Rescue mission

After following Marcus back to the training grounds, Dylan and Jake resumed their rigorous drills. The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the field as their weapons clashed against each other, sweat dripping from their brows. Hours passed, the intensity of the training pushing their limits.

Then, suddenly, Marcus raised his hand.

“Stop!” His voice rang out across the field.

The recruits immediately halted, catching their breath as silence settled over them.

Marcus turned his gaze toward Mason, Dylan, Jake, and Tyler. “You four—come here.”

Without hesitation, they stepped forward, forming a straight line before their superior. Meanwhile, Noah, who had been observing from a distance, turned and made his way back toward the city walls.

Marcus folded his arms. “It seems the carriage carrying the adventurers we were expecting today has gone missing. They’re not far, but they’ve been sighted inside the forest, near the outer walls. We need you to locate them and bring them back safely.”

Mason straightened. “Sir, yes sir!”

Dylan nodded. “Understood!”

Jake placed a fist over his chest. “At your orders, sir!”

Tyler clenched his fist. “Yes sir!”

Without wasting another moment, they turned to prepare. Donning their real gear—actual weapons and reinforced armor instead of training equipment—they made their way toward the city gates. As they approached, the massive iron doors groaned open, revealing the vast wilderness beyond.

Stepping outside Silivia’s protective walls, the four soldiers took in the sight of the looming forest ahead. The dense canopy stretched far, casting eerie shadows despite the midday light.

Dylan exhaled. “Well, at least this is a change from routine…”

Jake adjusted his grip on his weapon. “Yeah, but it’s still a duty. We can’t mess around.”

Mason, always focused, marched ahead. “Less talking. More moving. Every second we waste, the danger to the adventurers increases.”

Without hesitation, Tyler followed, keeping pace with Mason as they pressed forward into the forest.

Dylan crossed his arms, watching them go. “…The favorite.”

Jake scoffed. “Yeah… Not just in training, but even in assignments like this?”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “No. What are you thinking?”

Dylan smirked. “We take another path. If we find the adventurers before them, we’ll shut up Marcus’s little favorite once and for all.”

Jake hesitated, glancing at the dense forest. “Splitting up doesn’t sound like a good idea… We could die out there.”

Dylan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Relax! We’re trained for damage—we aren’t just simple guards, we’re combat guards! Even if we’re still in training, if we pull this off on our own, we’ll prove we’re real soldiers.”

Jake bit his lip, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then, as he watched Mason and Tyler disappearing into the trees, something in him shifted. He turned to Dylan and, after a moment of silence, nodded with determination.

“Let’s do this.”

With a grin, Dylan extended his hand, and Jake met it in a firm dap, the sound echoing loudly around them.

A voice suddenly interrupted.

“Great dap, boys! I’m sure the skeletons of the adventurers will love to hear and see your so good daps!”

Both turned sharply to see a guard standing atop the city walls, smirking down at them.

Jake’s face burned with embarrassment, but Dylan only grinned wider, taking the remark as a compliment.

Jake sighed. “Let’s just go, Dylan.”

Without another word, he turned and started moving toward a different path, veering away from where Mason and Tyler had gone. Dylan followed eagerly, the thrill of competition and opportunity fueling his every step.

Without wasting time, Marcus sent Dylan and Jake straight back to training.

This time, however, it was different.

Marcus wasn’t just watching from the sidelines—he was going to train them personally. And it wasn’t going to be easy.

The two recruits barely had time to catch their breath before Marcus stepped onto the training field, facing them directly. Though they wouldn’t be using real swords, the strategy, intensity, and danger were meant to simulate a real battle. Marcus wanted them to understand exactly what combat felt like—what it *truly* meant to fight for their lives.

And they were about to experience just how outmatched they really were.

### **Meanwhile…**

Outside the walls, the mission had concluded.

The guards and adventurers who had ventured into the forest began returning, marching through the gates with heavy expressions. At the front of the group, Mason and Tyler moved with purpose, heading straight toward Marcus.

As soon as they reached him, Marcus paused the brutal training session, giving Dylan and Jake a moment of much-needed respite—though neither could stop gasping for air.

Mason and Tyler stood tall before their superior.

Mason looked completely unharmed. Tyler, though still in good condition, bore a few scratches—nothing serious.

Mason spoke first. “We found the carriage, sir! But unfortunately, all adventurers inside have perished. Some were dead inside the carriage, while two were found lifeless outside. The skeletons killed them all—including the horse.”

Marcus exhaled, his expression remaining unreadable. “Understood. It’s a shame, and truly unfortunate, but you both did well. If you continue down this path, you’ll soon be promoted to low-rank guardsmen.”

Mason and Tyler saluted.

Behind them, Dylan and Jake—still catching their breath—exchanged glances before muttering under their breath.

“…Favorite…”

Marcus’s sharp gaze flickered toward them, but he said nothing.

With no further delay, Mason and Tyler returned to their drills, and Marcus resumed his relentless assault on Dylan and Jake.

Time blurred as their battle dragged on for hours.

Others came and went—soldiers leaving on assignments, adventurers setting out for new missions, guards rotating shifts—but Marcus *never* stopped.

For Dylan and Jake, there was no escape.

They were granted only brief, agonizing breaks before being thrown back into the fight. Their bodies ached. Their muscles screamed. Their reflexes dulled with exhaustion. But Marcus kept pushing.

Kept teaching.

Until—

“Enough.”

A voice interrupted the session.

Noah approached, having been observing from the side for quite some time. She crossed her arms, glancing at Dylan and Jake, both barely standing, before turning to Marcus.

“Don’t you think they should rest for more than five minutes every forty minutes?”

Marcus frowned. “No. I’m training them to face real battles.”

Noah shook her head. “Then take them into a real battle.”

Marcus blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Noah said. “Take them outside. Let them face an actual fight. When they start struggling, then you assist. That way, they see what a real battle looks like. Feel its intensity. But with you there, they’ll be safe.”

Marcus hesitated.

It wasn’t a bad idea. But…

“It’s difficult to find anything under level 120,” he admitted after a moment. “Ever since the explosion of darkness—the Demon King’s rise—all monsters have grown stronger under the influence of demons. And on that same day…” His expression darkened. “We lost 98% of our adventurers. From the strongest to the weakest.”

Noah’s gaze softened.

Marcus exhaled. “The idea is solid, but I’m only level 176.”

Silence.

Then—

Dylan and Jake, still doubled over from exhaustion, suddenly snapped their heads up.

Their tired brains barely processed what he just said.

“Only level 176?”

They stared at him.

“ONLY?!”