Chapter 1

Lark had just finished his daily mana training when he received news that the Mason wished to see him. Wiping the sweat off his brows, he half-emptied the flask on the table and went down to the mansion's hall. Silver Claw, the man in-charge of all the construction works in town, was already waiting for him there. The man immediately went straight to the point upon seeing Lark. "Young Master," said the Mason. "The Training Hall's been finished." Lark whistled, "That's fast. I thought it'll take a week more?"

The Mason grinned, "That's what I thought too. But you see, we've been receiving a lot of immigrants lately from Lion City. The population of this town's growing and it's becoming easier to find laborers for these tasks."

Lark was aware of this. Being an exporter of wheat in a time when the Black Famine had just struck the Kingdom surely made an impact. The rumors of how he drove back a Legion of Beastmen was quickly spreading in the Main Land. Although majority of people did not believe it, it was still enough to spread Lark's name far and wide. Those who seek new possibilities and opportunities grabbed this chance to start anew in Blackstone Town. Each week, every time the merchants arrived, the population of the town would increase by the dozens. The recently finished Training Hall was near the southern border, just fifteen minutes away from the Poultry Farm. When Lark and the Mason arrived, there were still several laborers inside. Some were carrying unused wood, while some carried saws and hammers. Lark looked around the Training Hall. It somehow reminded him of the temples located in the suburbs of the Magic Empire. The floor was paved and several stone pillars surrounded the arena at the center. These pillars served not as supporting structures, but instead as mediums for the magic arrays spread all throughout the entire hall. Above, the sun seeped through the large gaping hole of the wooden roof directly above the arena. Following Lark's design, the Mason ordered his men to carve these peculiar symbols on the pillars before filling the grooves with gold and ormatane dust. On top of the stone pillars were kalrane stones, each of them positioned strategically to absorb light during the day and emit it during the night, making the Hall functional at any time. Lark moved around and inspected the magic formations engraved inside the pillars. After some time, he nodded and said, "There's hardly any defects.

This should be good enough for now."

Although it was not perfect, it was enough to serve its purpose. Lark planned to use this Training Hall to boost the overall might of his army. "Summon Anandra and the Blackstone Soldiers," said Lark. "Tell Gaston to bring all the humanoids here too, while you're at it."

"You heard the Young Master," said the Mason to one of his men. "Go."

After several minutes, around a hundred men entered the Training Hall.

Most of them looked around in curiosity, their eyes specifically glued to the symbols engraved on the stone pillars. "The Blackstone Soldiers greet the Young Master," said Anandra. He immediately made his salute upon eye contact. Behind him, the other soldiers followed suit. Lark nodded in approval of this. He looked at the open door of the Training Hall and saw Gaston and the humanoids as they arrived. "Just in time," said Lark. "Perfect."

After gathering everyone, Lark led them towards the arena. "Anandra," said Lark. "Young Master?" said the man with the golden hair. "How's the training of the soldiers?" "Most of them have gotten used to the basics of the spear. I can confidently say that they wouldn't lose easily even against the soldiers from Lion City." This was good news. Lark did not expect everyone to become masters of the spear in just a few months, but at the very least, he wanted them to grasp the basic movements of the spear. He wanted them to master the basics of thrust, pull, and cut. Aside from training the basic movements, the Blackstone Soldiers also never neglected stamina training. Just like when they first started, everyone was still required to run a set amount of distance while carrying a spear. "Listen," said Lark. Everyone's eyes fell on him. "I'm sure you've all realized this by now after battling with the beastmen." He paused. "The battlefield is far different from your everyday training. The basic movements we are trying to engrave into your bodies can help you only until a certain extent."

The Blackstone Soldiers stiffened. Although two months had passed since the invasion of the beastmen, everything was still vivid in their minds.

None of them could refute the Young Master's statement. Indeed, during a real life-or-death battle, there are no set rules. The basics of the spear could help them only until a certain extent. "What everyone needs right now is experience," said Lark. "And for that, I created this Training Hall."

Lark pointed at Captain Qarat, the second-in-command of the soldiers of Blackstone Town. "This Hall is built with the purpose of increasing the regenerative capacities of those inside. We could even convert it into an infirmary during times of war. Captain, use that short sword on your waist and cut your arm in this place."

Everyone was puzzled. Even Captain Qarat hesitated. "It's fine." Lark's voice was imposing. "Do it."

A bit hesitant, Captain Qarat pulled out the short sword and made a deep cut on his arm. He flinched. Blood profusely dripped down the ground. "Now, focus," said Lark. "Will the wounds to close on its own. Imaging that this entire Hall is going to heed your instructions."

Despite its peculiarities, Qarat followed Lark's words. He closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might. To everyone's surprise, the symbols on the pillars glowed, and particles of light started forming next to Qarat's wound. After several seconds, the wound closed on its own. Qarat heard the gasps of surprise from his fellow soldiers. Upon opening his eyes, he was stunned speechless upon realizing that the wound was gone. Lark raised five fingers. "Five times. Judging by the amount of mana in your body, you can probably do it again for five more times. Of course, bigger wounds will consume a lot more mana, while the smaller ones will use less."

Qarat opened and closed his mouth, trying to find his voice. When he eventually did, he asked, "I… I used Healing Magic?"

His voice was almost a whisper, but everyone heard it. Lark nodded. "That's right. The same is applicable to anyone else inside this Hall. The pillars surrounding you will serve as mediums and will help you cast the lowest grade of healing magic. The only limitation is the amount of mana within your bodies."

The words that came out of the Young Master's mouth was absurd, since healing magic was one of the most coveted spells. Even the weakest Healers would easily find a job in the Capital. "Silver Claw, the wooden spears?" said Lark.

"They're in the storage room of this Training Hall," said the Mason. "Bring them over here."

"As you wish."

The Mason and his men started handing out wooden spears to all of the soldiers. Lark cleared his throat. "When you train inside this arena, all wounds inflicted on you will be healed as long as you have enough mana. Grab this chance to hone yourselves."

Lark tossed a wooden spear to one of the humanoids Gaston brought. Upon seeing this, several soldiers realized what the Young Master was implying. "These guys will be your sparring partners." Lark pointed at the humanoid creatures. "Despite their appearance, they're far stronger than your average beastman."

One of the soldiers gulped. He voiced his concerns out loud. "Although they'll be using wooden spears… wouldn't we die if we get a direct hit?"

If what the Young Master said was true – that these guys were stronger than a beastman – then taking a direct hit even from a wooden spear could be fatal. "It's fine." Lark smiled. "I've ordered these guys to use only a fraction of their strengths for now. Basically, they'll be matching the strength of their opponents. The difficulty will increase only once you guys get used to these mock battles."

Everyone realized the effectiveness of this training regimen. Even if they were pummeled to the ground, they would not suffer casualties as long as they were inside this arena and as long as they have enough mana. This way, they would gain battle experience from fighting stronger opponents without the risk of being injured or killed in training. "There are nine sparring partners available." Lark referred to the humanoid creatures. "Qarat, pick nine soldiers."

Qarat saluted. Soon, nine soldiers entered the arena. They gripped their wooden spears tight, their eyes vigilantly gazing at the unmoving humanoids at the center of the arena. Looking intently at the humanoids, the soldiers realized how long their opponents' arms were, and how much of a huge advantage it would be for them.

"H-Hey, isn't this… unfair?" One of the soldiers spat. But before another one of them could complain, Lark sent out the signal to start. "Begin!" said Lark. On cue, the humanoids started locking on to their targets. With their long arms, the reach of their spears almost doubled. The startled soldiers tried blocking their attacks, but each of the humanoids' strikes carried great weight, making their arms numb from impact. Soon, the difference between the two groups became evident. In less than two minutes, the spears of the soldiers were sent flying. They were struck by their opponents at the abdomen, sending them flying then rolling on the ground. One of the soldiers vomited blood. Seeing this, the rest of the soldiers spectating the fight shivered. Were they supposed to fight those things to gain battle experience?

"Y-Young Master?" said one of the soldiers. "Hmm?" Lark quizzically looked at the pallid man. "You told us that those things are going to use only a fraction of their strength?" The soldier's voice trailed off. In their eyes, it did not seem to be the case. "That's right," said Lark, as though it was the most obvious thing. "If those guys used even half their strength, everyone in that arena would have been dead by now."

After all, each of them was made from the fragmented essence of a Calamity Class Monster. After hearing the Young Master's statement, the Blackstone Soldiers began fearing for their lives. Even if this arena permitted them to use healing magic, a single mistake by those humanoids may cost them their lives. They were also not immune to the excruciating pain of having their flesh and bones torn to shreds after every spar. Lark was aware of the thoughts running through everyone's minds – it was fairly obvious upon seeing their faces. "You may think this is torture, but believe me," said Lark. "You'll thank me for this after a few years. This is a lot better than dying like a dog in the battlefield."

Several soldiers groaned. Lark chuckled. His eyes swiveled towards the Arena. The defeated soldiers were still sprawled on the ground. "Hey! Did you forget?" shouted Lark. "Use Healing Magic!"

It was only now that the defeated soldiers remembered that this special area permitted them to use healing spells of the lowest rank. They concentrated with all their might, determined to heal their broken bones and torn flesh. Like before, the symbols on the pillars glowed and particles of light gathered on their wounds. After some time, the pain disappeared. The soldiers started standing up one by one. "Since you've healed yourselves, let's start with the next round." Like a demon, Lark ordered the humanoids to prepare for another round of battle.

"We'll continue this until you run out of mana." Everyone who heard this shivered. They did not know that the Young Master was a demon when it came to training the soldiers. Running around the mansion's hall three hundred times was better than this. "Experience is the best teacher, right?" Lark devilishly grinned. "We'll drill into your bodies what a real battlefield is like."

After a short pause, Lark said, "Second round. Begin!"