Two months after the chaos, we were deep into training—ready to face whatever came next. Time was our ally, and with our incredible stats, nothing would hold us back.
We were currently on the lowest floor of the sprawling twenty-story training facility, immersed in martial arts under the guidance of seasoned instructors. Silat, karate, kung fu—you name it, we were doing it, all aimed at making us stronger, faster.
pant pant pant "Again, Michael! I'm not ready to quit yet!" I grunted, pushing myself up.
"That's the spirit! Let's go!" Michael charged at me, his fist glowing with a fierce light blue aura aimed straight at my chin.
I dodged just in time, stepping back as he advanced. Quick as lightning, I executed an axe kick, a maneuver straight from our karate training.
"You're still a bit too green; I knew you'd do that," he taunted, launching a sweep kick with blinding speed. All I could see was the afterimage of his leg before I hit the ground hard.
As I lay there, staring up at the stark white walls of the training room, I couldn't help but feel the frustration simmering inside me. I had improved, but I was still nowhere near Michael's level in hand-to-hand combat.
"I've lost. Good match, Michael," I admitted, getting back on my feet. "You're pretty good."
"Your judgment is solid. In a few months, our fights will get more interesting. Maybe then I can start using flow arts," he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Ah, yes, flow arts. I needed to ask Michael a couple of questions. Specifically, how to develop my own unique flow art. I had a hazy memory of one called the Flow Slasher Art, but it was just a whisper in my mind.
"Michael, when we take a break, can I run some questions by you?"
"Yeah, sure! Bring your friend Hadal along too." Speaking of Hadal, where was he? I scanned the room, looking for him.
To my right, I spotted two recruits engaged in hand-to-hand combat, one of whom was Hadal facing off against another lance corp freshie.
"Wow, Hadal is doing well," Michael remarked, surprise coloring his tone. "I suppose it's expected after learning about how talented you both are."
"Or maybe it's because he isn't going against a student at the level of a lance corp instructor." I smirked, and Michael laughed at my cheeky comment. However, my attention remained on Hadal and his opponent, who appeared to be evenly matched.
"Look at them. No matter what kick, punch, or grapple they throw, they defend against it easily," I said.
"They seem to be quite equal, Michael."
"Yup, but I'd say your friend is about to lose."
"Really? Aren't they evenly matched? How could he possibly lose?"
Michael pointed toward Hadal. "Take a closer look at your friend's condition."
As I squinted, I noticed the bruises on Hadal's arms from blocking kicks and the sweat pouring down his face. It was clear he was tiring.
The other recruit was more refined in his approach. He dodged blows with agility, conserving energy. Suddenly, he became aggressive, pushing Hadal into a corner. And just like that, he executed the same axe kick I had used moments ago, sending Hadal crashing to the ground.
"Michael, that guy is strong! Who is he?"
"That's Jason Mendez, our newest recruit and a rising star at Shalu Academy."
Mendez? He must be from Mexico. I noted his light brown eyes, tanned skin, and dark hair.
"Good match, man," Hadal said as he extended a hand.
But Jason only glanced at Hadal's hand before turning away, striding off without a word.
I wondered why he did that. Was he antisocial, or did he look down on Hadal?
The bell rang, signaling lunch hour—a perfect opportunity to corner Michael with my questions.
As I walked over to Hadal, I asked, "Did you do something to make him angry?"
He shook his head, confusion etched on his face. We were both puzzled by Jason's behavior, but he wasn't the main focus of my mind right now.
I was eager to ask Michael more questions about the course.
Ten minutes later, Hadal, Michael, and I were seated on the patio just outside the Lance Corporation building, enjoying the jollof rice and chicken Michael insisted we try.
"So, Michael, can you tell us more about the training we're getting into?" I asked, eager for details.
"Well, you guys already know about the combat course," he began. "But you lads will also be practicing stealth arts, basic aetherglyphs, and sword arts."
"What kind of sword arts will we be practicing?" Hadal chimed in between mouthfuls of jollof.
"You'll be training in the Kintaré family's Ikakalaka sword art, I believe," he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
Hadal nearly choked. "Hold on, we're going to practice the Kintaré family's sword art?"
I shrugged, confusion washing over me. "Is it really that big of a deal?"
Hadal spun around, almost choking again. "Yes! They're one of the most prominent sword families in all of New Africa, widely respected for their contributions during the Invader War hundreds of years ago."
"Great... another piece of history I don't know," I sighed. "But moving on, Michael, what do you mean by stealth arts?"
"Oh right, that's what you boys will primarily train in for now, especially since you have something important coming up," he explained. "And for this training, we'll be using the Kage Clan's world-renowned secret stealth arts."
"The same ones that allow them to infiltrate any country with ease and gather information?" Hadal whispered, shock evident in his voice.
"Dude, relax. You're going to choke if you don't calm down," I said, snickering while trying to hold back my laughter.
"But why the Kage Clan? What are we using their arts for? I assume it's to protect us if we need to run, but won't other general stealth arts work?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but you guys are doing this because you're going to become—" Just then, a newspaper imbued with flow energy crashed into the back of Michael's head. We looked up to see Chioma, arms crossed and annoyance written all over her face.
"Yes, you fool. You aren't supposed to tell!" She glanced at us, her expression shifting. "You two, it's time to see the Madam in the boardroom. She has something important to discuss with you."
We obediently followed Chioma to the boardroom, which was filled with members of the Lance Corp group. They were seated in matching uniforms, all adorned with the Lance emblem.
Chioma led us to some seats in the back, where we settled in. The room was dark and eerie, the air thick with anticipation.
Suddenly, Angela strode to the front of the room, documents in hand, and clapped her hands to signal the projector to turn on.
"As you all know, we have taken in new recruits to join us in Lance Corp. The new recruits are now two months deep into their training and have shown significant progress."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some confused, others curious about what was coming next. Then, a voice broke the chatter. A man stood up and saluted before speaking.
"Ma'am, we're still confused about what you're trying to say. It feels a bit cryptic."
The crowd murmured in agreement. I felt the same way; Angela's words were vague, and I couldn't grasp what she was leading up to.
"Since you want to rush me, so be it. In eight months' time, we are sending spies on a mission to North Africa to investigate reports of possible dark flow arts being used," she announced.
I was taken aback. I knew Lance Corp was a spy organization, but I never imagined it would involve me personally. I thought they were here to protect me and Hadal, but part of me was thrilled at the idea. The thought of being a sitting duck didn't sit well with me.
"How will we determine who's worthy of being on the team? Will it be through progress reports?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around it.
Angela scoffed. "We all know by now that practice means nothing in a real-life and death situation. The North Africa mission is going to be significant, and before that, we'll have smaller missions to gauge your potential and see if you truly have a place on the team."
As the meeting wrapped up, we all left the hall in an orderly fashion. Usually, I'd be shocked beyond belief, but this time, I was hyped. Finally getting some action instead of being prey felt exhilarating, especially since I believed this could lead to answers about what happened that day in the Greenlands.
"Hadal."
"Yeah?" he replied, glancing at me.
"We're getting on that team, by any means possible."