Training

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Fifteen or so minutes later, Robert finally saw the troops returning from their lap. They all looked exhausted. Sabas dismissed them, assigning one of his sergeants to take command of training.

"You missed some crucial training," Sabas said, smirking, "but don't worry, I'll do you a favor and give you some one-on-one tutoring."

Robert could already tell that today was going to be rough. "How long is this going to take? I have meetings to attend."

Sabas smiled. "It'll take as long as you make it. So you better get moving. Don't stop until I tell you."

Robert started jogging, quickly noticing Sabas right beside him. "Isn't he supposed to be an officer? What kind of crazy empire did he come from?" he muttered under his breath.

"Huh, I didn't quite catch that," Sabas said, speeding up. "And don't let me pass you. The more laps I'm ahead, the more you'll have to run."

Robert cursed under his breath, picking up the pace but still lagging far behind. Maybe accepting Sabas' offer wasn't the best idea. After finishing the first lap, Robert was struggling, each breath feeling harder than the last.

"Please tell me this is enough. I don't think I can do another," he asked desperately.

"I think you've got at least one more in you," Sabas replied, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. "And don't forget, you were late. Consider this a little punishment."

Robert swore Sabas must've been a devil in a past life. He forced himself to start jogging again, each stride driven by sheer willpower. Halfway through the second lap, his body began to give out, his legs stumbling more often than not. Sabas was catching up, and the last thing Robert wanted was to run another lap.

Summoning every ounce of energy he had left, Robert pushed harder. He felt a sudden surge of adrenaline, and the burning in his chest disappeared for a brief moment. He ran faster than he had ever before, the final stretch just within reach. As soon as he crossed the finish, his energy vanished, and he collapsed to his knees.

Sabas jogged up behind him. "Good job. That was pretty impressive. Take a break—it's not good to overwork your body."

Robert felt like punching him. It was Sabas' fault he had to push himself so hard. Sabas tossed him a water satchel. "We'll meet up in an hour for your strength training."

Robert drank greedily. "Okay, I'll make sure to be on time," he said, barely able to muster the strength to get up. 

He needed to see Thabis before the scout left for the jungle. Saying his goodbyes now was important—tomorrow wasn't guaranteed. As Robert headed toward the storage area, he spotted a group of ten scouts preparing their gear for a long mission. 

Thabis waved at him. "Looks like I caught you just in time," Robert said.

Thabis sighed. "Yeah, another mission. I've only been here for two days, and now I'm leaving again."

Robert felt guilty sending Thabis off for something as simple as a scouting quest. "Are you sure you don't want to take Thronton with you?"

Thabis didn't even let him finish. "No, God, please. I'd rather die. Plus, Thronton doesn't really fit with the team, if you catch my meaning."

Robert understood immediately. While Thronton was a great fighter, he didn't always make the best decisions for the group—he wasn't exactly a team player. 

After a few more moments of preparation, Thabis and the scouts made their way out of the village. Robert watched as he said his goodbyes, especially to Elia. They had been exchanging letters, and Robert could tell Thabis was hoping to return alive and see where their relationship could go—if you could even call it that.

Robert felt a pang of guilt watching him leave, but it was for the greater good, or at least that's what he told himself. With some time left before his next session with Sabas, Robert headed toward the summoning altar. He almost forgot the best part of the day was still ahead.

Ten Northmen stepped out of the altar, and Robert couldn't help but smile. These were his favorite troops, known for their vast agricultural knowledge. They reminded him of Thronton, especially the axes they wielded, though Thronton mostly used a sword.

As he led the Northmen toward the barracks, an idea popped into his head. What if he made a special operations unit with Thronton as their leader? He'd have to ask Sabas first. When he arrived at the barracks, Sabas was already there, waiting with a couple of metal poles.

"Ah, I see you kept your word this time," Sabas said, eyeing the Northmen. "And you brought some fresh meat."

Robert ignored the comment, his gaze fixed on the poles. There was no way those were for him, right?

"By the way, I was thinking about having Thronton lead his own unit. What do you think?"

Sabas stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It's not a bad idea, but we'll need to get him on board with it."

Robert nodded, doing his best to stall. He wasn't looking forward to more personal training. "Well, that's a conversation for later. Shall we start strength training?"

Sabas grinned. "Pick up the pole and swing it a hundred times."

Robert's eyes widened. A hundred times? The poles looked heavy. Not wanting to sound like a coward, he picked one up and started swinging. 

"Oh, and I forgot to mention," Sabas added, "you'll need to thrust it a hundred times as well."

With that, Sabas left with the Northmen, leaving Robert to his task. He wasn't doing this for Sabas or anyone else—he was doing it for his own ego. Every swing was a struggle, the weight of the pole burning through his arms. 

After a few swings, an idea hit him—he could use telekinesis to ease the strain on his muscles. His arms loosened, and the blood flowed more freely. With the help of telekinesis, he managed to finish the hundred swings and moved on to the thrusts. At first, he felt silly, but after a while, he got used to it and increased his speed.

When he finally finished, the pole fell from his hands, and his arms burned. Telekinesis had helped, but it only provided temporary relief from the pain.

He heard random clapping behind him and expected it to be Sabas. Preparing for another round, he picked up the second pole, but it was Eugene instead.

"You've got serious willpower. Most people would have given up after a few dozen swings," Eugene said, attempting to lift one of the poles himself.

"Oh, it's you, Eugene. I thought you were Sabas for a second. What brings you here?" Robert asked, curious.

"James and I have been working on ways to use all the wood we've been gathering."

Robert blanked for a second, the only thought coming to mind was trading it at the Lord's marketplace. "Just store it somewhere for now. I'll think of something."

Eugene nodded but looked a little embarrassed. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Ask away," Robert replied.

Eugene hesitated. "Have you had any luck with the women in the village?"

Robert was shocked to hear such a question from Eugene, whom he thought of as an old grandpa figure. "No, I don't really care about that."

Eugene laughed awkwardly. "I only ask because, with the shortage of women, it's been hard to find a partner."

"Right..." Robert said, not believing a word. "Well, I'm going to talk to Sabas. Maybe he knows more than me."

Eugene sighed. "There's no point. Have fun training."

He walked away, disappointed. Robert shook his head, surprised. That was one of the most awkward conversations he'd ever had.

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