Arrogance Contest

The healing mages rushed to the training grounds, carrying the injured one by one to the medical area.

A medic approached Zephyr, but he waved him off and stood up by himself. He wasn't healed yet— he had sustained far too many injuries for that— but he could already feel his body starting to repair itself, so that was not his main concern. The important thing was, he was starving. Healing consumed energy pulled straight from his body, and that energy could only be replenished by eating.

"I… I need food," he whispered to the medic instead.

The commander overheard and burst out laughing.

"Hahaha!"

"Show the boy to the mess hall. He deserves it anyway," he said, then turned his eyes toward the other standing recruits. "They all do."

The medic gave a short nod and began leading the victorious recruits to the mess hall. They had all refused any form of treatment, as they didn't want to eat into their merit points so early in the program. It was comical in a way— especially Zephyr and the Ponytail dude. Both of them had their faces caked red with dried blood and were holding their ribs as they walked, yet they still turned down treatment like it was beneath them.

Once the victors were gone, the instructor turned toward the soldiers who had failed to defeat their assigned recruits. His gaze was sharp and disdainful as he walked past them, stopping to look each one directly in the eyes.

"…You are a failure," he said with cutting calm.

Their knuckles clenched as they felt the bite of his words.

"You couldn't even bring down some kids still wet behind the ears. What use are you to the military if you can't complete such a simple task, hmmn?"

"And look at this one." He stopped in front of one of the soldiers who was just regaining consciousness— this was the guy who had been knocked out cold by the group with the giant boy.

A medic was crouched beside him, helping him sit up. The soldier blinked his eyes open slowly, only to be met with the instructor's face looming over him.

"Oh, you're finally awake," the instructor said with mock concern. "How was the nap?"

"Goo—" The soldier nearly answered on reflex, still dazed, but the words caught in his throat as he came to his senses. He quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Good? You were going to say it was good?" the instructor asked, his tone dropping to a deadly low growl as he leaned in close.

"NO SIR!" the soldier shouted, straightening himself.

"Doesn't matter," the instructor said, turning away with disgust. "Pack your things and crawl right back to the shithole you came from."

The soldier's face crumbled. All his dreams and ambition...shattered in an instant. He wanted to plead, to explain, but instead he bit down the words and gave a stiff salute before heading towards the barracks.

The remaining soldiers looked on with hardened expressions, each of them silently thinking to themselves that it could have just as easily been them.

The instructor moved to the final two soldiers who had also failed.

"You two get one last chance. Lose one more time, and I'd rather keep the recruits and throw you out."

"YES SIR!" they shouted in unison.

He turned to address the rest of the soldiers who had succeeded in their matches.

"The same goes for the rest of you. There is no room for mediocrity in my military. Do you understand me?!"

"YES SIR!" they all shouted back, eyes burning with resolve.

Tomorrow was going to be even worse for the recruits.

***

Zephyr was devouring food in the cafeteria with gusto. He had wiped his tray clean within seconds but still wasn't satisfied. His body craved even more. He returned to the counter to ask for seconds but learned he'd need to spend a merit point to get any extra serving.

To their credit, the second serving was far more generous. The tray was practically heaped with food. Though Zephyr was pained at using up a merit point so soon, the amount of food he received made him feel like it was well spent.

'Note to self- Going overboard like that isn't going to be sustainable here. I have to learn to control myself and not go all out anymore.'

As he mused internally, someone sat across from him gently, holding his ribs in a grimace. Zephyr looked up and saw that it was the Ponytail dude.

They exchanged no words for a few seconds. Both of them just ate in silence for a while before the guy finally spoke, "My name's Zeke."

He extended a hand for a handshake.

Zephyr took it. "Zephyr. Name's Zephyr."

Their introduction seemed to trigger a chain reaction. The the others who had been scattered about now stood with their trays and came over, joining the two of them at the table.

They sat down comfortably as the tall, blonde haired girl gave a bright smile and introduced herself with cheerful energy.

"Hey guys, I'm Anna. This here is Helga," she said, gesturing toward the short, dark-skinned girl beside her. "She's a bit shy."

Helga's face reddened, her eyes glued to her tray as she fidgeted with her fingers.

Anna's gaze then moved to the towering figure beside her—the giant of the group.

He looked around at everyone and simply said, "Cedric."

Anna clapped excitedly then pointed to the next in line—Blondie. He looked like he was in a terrible mood, but he stood up with a theatrical air and declared:

"My name is Jet. No surname. I'm a bastard, and I'm not ashamed of it. Remember the name, because you'll hear it ring across the world in a few years."

'Urgh... That was so cheesy,' Zephyr thought with his eyes closed.

Anna clapped even more eagerly as Jet sat back down with a satisfied smirk.

"I like your confidence, Jet," she said, before turning to the last girl— the redhead.

She nodded and introduced herself, "My name's Kathelyn… also a bastard…"

'Is everyone here a bastard or something? And why are they announcing it to everyone?' Zephyr stared up at the ceiling.

Jet stood up dramatically to join Anna in clapping for Kathelyn.

She nodded in acknowledgment while Anna moved on, prompting Zeke and Zephyr again, who reintroduced themselves without any flair.

"You both were really strong out there," Anna said, smiling warmly. "We all watched your fight."

Zeke brushed it off with a snort. "We were just lucky. That fight lost all rhyme and reason after a while."

"If we're talking about strength, Cedric here's probably the strongest. Your group finished first, and none of you even looked tired."

"Yes. I am the strongest here," Cedric replied with a nod as if stating a natural fact.

The table fell silent.

'This guy didn't even bother sugarcoating it,' Zephyr snickered.

Jet scoffed and shot back, "Well, you haven't fought me yet, so we can't say that for sure."

Cedric glanced at Jet's smaller frame and didn't even bother replying. The look in his eyes said it all.

Jet stood up, bristling. "What was that condescending look, huh? Wanna go?!"

"Hey, hey! Calm down, guys," Anna interjected, trying to defuse the tension. "No need to fight anything out now. We've got plenty of time to figure out who's the strongest."

She gave Jet a pointed look, and he grumbled back into his seat.

"Besides, raw strength isn't what really matters here. Unless you want to be grunts at the front lines. Magic's the real deal... Right?" she said, looking around the table.

"Yeah," Zeke agreed. "We'll get the chance to learn magic here... that's what actually counts."

They continued eating with occasional conversation, bits of laughter, and nods of agreement.

As time passed, other recruits began trickling into the cafeteria, fully healed, but with sour looks. They knew they had just lost points to get healed.

The air slowly filled with hushed murmurs and quiet chatter as the cafeteria filled up more and more.

As they exchanged stories about how brutally they'd been knocked out, their eyes inevitably drifted toward the table in the corner— where Zephyr and his group sat.

"Those are the ones who didn't get taken out—"

"Maybe their soldiers were weak—"

"They don't look like much… except that big guy—"

Helga shifted in her seat uncomfortably, clearly not used to being the center of attention.

Jet noticed and, without lowering his voice, scoffed. "Tch. Don't let them bother you, Helga. They're just flies buzzing around. Not even worth your attention."

"Pfft—" Zephyr almost choked on his drink.

'This kid gives no fucks.'

People nearby shot menacing glares at Jet, but he remained entirely unfazed.

"Yeah, Helga," Cedric said, even louder. "No need to pay attention to inferior creatures."

He locked eyes with half the cafeteria, daring anyone to challenge him.

Everyone suddenly turned their gazes away, finding their food very interesting.

'What kind of arrogant people have I surrounded myself with?' Zephyr thought, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.