The Runic Alchemist

Five in the morning was no time for a kid barely ten years old to wake up—Damian could die on that hill. But his friends woke him up, and they all gathered at the training ground, half-asleep in the clothes the army had provided for training.

The pugilist captain was in her uniform too. She had some serious muscles, but it didn't take away from her beauty at all. Still, it was too early for even that. Sam was leaning on Yovan's back, snoring with his eyes closed, while Yovan himself was leaning on Jorven's back. Everyone around them was either yawning or shivering in cold constantly.

"Okay! Wake up, you useless lot!" the energetic captain shouted, punching her palm with her other hand. The force sent a wave of air that knocked everyone on their butts, awakening the whole group at once. Damian couldn't say that he liked it at all. The snow was too cold, the air was too cold—everything was too freaking cold. And they weren't even allowed to wear a coat or anything.

She made them do warm-up exercises like neck and shoulder rolls, arm rotations, hip rotations, knee bends, leg swings, arm swings, and of course lunges. Half the kids were already moaning and grunting with each movement. Damian was wide awake now—who could still feel sleepy after all this?

Yovan and Sam complained more and more with each new exercise, but everyone tactfully ignored them. The mages were having a tough time, as were some of the other kids. Einar was also grunting heavily with each movement, but he kept going. That kid had potential. The plus-sized white-haired boy had already given up, sprawled on the cold snow.

Some wanted to follow his lead, but the pugilist captain's promise of no breakfast until they were finished kept them going.

Next came running—again around the camp. This time, she didn't specify how much they were supposed to run, and she joined in, offering words of encouragement or plain threats to some while leading them on. She didn't push them too far, though. After the third lap around the camp perimeter, she made everyone stop. After some more light exercises, she let them go to freshen up and eat breakfast.

It was already around 8 in the morning.

Sam, Yovan, and many others cursed the whole way through, out of the captain's earshot, but they managed to suffer through, thanks to support from Damian and the cousins. Some kids just laid down right there on the snow-covered ground, breathing heavily. The cold was the least of their problems now.

Damian also sat down next to Sam and Yovan, who had joined the others on the ground, laying down and breathing heavily.

Einar also sat down before collapsing onto the ground. That guy was acting too tough for his own good. The cousins also sat down beside him on the snow.

"I swear to all the gods, this is not worth it at all," Sam muttered.

"It's what all normal soldiers do every day," Geldric said, looking at him with a mocking smile.

"It's torture, is what it is," added Yovan.

"You guys didn't expect to just throw spells from a distance in a war like this, did you?" Einar chimed in. He rarely joined their conversations, but sometimes he said random things.

"I'm a mage. If it comes to me running away from bunch of enemies, aren't I already dead among their spells?" Yovan argued back.

"It's not just about running away. With a better body, you can endure longer and survive in harsher conditions while fighting constantly," Jorven explained the benefits of a healthy body.

"Why does everything I hear sounds like 'we're going to suffer and die?'" Sam added.

"I think she went easy on us because it's our first time..." Damian said, instantly making half the people around him turn their heads with hateful eyes. He couldn't help but smile. Guess exercises could be fun too. Sam and Yovan's faces turned pale as they gave up even lifting their heads.

After a while of rest, they freshened up and ate breakfast in the cafeteria tent. Everyone ate in silence, last night's joy lost in their aching joints. They were supposed to start their weapons training in an hour. The good thing was, for each different weapon, they had an experienced sergeant.

The most popular choices were the pugilist class with the captain and the spellsword captain teaching swordsmanship. Damian, however, joined the line of kids for spearmanship. The sergeant in charge was a first-ranker and looked pretty experienced.

Sam, with Damian's sword, went towards the Spellsword captain. Of course, there was also a mage captain who would be teaching basic mana control and magic usage for a long time, dealing with low mana backlash. It wasn't specific mage training, as they wouldn't learn any new spells, just improve on what they already knew. Specific mage lessons would take at least weeks or months.

The arrogant commander had come once to observe the training and said things to some of the kids that could only be described as useless advice and downright insults. Good thing he was near the mages and Spellsword captain, though. If he'd said something to Damian, he'd certainly have lit his behind on fire, and no one would have even known.

Clearing his mind, Damian focused on his own lessons.

The sergeant began by teaching the fundamentals of spearmanship, emphasizing a strong, balanced stance with the dominant hand gripping the spear near its butt and the non-dominant hand positioned about a third of the way up the shaft. They practiced holding the spear with precision and moving it smoothly between defensive and offensive positions.

The recruits were drilled in the basic thrust, where they extended the spear in a straight line toward an imagined opponent, focusing on speed, control, and accuracy. The sergeant then introduced the lunging thrust, where the recruits stepped forward with their leading foot while extending the spear, combining the movement for greater reach and power.

He made everyone repeat the moves while he himself talked and demonstrated the necessary actions again and again in front of them.

"Alright, listen up! The spear's your best friend on the battlefield, so you'd better get to know it like one. Keep your grip firm, but don't choke it—let the spear move with you, not against you. When you thrust, don't just poke at the air. Imagine you're aiming at an enemy's chest. Your spear goes out fast, and it comes back just as quick.

None of this sloppy business, got it? Now, when you lunge, step into it—put your weight behind the thrust. But keep your balance; if you overreach, you're done for. We'll be doing this over and over until it's burned into your bones. So get used to it, because out there, the one who knows their spear best is the one who walks away."

He didn't introduce himself or give any grand speeches. He just started teaching without any nonsense. Damian was starting to like the guy. He was pretty high in the first-ranker standings—after so many years of fighting, he was naturally high-leveled. With his gruff face, brown hair, and beard, the guy looked like a baseball coach.

He seems to be from Eldoris, with his above-average looks and good amount of mana.

Damian already knew the basics, but the sergeant still helped him correct some of his posture and form. Damian hadn't even realized he was doing it wrong; guess that's why a teacher is important in arts like this. They continued training with small breaks in between until lunchtime. After lunch, they were given two more hours to rest.

Then, once again, the pugilist captain appeared with an evil smile on her face. They ran again for three laps, followed by more exercises. Finally, after the exercise, they were taught the basic theory of fighting, group coordination, army command structure, and how to conduct oneself as a soldier. It was all theory, and everyone was too spent to pay much attention.

Still, as the lowest level of soldiers after the mundanes, such things weren't that important. It was only crucial if one wanted a serious career in the army and to rise through the ranks.

However, most of what they taught, Damian already knew. The fighting tactics and army structure were new, so he listened to the captains and sergeants talk. Not like there was anything else to do—it was mandatory. Plus, he wasn't as tired as the rest of them. Even some of the pugilist kids were feeling exhausted by now. Damian realized for the first time just how advantageous a prestigious job was.

No wonder people were going insane trying to chase it.

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