as the word left his mouth he sped toward me like a shooting star. I'd never seen a person move that fast and only had my mace raised halfway when his blunt warhammer pounded into my gut.

  I dropped on the spot and threw up immediately. There was blood in it. It felt like I folded in half from the impact before I'd crumpled to the ground. It took me about a minute to stop heaving and catch my breath.

  "You're slow. That's normal for the first time a person ever holds a weapon. Try to watch my hips and feet, not my weapon. Let's see how you swing that mace first though." He picked me up by the back of the pads just between my shoulder blades like I was light as a feather. I was so screwed.

  He stepped back and bit and I set my feet. I gripped the mace in both hands and swung at his head, intent on removing it. He blocked the strike with contemptuous ease and I was sent off balance. I felt a sudden impact in my right side, right in the kidney. Down I went for the second time.

  "Heal him." Zafas said to a nearby priest who leapt to obey. I felt the agony in my side vanish as the priest channeled healing magic into me and was able to breathe easily once more.

  It was then that I noticed the training grounds had gotten much more quiet. I looked around and almost everyone was watching Zafas pound the stuffing out of me line a toy. Zafas noticed this too.

  "Back to work the lot of you! This is not a show for you to watch!" He roared at everyone who shot back into whatever they were doing like a demon was after them.

  He looked back at me and said "Try not to telegraph your movements so much. After a bit more we'll get you a shield. I think it may suit you and your desire to find some defense. Again."

  For the next hour he beat on me. He gave helpful instructions the whole time which was nice I suppose. I had to be healed a total of 11 times in that hour. I did get a bit better by the end, able to block a strike on occasion before being decimated.

  "Go back and grab a shield. A simple round shield should do." He rested his hammer on his shoulder and waited.

  I went to get a shield as fast as I was able. Physically healed but fealing like a well beaten rug. I returned and he showed me how to hold the shield and gave brief instructions on how to deflect blows with it. I thought I may have a chance to defend and lessen the beatings at least a bit

  I was wrong. He was an expert with his hammer and it only took him a moment to get my shield out of position before slamming it into me over and over. For almost 2 more hours he pummeled me. At various points I suffered a broken right upper arm, broken right leg and hip, several broken ribs, a crushed right hand, and several more internal injuries. I had to be healed another 20 times by 3 separate healers. It was by far the most brutal thing I'd ever gone through.

  When it was nearly dinner time he called a stop. "Enough for today. If you truly wish to learn you may return tomorrow. The lessons will be more instructive and less punitive. What did you learn today?"

  "Respect. And perseverance." I said huffing for breath like a fish out of water. I was barely on my feet at this point.

  "Very good. I'm glad you understand this was necessary. You're healthy and strong for your age. You may not be able to level and gain skills like most but rigorous physical training can still have benefits. To a point at least. Generally you can gain between 5 and 8 points to the physical stats through training. You'll be paired with a different instructor tomorrow. Go get cleaned up and dont forget to eat. It's important after all that healing." Having said his piece he walked off toward the pavillion.

  I shuffled over to the weapons rack and deposited the mace and shield. My limbs felt like lead and I felt like an old man, stiff in every joint. The same man from earlier came over to help me doff my training pads.

  "He worked you over as bad as I've ever seen and I've been here for over 8 years. You just kept getting up though. That's good. If you hadn't it would have been much worse. And he's not making you stow and clean all the gear. He must have taken pity on you because you took it like a man."

  "It could have been worse?!" The only way I can imagine it being worse is if he'd actually killed me.

  "Much. Imagine being put back on your feet after you ran out of the strength to get there yourself. And then having to put away and clean every single weapon and pad. Alone. It would've taken you half the night. And he actually gave you instruction throughout. Heed his advice. It may have been brutal but he's a master of combat."

  Having gotten all the gear off I noticed both blood and sweat soaking every inch of my clothes. "I'm not sure I could've survived that."

  "He'd never kill one of us here. He's a good man. Harsh but fair. Best hurry to the baths. Gets crowded after daily training. Oh, and dont forget to check your status before you sleep. You'll likely have a surprise waiting for you." I then noticed everyone stowing their gear and heading out so I rushed to bathe.

  I made it just before the rush and went to eat as instructed. I just sat there for a bit after eating, too tired to move when Derk walked over.

  "How bad was it?" He asked with a mocking grin.

  "About as bad as I expected, although it apparently could have been far worse."

  "And?"

  "And I'd absolutely do it again. Totally worth it. Haha." I cradled my ribs. Laughing hurt. Laughing shouldn't hurt.

  "Yeah, that's about what I figured. You up to cleaning tonight? I can excuse you if you're not feeling up to it." He asked with a little concern.

  "Nah. I'm sore, not dead. I can handle it." I got up to put away my plate and we walked out together chatting amiably.

  After cleaning that evening and getting back to my room i collapsed into bed. I barely had the will to look at my status before succumbing to sleep.

  PERSONAL STATUS

  LEVEL 4

  Strength: 21

  Dexterity: 16

  Constitution: 19

  Wisdom: 10

  Intelligence: 10

  Charisma: 12

  Blessings

  Blessing of Rekf

  Amazing! I'd gained a point in both Str and Con. The available stats to be gained there were limited but welcome. I didnt have the energy to be too excited but I was happy. I was smiling as I blacked out.