Day One
My first day as a cadet in The Bastion. All soldiers live in dormitories, most of them paired up in dyads. But I was lucky enough to have a room to myself—and a double bed, no less.
The day starts early—5:00 AM sharp. The wake-up bell echoes through the dorms, giving cadets exactly five minutes to report to the barracks courtyard. Anyone who fails to show up in time earns a penalty. (I still don't know what the penalty is, but judging by how terrified even the veterans looked , I don't want to find out.)
Luckily, my years as a lumberjack made waking up the least of my problems.
At 5:30, endurance training begins in the Arena of Trials—a brutal testing ground where recruits, and even seasoned soldiers, push their limits. Here, combat skills are honed, teamwork is forged, and weaknesses are mercilessly exposed.
And how do we kick things off?
A 10-kilometer run around The Bastion's perimeter.
(Seriously, WHO THE HELL RUNS 10 KILOMETERS AT 5:30 WITHOUT BREAKFAST!?!?)
As if that wasn't bad enough, we move straight into strength conditioning:
Push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, squats, and burpees—until our muscles scream for mercy.
Combat stance training—because apparently, even standing needs to be mastered. Footwork, balance, weapon handling—the whole deal.
By the time we finish, I'm convinced my body is about to give up on life.
Then, at 7:00 AM, breakfast—or so I thought.
Before we eat, we're given a mandatory lecture on nutrition and how it affects battle efficiency.
(EVEN DURING BREAKFAST, I HAVE TO LISTEN TO SOMEONE YAPPING ABOUT CARBS, PROTEINS, AND "OPTIMAL PERFORMANCE" BULLSHT!)*
Finally, we get to eat. The meals are carefully designed to replenish energy for the day's intense training. Not exactly a feast, but right now, anything tastes like heaven.
After that, we get some free time until 11:00 AM, when we report to the Command Chamber for history and strategy classes. This is where we study past wars, analyze monster anatomy, and learn battlefield tactics.
Because knowing exactly how I'll be torn apart by a Chaos Beast is apparently just as important as learning how to fight it.
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With some free time on his hands, Reynar dragged himself straight to his dormitory.
Door creaks open.
"Oof, my day is absolute sh*t."
The moment Reynar stepped inside, he collapsed onto his double bed, face-first.
For someone who had spent years working as a lumberjack, enduring the harshness of the wilderness, he thought he had a decent level of endurance. But The Bastion had a way of humbling even the toughest recruits. Running ten kilometers before sunrise? Brutal. A seemingly endless circuit of push-ups, pull-ups, squats, and burpees? Pure torture. And to top it off, even breakfast came with an unsolicited lecture about the importance of nutrition in battle.
Despite his exhaustion, Reynar's mind refused to rest. Questions gnawed at him—the shadowed figure, the mystery surrounding his parents. Was he really meant to find something, or someone?
Eris and Freya had mentioned that the spell he had witnessed was beyond even S-rank warriors. But what did that even mean?
"What the f*ck is an S-rank warrior, anyway?" he muttered.
"It's a title given to those who achieve immense power."
A voice.
From the door.
Someone had stepped inside his room.
Reynar's entire body tensed. His exhaustion vanished in an instant.
"WHAT THE F*CK?!"
He sprang off the bed, heart pounding, eyes locking onto the unexpected visitor.
Reynar's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the intruder. A woman stood at the doorway, her presence as imposing as it was unexpected.
She was tall, with a lean yet muscular build that could put most warriors to shame. Her black hair was slightly messy, falling just past her shoulders, framing a face marked by freckles and sharp eyes that held a mix of amusement and quiet intensity.
But what truly caught his attention—what made his stomach drop—was the defined set of abs she casually revealed as she lifted her shirt just enough to scratch at her stomach. Her body was carved from pure discipline, the kind of strength earned through relentless training.
She didn't seem the least bit fazed by his reaction. If anything, there was the faintest flicker of amusement in her expression.
In Reynar's head, there was only one thought:
SO DAMN SEXY. AND WHAT A BODY, AND HER FACE, AND HER HAIR, AND HER SKIN... AND...
"Your nose is bleeding, you know," the woman's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Reynar had gotten so excited, his nose had started bleeding.
"Oh, crap," he muttered, quickly grabbing a piece of paper to wipe up the mess.
"Well, can I ask… who are you, and what are you doing here?"
"I'm Maria. I'm an initiate, and this is my room."
"???... But this is MY room!"
"Yeah, the cadet dorms were full when you arrived. After I heard you one-shotted Dain, I volunteered to share my room with you."
"So the double bed was…?? WAIT, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!"
"Shut up, you're too noisy."
"So, you're telling me a man and a woman can just… share a room? Shouldn't that be banned?" Reynar crossed his arms, his brows knitting together.
Maria rolled her eyes. "Banned? This isn't some prissy school—it's a military camp. Nobody cares what men and women do in their quarters. And trust me," she added with a smirk, "half the soldiers here are already f*cking each other."
Reynar's mouth opened, then closed. "Oh… right. Yeah, I guess you have a point."
"Anyway," Maria said, stretching her arms, "I'm going for a bath." Without hesitation, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
Reynar's eyes widened. "Wait! What the hell are you doing?!"
She paused, shirt halfway off. "What? I can't bathe with my clothes on, newbie."
"That's not—" He spun around, heat creeping up his neck. "WHY are you stripping in front of me?!"
Maria tilted her head, then grinned. "What?..... Ohhh, I get it. You're a virgin."
A dagger of pure humiliation stabbed straight through Reynar's chest.
A lusfull smile spread across her face. "Don't tell me you've never seen a woman naked before. Or…" She leaned in, voice dripping with mock suspicion. "Are you some kind of pervert?"
Reynar bolted off the bed and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. His face burned like a furnace.
"What the hell?! I have to live with her now?" He dragged a hand down his face. "And one bed—not two, but a double?! Well, its not that….. i have a problem"
For a brief, traitorous moment, the corner of his mouth twitched upward—
SLAP
He smacked his own cheeks. "Get a grip. I'll sleep on the damn floor."
Needing air, Reynar stalked off to explore the training camp, his mind racing faster than his heartbeat.
The midday sun glared overhead as the clock struck 12:30. Classes at the Command Chamber had finally ended, and Reynar's head throbbed from information overload.
Monster anatomy. Pandora's history. Battle strategy. He massaged his temples as he trudged toward the mess hall. Who knew training would be this brutal?
"What's next…?" he muttered, scanning his mental schedule.
"We have a survival test."
"WHAT THE—?!" Reynar jerked his head toward the voice.
A young man stood beside him. He was lean, with stark white hair and a fitted black uniform—standard initiate attire.
"Mind if I sit here?" the stranger asked, nodding at the empty bench.
Reynar blinked. "Who are you?"
"Ares. Initiate." He slid onto the seat without waiting for permission. "And you're Reynar. The cadet who floored Dain." A smirk tugged at his lips. "Gotta say, that was satisfying. Guy was a bastard."
"He seemed like it," Reynar admitted, though his mind still reeled. "Wait—back up. What's this about a survival test?"
Ares shoveled a forkful of stew into his mouth before answering. "18:00. Cadets and initiates get dumped into Zendia's forests. Objective changes every time—if i remenber well, the previous objective was to retrieve a specific herb."
"Herb?" Reynar scoffed. "How hard could that be?"
"Easy." Ares wiped his mouth. "Unless you count the monsters lurking everywhere."
Reynar's fork clattered against his plate. "You're joking."
"Dead serious. Another Bastion's motto: 'Learn fast or die faster.'"
"And I'm supposed to do this today?"
Ares grinned. "Yep. Better eat up—you'll need the energy."
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The sun hung heavy in the sky as the recruits gathered before the towering gates of the Bastion. A tense silence settled over the crowd, broken only by the occasional shuffle of boots.
At the front stood a grizzled sergeant—tall, broad-shouldered, with a long brown beard and a hat pulled low over his sharp eyes. His voice boomed like thunder.
"Soldiers!" The sergeant's voice boomed across the assembly ground. "Today marks the 127th Survival Raid in Bastion's history"
Reynar nudged the soldier beside him. "Is this test really that special?"
The cadet turned to him with wide eyes. "Are you insane? The Survival Raid only happens every two years! Pass this, and you skip three promotion cycles straight to veteran status.... or two, if you are initiate."
Reynar's eyebrows shot up. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," the soldier muttered, wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. His eyes darted toward the forest line. "But I wouldn't call it luck. More like a death sentence."
Reynar grinned. "Seems I'm blessed. My first day and I could skip three whole ranks?"
The soldier barked a humorless laugh. "Keep joking when you're bleeding out in the mud. For cadets like us?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "The Raid's a meat grinder. Maybe one or two initiates survive each time - and they're usually half-dead when they crawl back."
Sergeant: "The 127th survival raid will take place in Arisoza."
A collective gasp rippled through the ranks. Faces paled. Someone near the back muttered a curse under their breath.
Reynar frowned. Why is everyone acting like we're being sent to the abyss?
A trembling recruit raised a hand. "S-Sergeant… Arisoza? Isn't that too dangerous for recruits?"
The sergeant's glare could've melted steel. "You think monsters care if you're 'too young' to die? The Bastion doesn't coddle the weak. This is war—every test is life or death!" He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Your objective? Hunt down an Aracna."
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!"
Chaos erupted. Some recruits dropped to their knees, others clutched their heads in despair. One began openly sobbing.
Reynar, however, just blinked. Huh. Okay then.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!" The sergeant's voice cracked like a whip, instantly freezing the murmuring crowd. His combat boots crunched gravel as he paced before the trembling recruits. "The Raid operates in six-man teams. You don't choose your brothers - the Bastion does. And when I call your name, you step forward without a godsdamned whimper."
He unfurled a scroll and began calling names.
"Team Alpha: First member—Maria Darcasos."
Maria stepped forward, her posture effortless, her smirk sharper than a blade. Instantly, the recruits erupted again—this time in desperate pleas.
["Please, put me on her team!" / "I'll survive if I'm with her!" / "Sergeant, I beg you—"]
Reynar crossed his arms. "What's the big deal? Is she that strong… or just that sexy?"
Ares, still beside him, snorted. "Strongest initiate in the Bastion."
"Seriously?!"
"Dead serious."
Before Reynar could process that, the sergeant bellowed the next name.
"Second member—Gabriel Azuka."
Gabriel stepped forward, his presence like a storm contained in human form. The recruits lost their minds again.
["The two strongest together?!" / "This is a death sentence!" / "They're rigging it!"]
Reynar's jaw dropped. "Wait, Gabriel's the second strongest?!"
Ares raised an eyebrow. "You know him?"
"…Sort of."
"Third member—Ares Azazel."
Ares sighed. "That's me. Later." He strode off, leaving Reynar gaping as the crowd's despair deepened.
["This has to be a joke." / "We're dead." / "They're stacking the teams on purpose!"]
Reynar turned to the nearby recruit. "Is he, like, the third strongest or something?"
The recruit just groaned.
The sergeant continued, unfazed.
"Fourth member—Reylla Valkyris."
"Fifth member—Sara Matatron."
Two women stepped forward, their presence cutting through the tension like blades.
The first (Sara) had light gray, wavy hair that brushed her shoulders, her golden-yellow eyes gleaming with predatory focus. Her outfit left little to the imagination—a tight black crop-top with a high collar, showcasing sculpted abs that looked like they could deflect arrows. A brown leather harness crisscrossed her chest, emphasizing the hard lines of her shoulders and arms, veins tracing the ridges of muscle like battle maps. Scars, thin and deliberate, marked her skin like trophies.
The second woman (Reylla) stood taller, her snow-white hair cascading down her back in contrast to her own black crop-top, which hugged a torso just as lethally defined. Her loose white pants billowed slightly in the wind, a single black ribbon tied around her wrist the only break in the monochrome.
"Are all the girls in Bastion so sexy?" Reynar's face was like a tomato.
Meanwhile, the other recruits were in full-blown prayer mode.
["Who are they?" / "I think they were the top scorers in their unit, just a little bellow Maria and Gabriel." / "Pick me, pick me!" / "I'll dedicate my life to the gods, just put me in!" / "Sergeant, I'll polish your boots for a year—"]
Reynar didn't care at all. He was busy observing this beautifull sexy bodies.
The sergeant's voice sliced through the noise.
"And the last member…"
["Please…" / "I'll die if it's not me—"]
".....is….."
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"ReynarAragon"
"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?????????"
A stunned silence fell over the crowd. And all the soldiers looked at him
"Oops, that was quite loud"
And then:
[" WHY HIM???"...…. "WHY NOT ME??" "RIGHT, HE SUCKS AT THE CLASSES. I AM BETTER".... "A CADET IN A TEAM FULL OF INITIATES, THAT'S UNFAIR"...."DID HE PAID THE SERGEANT???"]
"Oh my god, stop yapping"
After that, all the soldiers were confused and disappointed. Reynar could feel dozens of eyes burning into his back as he pushed through the ranks - some wide with disbelief, others narrowed in open hostility.
Reynar reached the area where his teammates had gathered, leaving the rest of the recruits to lament their misfortune.
The sergeant motioned for the six to approach.
As they moved forward, Gabriel's voice cut through the air like a blade: "Of all the incompetent cadets, I get stuck with you."
"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you," Reynar shot back without breaking stride.
They formed a tight circle around the sergeant, who studied them with a calculating gaze.
"You're Team Alpha. The team with the highest success and survival rate. And personally speaking, the team I trust the most to succeed."
Ares crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. "So what you're really saying is… we're the strongest."
The sergeant gave a single, firm nod.
Sara - the golden-eyed warrior with the lethal physique - finally spoke up, her voice dripping with disdain: "If we're truly the strongest team… then why is this rookie here instead of Dain?" Her accusing finger pointed directly at Reynar.
But Reynar wasn't listening. His attention had been thoroughly captured by the way Sara's combat gear accentuated her s..xy body.
Maria's sharp voice cut through the discussion. "Because this rookie put Dain down in one move." Her words snapped Reynar's attention back to the conversation.
The white-haired warrior (Reylla) arched an eyebrow. "Did he truly defeat him?"
"He did," Gabriel confirmed, his voice flat. "I witnessed it."
As they debated his capabilities, Reynar turned to the sergeant. "Sergeant? Question."
"Spit it out."
"Why stack all the strongest recruits on one team? Shouldn't we distribute the talent to balance the squads?"
The sergeant's eyes hardened. "Weakness is contagious, cadet. In the Bastion, we don't coddle the feeble by pairing them with their betters." He stepped closer, his shadow looming over Reynar. "True strength grows when surrounded by equals - or better yet, superiors who push you beyond your limits."
At that time,
a squad of stable hands in sweat-stained fatigues approached, leading six battle-ready horses by their reins. These weren't noble steeds, but scarred Bastion workhorses - their coats dull with dust, their muscles knotted from years of service. One grey mare bore fresh claw marks across her flank.
"Team Alpha! Mount up!"
The stable hands released the horses' reins and stepped back as Team Alpha moved to mount up.
Maria didn't even use the stirrup - she grabbed a fistful of mane and vaulted onto her chestnut mare in one fluid motion, her harness creaking as she landed squarely in the saddle.
Gabriel made a show of inspecting his black stallion first - running a gloved hand down its legs, checking the bit, testing the girth strap. Only when satisfied did he mount with deliberate, mechanical precision, his back never bending an inch.
Ares surprised everyone by whistling sharply. His dappled gelding immediately knelt like a trained warhorse, letting him slide into the saddle with ridiculous ease. "What?" he grinned at their expressions. "I bribed the stable boys with liquor last night."
Reylla (white-haired warrior) simply placed a foot in the stirrup... and her massive white stallion lifted her up by itself, its muscles bulging unnaturally. She settled into the saddle without comment.
Sara (golden-eyed) took three running steps and leapt, twisting mid-air to land sidesaddle. The stable hands actually applauded.
Reynar grabbed the pommel and tried to pull himself up. His gelding immediately sidestepped. On the second attempt, the horse actually sighed. Finally, a stable boy had to cup his hands for a boost. From her saddle, Maria smirked. "We'll work on that… if you survive."
The Bastion's gates groaned like a dying beast as they swung open, revealing the sun-bleached path that snaked toward the distant treeline. Reynar's grip tightened on his reins as his eyes traced the road ahead - that same dust-choked trail he'd walked just days ago as a newcomer. But now, the whispering trees seemed to lean closer, their branches like skeletal fingers beckoning.
Something's out there. The thought slithered down his spine. And it knows we're coming.
Behind them, the gates boomed shut with finality, cutting off all retreat. The sound seemed to shake the very air, leaving only the restless stamp of their horses and the too-loud rhythm of his own pulse.
Maria adjusted her harness with a sharp click of buckles. Gabriel checked his blade's edge - once, twice. Ares exhaled through his nose, his usual smirk absent. Even Sara's golden eyes had darkened, her fingers tracing the hilt of her dagger. Only Reyllas remained still as stone, her white stallion scenting the wind.
No speeches. No grand sendoff. Just six souls and the weight of what waited beyond that horizon.
Somewhere in the brooding distance, where the path dissolved into shadow, the Aracna stirred.