The remaining recruits began to retreat, fear slowing them. They couldn’t look away from the gore dripping from the Wanderer’s hands. But he wasn't finished.
His frame began to vibrate, static rising from his skin. Arcs of lightning flickered across his shoulders. He lunged toward the next recruit, his fist glowing with a lethal surge of reinforced magic.
Before the blow could land, a shadow eclipsed him. Valak appeared as if he had stepped through the air itself. With a grunt of effort, the Sergeant caught the Wanderer’s wrist, yanking his arm upward. The punch missed its mark, and a bolt of concentrated lightning erupted from his knuckles, illuminating the dark sky above barracks in a flash.
Valak followed up a heavy palm into the center of the Wanderer’s chest, a pulse of counter-magic shattering the Wanderer’s momentum.
The Wanderer went flying, skipping across the sand. He rolled back onto his hands and feet, his muscles coiled like springs. He funneled energy into his legs, the ground beneath his boots exploding in a spray of dirt as he launched himself at Valak again.
Valak’s expression remained unchanged. He channeled his own magic, his hands glowing with red magical flame. He met the Wanderer’s desperate dash mid-air, catching the impact with a jarring thud that echoed off the stone buildings.
The Wanderer hit the ground hard. His vision fractured. The blue light in his eyes flickered, fading into black.
He opened his eyes to the heavy boot of Valak blocking out the sky.
Valak saw the flicker of consciousness and ground his heel down slightly before pulling back and delivering a sharp kick to the Wanderer’s wounded side, sending the wood splinters deeper.
"I gave you two rules," Valak’s voice carried across the silent training ground. "No magic. No killing. You bastard did both."
The Sergeant turned his back on the Wanderer, addressing the recruits. "This is my final warning! The next time one of you violates a direct order, I won't send you to the pits. I’ll end you myself." He glanced at the veterans. "Take this piece of trash to my office."
They dragged him by his collar across the grit, his heels carving shallow ruts in the sand. Then dumped him on the floor of Valak’s office. A room that smelled of whetstones, and stale tobacco. A few minutes later, Valak strode in, the door slamming behind him with the finality of a gavel.
"I had high hopes for you," Valak said, sitting heavily behind a scarred wooden desk. "Your magic capacity is high for a new recruit." His eyes narrowed, reflecting the flickering torchlight. "But you lack discipline. You’re a liability. Using your magic like an animal will only get you poisoned again. You’re being sent to the pits. At least there, your death will entertain someone."
The Wanderer gritted his teeth, forcing himself up from the floor. "I wish to stay."
Valak leaned back, his chair creaking under his bulk. He stared at the Wanderer for a long minute.
"There is a test," Valak finally said. "We hold it once the recruits have stabilized enough to touch the spark. It’s meant to weed out the weak before we waste real mana on them." He leaned forward, his scarred face inches from the Wanderer's. "Prove yourself in that test or die trying. Either way, I’ll be satisfied."
"Follow me," Valak commanded.
They stepped back out into the yard. The night air was biting, Valak roared to one of the veterans. "Gather the meat slabs! Out here, now!"
In minutes, the recruits scrambled into the yard, shivering in their thin sleeping clothes, their eyes wide and bloodshot. They lined up in the dark, a wall of confused and terrified faces illuminated by the flickering orange light of the veterans' torches.
Valak stood in front of them, his thumb hooked into his belt. "This piece of meat right here thinks he deserves a second chance," he said, gesturing toward the Wanderer. "We don't offer those in Draemir. But, as a courtesy to a former comrade, we’ll give him a quick death. You will all watch. One day, you’ll be expected to do the same to the man standing next to you."
He led the way toward a massive, windowless stone structure at the edge of the training grounds. As they approached, a sound began to vibrate through the earth, a primal growling that grew louder with each step.
"Open the door!" Valak shouted.
The heavy iron bolts screeched back. As the doors swung open, the stench of rotting meat and wet fur hit the line of recruits. Three giant hyenas, they had no eyes, their bodies scarred and corded with muscle, lunged toward the sound. They were chained in blackened iron, the chains clanged as they snapped their jaws at the empty air, thick ropes of drool flying from their mouths.
Valak turned to the Wanderer.
"Listen closely, idiot," Valak growled, his voice low enough only for the Wanderer to hear. "You stand still. You do not let your power leak. You take your magic and you drive it in a tight circle around your heart. That is how a Draemiran uses magic. You don't let it float like a pathetic Qi monk waiting for the wind to blow. You bind it. You command it."
Valak stepped back, his hand going to the lever that released the chains. "This piece of advice is the only aid you'll get. Let’s see if you can make it a fair fight."
The heavy iron doors slammed shut, plunging the chamber into a pitch-black. The only sounds were the wet breathing of the beasts and the clinking of their discarded chains.
The Wanderer closed his eyes, ignoring the predatory heat radiating from the circling monsters and focused inward. He reached for his magic, pulling it toward his chest, forcing the mana to swirl in a tight orbit around his heart.
The beasts sensed the shift. Their growls turned into high-pitched whines as they felt the density of his power. But as he began the circulation, the Spiral’s hunger felt the movement. It began to stir, chasing the mana current.
*Push it down,* he told himself. *Control it.*
Suddenly, the stench of rot intensified. He snapped his eyes open to see a wall of yellowed teeth and a jaw dripping with saliva inches from his face. He flinched. The momentary lapse broke his concentration, and the circulation shattered.
The monsters sensed the weakness. The first hyena lunged, its massive weight slamming into him, followed immediately by the other two. He scrambled, jumping and rolling through the cramped space, but the room was too small to outrun three giants. A massive claw pinned his chest to the stone floor, the air rushing out of his lungs. The other two beasts latched onto his legs, their jaws locking as they began to tug, fighting each other for the kill.
Terror surged. Then, a thought cut through the panic: *Stop fighting.*
He reached deep, but this time for the raw hunger that lived in his marrow. He let out a primal roar that rattled the stones of the kennel, his eyes igniting with a fierce, sapphire light.
He stopped resisting the hunger. Instead, he invited it into the circle. He let the hunger guide the mana, his control slipped, his thoughts unraveled.
The mind was gone, but the flesh remained.
His mana filled his body, muscles tore, grew, twisted in pain would have sent him unconscious… if he was still conscious.
He began circling the hyenas, sensing on instinct for a moment of weakness.
The hyenas shrieked, retreating into the far corner, the largest one found himself cornered, lunged forward slashing with its claws.
He mimicked the assault planting his fingers into the animal's paw, his whole body covered in mana. He continued attacking the animal using his fingers as claws till the animal whined like a hurt puppy.
He stopped and moved closer to the hyena’s face, growling to its face, the hyena bit the air in defense and was met with slaps by his clawed-fingers.
As if the beast recognizes a distant kin, his biting attempts slowly stopped, the tension turned to curiosity.
They found a relative struggling with hunger as they do, they gathered around him rubbing their giant faces into him.
The Wanderer stood up, his magic faded leaving him frail. He sank to the floor, unable to hold himself upright any longer.
The hyenas surrounded him, he stretched a hand petting the large one.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I won't hurt you. I know this is just your nature, I know we are both starving."
When the heavy bolts screeched and Valak threw the doors open.
The Wanderer stepped out into the night air. Behind him, the three giant, blind terrors followed, their heads bowed low, moving with obedience that silenced even the veterans.
Valak stared at him, then at the beasts, his eyes narrowing as he processed what he was seeing.
Before Valak could say anything, the Wanderer fell to the ground seizing.