32 The Fortress: Part Two (1/2)
The field we were waiting in was surrounded by a sea of trees, from beyond it was the refreshing breeze, cooling our bodies with its soft touch. There were weapon racks in place and arrow targets arranged.
”I'm (blank) by the way.”
This character held out his hand, along with it was a bright smile and warm eyes that seemed very kind. As I was about to do the same, the noise came stirring from the crowd of recruits who took our attention.
As I turned to look at the ongoing situation, there, I saw a stern-looking man. I guess Bardel doesn't train the recruits anymore, but judging from Cordelia's situation, He would be in the same boat as she is.
”All recruits! Fall in line!” He shouted.
The trainees went running to align themselves.
”Let's go.”
The kind guy beside me went away and his group of friends followed him, I did the same, following him to the formation.
”As you all know some of you are recently recruited from the Black Market incident--” He paused.
As he paused, memories of the past came through my mind that brought horrible experiences. My eyes wandered to my fellow recruits, some had eyes filled with disdain while others remained neutral on the matter.
The remaining were despondent, hopeful, and random. I couldn't express how guilty I was of what happened, their faces exuded the feelings that they went through. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't make the words that would make this right. Plus, I don't think they would want to hear it from the one who murdered most of their families; especially their homes.
*Cough!*
He coughed so that he'd willingly take their attentions, but it worked.
”While some of you are previous recruitees that failed, this will be another chance for you all to prove yourselves.”
”Welcome Class 3 recruits! I usually start the training with a simple introduction!”
There were at least fifty recruits lined laterally, facing him, standing stiff in respect. The instructor started to pace from left to right while keeping his arms crossed behind him. It revealed his large stomach that protruded through his shirt.
His face seemed flushed with heavy eyes, brazenly looking at us. It looks like he was drunk. I could only discern this truth as he slightly wobbled when he walked. He was a well-rounded man especially with weight, but he wasn't that tall; Average per se.
”You all have a reason to be here, whether it be revenge, love, power, or improvement.”
He started his pep-talk which was the opposite of Bardel who went for action straight away. I could hear faint murmurs a few paces away.
”Is that man goin' to teach us?”
They started chuckling, making fun of the plump man, couldn't really blame them but others started mocking him. His greasy looking appearance didn't really help make him look respectable.
”NONE OF THAT MATTERS!” He shouted.
Soon, he sauntered his way towards the laughing recruits, facing them with a serious look in his eye. It slightly glinted.
”What's so funny?” He said.
”Nothin' Sir!”
He had a rugged look, a hairstyle that was eccentric. It was shaved on both sides, leaving him a long braided mohawk flowing towards his back that matched his long graying beard, which was divided into four equal parts that laid all the way to his chest; It was intimidating.
”Is that right?” He asked.
”Yes! Sir!” The recruits replied that followed a salute.
”Hmm...”
Then he started laughing in front of the recruits which was paused every now and then. It was because he belched in between. The recruits were slightly backing away while holding their noses.
”I like kids like you! So, you think I'm funny huh?! Is my belly too podgy for you?”
His laughing was hysterical, the recruits couldn't help but laugh along with him and soon the remaining recruits did the same.
”Go grab a weapon,” He said sternly.
His mustache nudged slightly the moment he said that I couldn't look away either and I wasn't the only one.
”W-What?” They said in unison.
”GO! GRAB! A! WEAPON!” He shouted.
”ENJOYING THE VIEW!? GET BACK TO POSITION YOU PESTS!” He pointed towards us.
We hurriedly went back to position, I thought he was going to be really easy-going but it looks like I'll be in a world of pain.
”WHAT ARE YOU TWO WAITING FOR!? GO GRAB A WEAPON?!”
The recruits hurried towards the weapon racks and each of them took hold of a weapon. They held standard dull training swords.
”Now! To position you, insufferable ingrates! Take stance! Face each other!”
They took arms, facing one another. The Instructor had picked up a branch from the ground that gave him a hard time since his large stomach was blocking the way. He neared the two recruits then deliberately smacked them into position.
”Your form is too weak! Straighten your back! Hold the sword on chest level!”
He asked for their names then made them fight. As the were sparring, He was barking orders from afar while drinking from a small container that he kept safe hanging on his side.
”You fools think that you can fight properly! Each and every one of you slobs is too ignorant!” He said with displeasure.
”Laugh if you think you have the talent or strength to back it up!”
”Form is sloppy! Is this the trash that the Liberators could muster up! Pathetic!”
”Better give up now than waste your life dying!”
I could tell that one of the sparring recruits had enough of this laughable lardy man. Right after, he took a large swing, he continued to do so that he spun to deliberately hit the loud Instructor.
To our surprise, even while drinking, he took the impact of a full three-sixty swing of a sword with just his left finger. Then he let loose a loud belch that followed after.
”What do you think you are doing? Scum?” He threatened.
His brows furrowed that clearly offended him, on the other hand, the recruit was awe-struck and dumbfounded by his strength. This recruit was prideful, in a sense that he stood taller and bulkier than his target which was probably why he looked down on him.
”Big mistake recruit.”
He took the sword by its dull blade and shoved it towards the cocky recruit, the hilt dove deep in his stomach that made his drop on all fours.
”I am Weylham Oughtlawe! Now! Whoever is stupid enough to do the same as this poor lad will meet the same fate!”
”Sir, Yes Sir!” Everyone shouted in unison.
”Well, what are you all waiting for?! Go grab a weapon!”
As everyone moved towards the weapon racks, there was a figure that came late from behind him. To my surprise, it was the same quiet recruit from the Chow Hall.
”So you've decided to show yourself?” Said Instructor Weylham.
The recruit didn't answer.
As I took to the weapon racks, I heard faint murmurs of other recruits.
”I know that fat man...”
”Well? Who's the chubby bloke? He acts as if he owns the place.”
”That's the former owner of the Fortress, He's known for being strict when training recruits. Word is, he retired from being a mercenary.”
”But I thought Sir Bardel owned the place? Is he a Bardel too? Wonder why he's back?”
So this fat man might be related to Bardel? I could see some resemblance, but it feels highly unlikely. That opinion seems forced or forged. The Bardel I knew was admirable, respected, and honorable, but this man being a Bardel seemed preposterous because he stood opposite of what a Bardel is supposed to be.
He may have been strict, but in the other aspects, he failed to show any promise that he came from the respectable Bardel family.
”WELL RECRUIT?! YOU'VE NOTHING TO SAY?!”
His thunderous voice took my attention away from the gossiping recruits, I turned to the sight of him scolding the late newcomer. The recruit had a blank expression, his glasses reflected the sunlight that shadowed his face with his hair blowing in the wind.
”I see...” Said Instructor Oughtlawe.
It was an odd sight, he stood motionless, like a tree, but somehow his eyes never diverted away. As if all of his focus was directed at what he's staring.
”Even so! You came late! anyone who comes in late will receive a punishment! I'll make an example out of you,” He pointed at the recruit.
”Choose a weapon!”
The recruit nodded then proceeded to march towards the weapon racks. Emotionless, straight-forward, and calm. He felt more like a machine than a human being. As he got to the weapon racks he took a bow and quiver filled with arrows.
Sir Oughtlawe, despite his aggressive demeanor and laidback expression; He was keenly observing the recruit, as the glint in his eyes hinted at something. Something that only he could discern from the recruit.
”Do you know how to shoot?” He asked.
The recruit nodded.
”Then show me.”
The man pointed towards the farthest target within the shooting range, it was adjacent to the weapon racks, so he moved towards it to get in position. The bright, red, circular target was at least fifty meters away, and it was windy. It seemed like an impossible feat.
The recruit began to take a deep breath, as he sighed, he nocked an arrow and placed it on top of the bow as he stretched his hands into position. Everyone was quiet, we, the viewers watched his sheer intensity and focus. He never blinked, his face retained the same expressionless fashion.
The calm surrounding was unnerving as everybody waited for him to fire the shot. As the wind blew in a breeze that carried leaves from the trees; The arrow went firing straight away without any intrusion.
”YOU THERE!”
I turned towards Sir Oughtlawe with a surprised expression. I lifted my finger towards myself, carrying a slight hint of doubt.
”M-Me?” I asked.
”Yes, you! go check on the arrow!”
”Yes! Sir!” I replied.