The Wanderer’s eyes fluttered open in the infirmary. Kuma’s face blurred into view above him.
"He’s awake," Kuma called out in relief.
The Wanderer instinctively tried to sit upright, but his nervous system revolted. Every fiber of his being screamed in agony, the sensation of a thousand hot needles driving him back into the cot. He fell back with a gasp.
"Don’t move," Kuma warned, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You barely made it back."
Valak stepped into his line of sight, his face a mask of grief and gratitude. He took the Wanderer’s hand, his grip trembling. "I don’t know how to repay you, son."
"The pack sticks together, Sarge," the Wanderer rasped, the words scraping against his throat. "You don’t... owe me a thing."
Kuma let out a laugh. "You should have seen Skida’s face after you hit her with that rock. She lost it. She was punching the steel training pillars until her knuckles were raw and the metal was dented. You really got under her skin."
The Wanderer tried to laugh, but the movement sent a spike of fire through his shattered ribs, cutting the sound into a wheeze. They sat in a rare moment of quiet until the heavy infirmary doors slammed open.
Skida marched in, her presence sucking the air out of the room. The squad snapped into a stiff salute, that she ignored them. Herr gaze locked on the Wanderer.
She stood over him, arms crossed. "You won on a technicality," she sighed, though her eyes flickered with a dangerous light. "But a win is a win. I’ll let it slip."
She glanced at the squad. "Your punishment starts the moment he can stand. And you," she looked back down at him, "your training follows immediately after."
"I’ll have to reject that, General," the Wanderer said, his voice gaining a bit of its edge. "I’m satisfied with my own routine."
Skida’s fist was a blur. She caught him squarely in the jaw. "It wasn’t a request, maggot."
The Wanderer spat a glob of blood onto the floor and wiped his mouth. "Can I bring a friend?"
Behind Skida, Kuma’s face went pale. He began waving his hands frantically, mouthing no, no, no with wide, terrified eyes.
Skida caught the movement and glanced over her shoulder at Kuma. "Him?"
The Wanderer nodded. Skida spun on her heel and launched a strike at Kuma’s head. Reacting on instinct, Kuma threw his hands up, mana weaving into a dense, multiple-layered barrier. The air cracked as her fist met the magic.
"Five circles, hmmm?" Skida mused, a predatory grin spreading across her scarred face. "Fine. More maggots to toy with."
Days passed between healing and medication until the Wanderer could finally stay on his feet. The moment he cleared the infirmary, Skida was there. She gathered the squad at the barracks, her grin wider than usual.
"It’s time for your punishment, maggots."
Guards ushered them to the scorched earth just outside the gates of Draemir. The squad was stripped to the waist, their skin pale and vulnerable under the glare of the noon sun. Massive spheres of black iron sat in the dirt, and the guards began shackling the men to them, forcing their chests forward and their arms back until their shoulders threatened to pop from their sockets.
"Enjoy the tan, boys," Skida laughed.
Then the Loose Chain began. The guards stepped forward carrying heavy, rusted chains where every link was welded with razor-wires.
The first strike hit Valak. The sound was a tearing thud. The razors bit deep, hooking into the flesh of his chest and ripping it away in long strips as the guard pulled back. Valak’s scream was short-lived, cut off as he choked on his own breath.
The guards moved down the line with practiced cruelty. Each swing of the chain cut the skin and shattered the ribs beneath, turning the soldiers' torsos into a map of broken bone and weeping red.
The Wanderer felt the first strike. It felt like being branded with liquid fire. The razors dragged across his collarbone, baring the white of the bone beneath. The pain was so absolute it turned the world white. He felt his head roll back, his consciousness slipping into dark.
A bucket of salt-heavy water splashed over his face, snapping him back into the nightmare. The salt burned into the fresh furrows of his chest, a secondary agony that made his muscles seize.
"Stay awake," a guard hissed, pulling the chain back for another pass.
By the time the sun began to dip, the ground beneath the spheres was soaked dark. The heat of the day had baked the blood into a copper-smelling crust on their skin. Their breathing was shallow, hampered by the internal swelling and the weight of the chains.
As night fell, the desert chill set in, turning the wet, raw wounds into freezing points of agony. The soldiers hung from their shackles, barely recognizable as men, just masses of shivering, flayed meat waiting for the morning sun to rise, healers made sure they stay alive then, start the cycle again. Skida watched from the gatehouse, a cup of wine in her hand, taking a sip with each grunt of pain.
The days of the Loose Chain finally ended, leaving the men as hollow silhouettes of their former selves. Their skin was a map of raised scars, and their eyes held the thousand-yard stare of those who had tasted the very bottom of hell.
As they stumbled back toward the barracks, their footfalls heavy and uneven, Valak slowed his pace. He looked at his shaking hands, then at the horizon. "I’ve gotten old," he said, his voice thin. "I think it’s time I retire."
"But we still need you, Sergeant," Kuma said, reaching out to steady him.
Valak shook his head. "I don’t have anything left to teach you. And I’m tired... I don’t think I have another batch of recruits left in me."
One of the younger soldiers looked at him, panicked. "You’re going to leave us behind, Sarge?"
"That cursed mission was meant to be my last day with you," Valak admitted, a flash of regret crossing his weathered face. "I didn't want to break the news until it was over, but you’ve been transferred. You’re joining the Draemir main forces now."
The air grew heavy. The transition from a tight-knit squad to the vast, cold machinery of the Draemir army felt like another punishment.
When they reached the barracks, Valak stopped at the door. "I’ll gather my things and report to headquarters. It’s official."
The squad stood there, broken and bloodied, watching their anchor prepare to leave. Kuma stepped forward, his voice cracking the silence. "Hounds! Salute!"
In unison, the squad snapped their hands to their brows. It was the firmest, most disciplined salute they had ever given. Valak smiled.
"You can always find me if you have a problem," Valak said. "I’ll do what I can. Especially for you, Wanderer. I owe you my life."
The Wanderer gave a slow, respectful node. The squad held their salute, until Valak disappeared into his office and the door clicked shut.
The Wanderer turned to Kuma, his voice a low rasp. "Come on. Let’s get some rest. Skida will be here at first light."
Kuma winced, clutching his head as the reality set in. "I almost forgot. Damn you, Wanderer! Why did you have to drag me into this?"
"Misery loves company," the Wanderer replied.
Kuma let out a long breath, his irritation fading into a grim sort of appreciation. "I know you meant to help me, in your own twisted way. Thank you."
The Wanderer laid a heavy arm on Kuma’s shoulder. "Come on. I could use a year of sleep, but let’s hit the infirmary for something to treat these burns first."
The next morning, the sun hadn't even breached the horizon when Skida burst into their quarters. She kicked both of them off their beds.
"Wake up, maggots!"
They scrambled to their feet. Skida ordered before they suit up."Follow me."
They took one last look at the barracks, watching a new line of ‘meat’ coming in.
They both stood for a moment for the memories.
Skida shouted “move maggots”
She led them away from the standard barracks toward the exclusive training grounds of the Royal Guard, a place of polished stone, high-end weaponry, and an oppressive aura of power.
Skida stopped in the center of the yard and turned to them, her silhouette sharp against the pre-dawn grey. "Today, you begin learning from the best. You should carry this pride until the end of your days." She leaned in, her eyes glinting. "Which might not be very long if you find a way to annoy me today."