The group in front of Leo was a mixed bag. Two archers, one knight, three mages, a rogue, and three warriors. Gordon was among them, his expression practically glowing with excitement. The young man shifted on his feet like he could barely stop himself from bouncing forward.

  Morgan lingered off to the side, her arms folded, eyes calm and assessing. She had the quiet patience of someone used to cleaning up messes of other people. He was fairly sure she was already taking bets with herself on who would need the most healing.

  He wasted no time moving everyone to their designated areas.

  “Alright,” he clapped his hands once. “Archers and mages, head over to the target area—next to Ron there.”

  Ron was still loosing arrows at a set of targets drawn on the stone walls, each shot thudding home with steady rhythm. He glanced over as the group approached.

  “Think you can give them some pointers?” Leo asked hopefully. “Archery’s not exactly my thing.”

  Ron answered with a flat, unimpressed stare.

  Leo grinned, stepped forward, and summoned frost to his palm. Mana surged down his arm, coalescing into a sharp lance of ice. He fired it with a flick of his wrist, the projectile slamming into a target dead-center. Ice crackled across the stone, turning the target into a mirror of ice.

  “Not entirely useless at range though,” Leo said lightly.

  Ron looked at Leo, then the target. Then back to Leo.

  “Ah, oops?” Leo said, before laughing through a small apology.

  Ron waved the newcomers over, and Leo left them in his hands. Although he somehow didn’t realise that sending people to learn from someone who was basically a mute didn’t really bode well. Perhaps they would learn by example.

  He took care of the mages himself.

  He started by walking them through basic control, explaining how steady mana flow from an Essence could make all the difference between a clean, controlled cast and a wild misfire from panic. The results were mixed. A couple showed promise, others clearly had a long road ahead. One, however, stood out.

  “Marco,” the man introduced himself nervously. Slim build, brown hair, an attentive, yet nervous focus that followed every word Leo spoke. When it was his turn, Marco raised his wand and conjured shadow whips that cracked into the stone targets with decent accuracy. His control faltered occasionally, but the potential was clear.

  “Marco, come with me,” Leo said, gesturing toward a small sparring circle marked in the stone.

  Marco hesitated, looking around worriedly, then stepped forward.

  “Try to hit me,” Leo told him. “Use whatever you have. Don’t hold back. That’s what Morgan is here for.”

  “I can’t heal dead,” Morgan called flatly.

  Leo gave her a quick grin before turning back to Marco, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Guess that means I’ll just have to dodge.”

  Marco’s grip on the wand tightened when he met Leo’s eyes. A flick of his wrist sent the shadows lashing forward.

  The first whip snapped through the air with a low hiss. Leo sidestepped, feeling the rush of displaced air against his ribs. Another came in from the left. He dipped under it, feet light on the stone, eyes tracking the rhythm of Marco’s casting.

  The whips struck in quick succession, each crack echoing in the training ground. Leo moved between them with ease, his body finding the gaps without needing to rely on Voltaic Reflex.

  He let the dance carry on for a moment, studying the flow of the strikes. Then, curious, he lashed out with a punch aimed straight at one of the tendrils.

  It twisted mid-swing and coiled around his forearm. The speed and precision of it told him it was no accident.

  A strange, cold sensation seeped into his skin where the shadow touched, spreading across his hand like a film of oil. It was not enough to cause pain, but it was enough to make his instincts tighten.

  Mana surged in response, flowing into his arm with the familiar thrum of Refined Mana Strikes. Power wrapped his fist, and the tendril shuddered violently before snapping back towards Marco.

  They reset without a word. Marco kept up the barrage, forcing Leo to adjust his movement. The steady rhythm broke without warning when a spark ran up his spine.

  He jumped high, looking down just in time to see his own shadow split into clawed hands that snapped shut on empty air where his feet had been.

  He landed lightly, a grin tugging at his mouth. Cool as hell.

  Marco was panting lightly, sweat forming on his brow, yet he raised his wand again.

  “That’s enough,” he called. “You pass. Keep practicing, and I’ll send you to Cece-”

  Leo spotted an observer in the shadows, smiling as he met her silvery gaze.

  Marco gave a quick, nervous nod and a thank you, retreating to the others. A few clapped him on the back as he passed. Leo felt a small warmth in his chest at the camaraderie.

  He moved on to the melee bunch next. He hadn’t exactly had any practice with a sword, apart from a few times in Boyd’s gym before Boyd told him to put it down and stick to his fists.

  “A damn atrocity,” Boyd had called it.

  He guided them through the footwork he used to get in close, watching their swings and imagining himself on the receiving end. It was a little tricky, he would admit, especially since most of them were borderline novice.

  Two stood out here, aside from Gordon, who was clearly raring to go and good enough that Leo felt a spark of excitement watching him move. The standouts were the rogue and the knight, Maddie and Jonah.

  Both showed real promise, enough that Leo was ready to see more.

  “Alright, Maddie, Jonah. Come to the sparring area,” Leo instructed.

  The pair followed him to the arena. Leo took position opposite them.

  “Which one of us fights first?” Jonah asked confidently, his voice higher than he expected from the middle-aged man.

  “Both of you come at me at once,” Leo prompted with a smile.

  Maddie tilted her head. “Is that not a bit unfair?”

  “This place is anything but fair,” Leo replied. “Best to get used to it. Now, come.”

  He was fully channelling his inner Boyd at this point.

  Maddie didn’t need to be told twice. She closed the distance in quick bursts, blades flashing towards his side. Her strikes flowed smoothly, but her speed was still a far cry from his. Leo stepped around each blow, letting them cut through empty space.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  He didn’t press her yet. Instead, he waited, curious to see how she’d adapt once the first rush failed.

  A roar split the air behind her. Jonah was moving now, mace raised high. The sound hit Leo like a hook in his mind, pulling his focus towards the knight. It broke after a heartbeat but long enough for Maddie to pounce.

  Water shimmered suddenly along one dagger’s edge, running down in a narrow ribbon, humming like his Mana Strikes.

  Leo stepped back—and his heel sank.

  Sand?

  Grains shifted beneath his boot, sucking at his balance. Jonah was shaping the ground without a word, his focus split between holding the effect and watching for an opening.

  The water came for him in a coiling lash. Dodging was no longer an option, not without hurting her first. So instead he wrapped his palm in Refined Mana Strikes and caught it.

  Searing cold bit into his skin instantly. The pressurised edge sawed at the top layer of his Stoneskin, sending a sharp tingle through his hand.

  He turned his grip, redirecting the strike wide before it reached his face, and caught Maddie’s wrist. One firm twist and she staggered off to the side.

  The fight was not over, however, Jonah was already there to cover her, mace sweeping in a controlled but heavy arc. Voltaic Reflex whispered the warning through Leo’s nerves, and by the time the weapon came down, his footing had freed from the sand. Whether Jonah’s focus had slipped or he’d released it intentionally, Leo didn’t care.

  Satisfied, it was time to end it.

  He dropped low, planting his hands, and swung both legs up and out. His boots cracked against the haft of Jonah’s mace, knocking it wide, then carried the spin through in one smooth motion. The sweep caught Jonah’s legs, dumping the bigger man to the dirt.

  Pushing himself back to his feet, Leo offered them both a hand up.

  “Great work,” he told Maddie first. “You’ve got the aggression down, but your attack patterns are too easy to read. Try working on different rhythms.”

  “You’re just too quick!” Maddie groaned, frowning.

  “You’ll get there with more Agility,” Leo replied, chuckling.

  He turned to Jonah. “Your sand was well timed, but as a knight, you should consider being first in. Classes like Maddie’s work better against opponents already distracted. People will rely on your protection. Nice flank though.” He gave him a cheesy grin and a thumbs up.

  Maddie’s lips curled up in satisfaction at the praise, even with the critique. The fire in her eyes that had made him want to spar with her looked like a wildfire now. Jonah gave a short, understanding nod.

  Seriously though, for having one night of combat these people are more skilled than I thought. Leo mused.

  Leo glanced back at the others waiting their turn.

  “If I didn’t pick you to spar, it doesn’t mean you lack potential,” he called to the group. “Everyone here can become something incredible if you’ve got the patience and the will to work for it. Keep practising for a while. I’ll swing by with pointers. After that, I’ll show you a fight between people at a higher level.”

  A few murmurs went through the crowd, some eyes narrowing with determination, others bright with curiosity.

  He had himself a good group of fighters here.

  From there, Leo helped those he could, in whatever ways came to mind, until he caught sight of Gordon practically vibrating with pent-up energy. The younger man kept scratching at his arms, glancing toward the sparring circle like a starving man eyeing a feast.

  Most of the group looked spent by now, weapons resting loosely at their sides, breathing heavy.

  “Okay, that’s enough practice for today,” Leo called out. “Pacing yourself is just as important as pushing your limits.” He could almost feel the questioning look from Cecelia after that line.

  Waiting until the noise of shifting feet and muttered conversations settled, Leo spoke. “If you want to stick around, I’ll be sparring with Gordon next. You might pick up a few pointers.”

  Gordon didn’t just walk forward—he sprinted, spear in hand, grinning like a kid tearing into a present before dawn. Leo followed at an easy pace, shaking his head. He’d thought he had an enjoyment for fighting, but this guy made him look reserved.

  “Rules?” Gordon asked the moment they were squared up.

  “I’d say until one of us gives up, but I doubt either of us have that in us,“ Leo replied, lips quirking.

  “Then we just fight and see where it goes? No kill shots. Essences?” Gordon asked, returning the grin.

  “If you can make me use them,” Leo winked. “Ready when—”

  Leo didn’t finish. Gordon’s stance shifted, and in the same breath his figure blurred, boots tearing at the dirt as he lunged forward in a sudden burst of speed.

  Leo’s body reacted before his mind had the words. A low heat gathered in his frame as Fuel the Fire bled into his muscles, the faint hiss of steam curling from his shoulders.

  He slipped to the side, letting the spearhead skim past before snapping a counterpunch toward Gordon’s chest.

  The younger man recovered fast, yanking the spear in tight and bracing the haft across his body.

  Knuckles met hardened wood with a sharp crack, the impact jolting through Leo’s arm and sending Gordon skidding back across the dirt.

  Leo was already closing the gap, boots pounding forward, jabs lining up for a barrage.

  Before he could land them, Gordon blurred backward again, some skill snapping him out of reach in the blink of an eye. The younger man set his spear, using its length to keep Leo at bay.

  Leo’s fists hammered at the weapon instead, each strike ringing along the shaft. Even against the spearhead, Iron Repetition ticked upward, the momentum building in his shoulders and arms. Apparently, self-inflicted shallow cuts and bruised knuckles didn’t break the chain.

  Three stacks. Four. Time to strike.

  Heat rolled off him in steady waves, each jab landing heavier than the last. Gordon’s grip faltered for the first time, the younger man bracing harder to hold the spear steady. Leo kept the rhythm tight, letting the pressure mount until Gordon’s focus was locked on blocking the barrage.

  Then, without breaking tempo, he shifted his stance and drove a Powerful Haymaker into the shaft. The force rattled down the weapon, knocking it wide.

  Leo surged forward, anticipating the younger man’s retreat—and he took the bait.

  His skill carried him back a few paces, but Leo matched him with the enchantment on his boots, a sudden forward burst closed the gap before Gordon had his footing.

  The younger man was still recovering when Leo’s fist stopped a hair from his jaw.

  “Good fight,” Leo said, eyes dropping briefly. Gordon’s free hand hovered at Leo’s stomach, lightning coiled around his fingers like a blade.

  “That was so much fun. We’ve got to do that more often,” Gordon said with a grin that hadn’t dimmed. “Didn’t even get you to use your Essence skills.”

  “I used at least one,” Leo replied, throwing in a wink.

  “I didn’t expect you to coat yourself in lightning, I figured you could only use that on the spear.”

  “I was saving that for when you brought out those glowing fists, Mana Strikes, right? My skill says I can coat a weapon in lightning, so I figured, why not my hand?”

  Leo nodded in approval, then glanced toward the edge of the circle. A mix of awe and unease painted the onlookers’ faces. Someone muttered, "I can't imagine ever being on that level.”

  Cecelia stepped from the shadowed edge, her applause drawing everyone's attention. More joined in.

  “Great fight, both of you,” she said warmly. “Gordon, I didn’t know you had that much skill. I could see you leading your own group someday.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do whatever I can to help,” he replied sincerely.

  Cecelia took the center, her gaze sweeping the group. “The reason I asked Leo to find willing fighters is that I plan to lead an excursion to a dungeon tomorrow. It’s a localised zone with a different type of monster. Beasts. You can earn armour, experience, and Store Credits there.”

  She let the promise hang for a moment before continuing. “The dungeon allows a maximum of five per group. This time, there will be two groups. The first will be myself, Bjorn, Ron, Amy, and Marco.”

  Marco’s head snapped up, a surprise plain on his face.

  “Please step forward,” Cecelia prompted.

  He nervously obeyed, clearly unsure.

  “I look forward to seeing more of what you showed me today,” she told him. “You have incredible potential. Do you accept?”

  “Uh, sure. I guess,” Marco said.

  She nodded. The second group will be our newcomers: Nolan, Gordon, Jules, Morgan, and Maddie.”

  Maddie gasped and stepped forward. “Thank you! I won’t let you down.”

  “I’ll introduce you to Nolan and Jules,” Gordon said, patting her on the shoulder.

  “Excellent. The rest of you, keep working hard. There will be plenty more fights ahead and plenty of chances to grow stronger. This tutorial is just beginning.”

  Everyone began drifting away, some toward food, others back to practice or quiet conversation, but the thought stuck with him. Tomorrow, most of the best fighters will be gone for at least a day.

  Outside, he glanced around at the attempts at blockades, the crafters working under the fading light, and the few lower-level fighters still lingering. It wasn’t just a camp anymore. It was a target, one filled with tantalising riches.

  Leo wouldn’t let these people become prey for malicious intent again, not if he could help it. Today was that first step in doing so.