"Next!" the captain shouted.
I stepped back into line, massaging my sore muscles to ease the pain. Almost everyone after me did well — strong stances, powerful slashes. Even so, five were quietly dismissed before the session ended. Then the captain glanced at me.
"Shorty, come here," he said, then turned to the tall, well-dressed blond guy nearby. "And you, Art."
Am I the shorty? What the hell — I was above average back on Earth.
We stepped forward. The captain looked at me.
"You, Shorty — you're in charge of the leftmost five men."
I interrupted. "I'm not Shorty, sir. My name is Saul."
He didn't flinch. "Don't speak unless you're asked a question or given permission to speak, Saul."
Then he turned to the blond guy. "And you, Art, will take care of the other six."
"Now listen carefully. First, go to the storeroom. Get one uniform and one set of bedclothes for each man. After that, go to the soldiers' quarters, make the beds, and leave the uniforms in the chests. Don't change yet — I don't want you ruining the uniforms before the oath. Then head to the kitchen and eat your shares. Move in an orderly fashion. If I see any of you out of line or missing, you'll be punished the most. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" Art and I replied in unison.
"Good. After the meal, report before the forge to give your oath to our lord. If there are no questions, proceed."
I hesitated, then asked, "Uh, sir — where exactly is everything?"
The captain sighed. "Art here knows the castle like the back of his hand. Follow him."
I nodded and started walking back toward my place in the line — then remembered I was the one in charge. I headed straight for the first man in my group to give the command. But before I spoke, Arthur's men stepped into file and marched through the archway.
Well, whatever.
I stepped beside the first man in my rank and ordered, "Turn left — follow me." He moved, and the rest of the line followed in sequence.
We curved around in a U-shape and followed Art's group.
We passed through the archway into the First Courtyard. Beyond the gate stood a set of wooden stairs, and beneath them was the storeroom. Art's men began receiving their supplies, and as they did, Art approached me.
"Hey, it's Saul, right? I'm Arthur — but you can call me Art," he said, offering his hand.
I shook it. "Hey, Art."
He nodded toward the wall behind him. "Let's talk over there — let them get their things first."
We walked to the side. Near the wall, he turned and smiled.
"So," he said, "what's your ambition, Saul? Who do you want to become?"
The question caught me off guard. I paused to think.
Who do I want to become? That's... a good question. If only I knew.
"I want to become strong," I said.
He laughed. "Good answer. But no — seriously."
"I don't know. I'm not a noble like you. I can't become a knight or anything. What's there to aim for? I'm here to learn mana combat techniques."
And to access the library, I added silently.
"You don't know anything, do you?" Art said.
I gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
"You and I — we're going to be trained by the captain personally. That means we've got real potential — if we play it smart. We'll learn heavy weapons and advanced techniques. Not like the others."
"Ah. Okay," I said quietly.
He exhaled and relaxed. "Well, my friend — looks like it's our turn."
We approached the wooden counter.
The wardrober handed me a pile of clothes and sheets. I frowned.
"Don't you have anything smaller? These look oversized."
"Sorry," the man said. "Standard issue. Made to fit most. You can visit the tailor in the village later."
I nodded, took the gear, and walked outside, signaling my men to follow. We lined up facing the archway and waited for Art's group.
He joined us soon, and we all moved past the archway and into the second courtyard. Along the middle of the right wall stood a plain wooden door — the entrance to the soldiers' quarters.
The first thing I saw was rows of bunk beds lining the left and right walls.
A door broke the right wall halfway down. Another was set into the far end of the left wall. One last door stood ahead on the back wall.
It was obvious which bunk to take.
I walked to the leftmost lower bunk and claimed it. The room held space for three times our number. For now, we all took bottom bunks.
The other guys were already arguing over places, but nobody dared to confront me — or did they? Art walked over as doubt rushed in. He said nothing — he took the lower bunk across from mine, closest to me.
We quickly made our beds, placed the uniforms in the chests beside them, and headed out again.