Frey raised his spear high in the air. While all the Ghouls were his enemy, some reacted faster than others. Five lept at him. In a single motion, he swept them all away. The victims smashed into the stone walls. Despite him being the attacker, his arms went numb. His spear nearly broke in two. The dry blood stains emerged from his clothes and moved like a serpent. After being absorbed, the Bloodwood staff reconstructed itself. Frey took a deep breath: "Who's next?" He stood tall at the entrance. His spear raised up again. The fifteen remaining Ghouls surrounded him. In one attack he had exhausted most of his strength. 'That's not right,' he thought. 'Why am I so tired?' In their polished claws and fangs, was his reflection.

'Is that me?' he thought. 'Look at my stance.' His reflection showed not the proud Virility Guard but a broken remnant of a soldier. His stance was almost nonexistent. He was practically leaning against the wall behind him. His spear was held like a kid holding a stick. 'When did I get so sloppy?'

…

"It's shameful," Jameson said as he circled around Frey in the Pit. "You almost lost to a newbie. Doevm is two years younger than you. He never even sparred with a spear before. What do you have to say for yourself? Did your honor hold you back?"

"I-I" Frey stuttered. "I just wasn't as skilled as him. I'm a big guy. I'm not meant to be skillful. I'm meant to be strong."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," Jameson sighed. "I can't believe I trained a guard as stupid as you." He shoved Frey to the ground. "Get up." Frey got up only to be shoved again. "Get up." Frey hesitated. "Get up right now or you're going into the fields!" Every guard was staring at them, but Jameson didn't care. Frey got up. "Now get into a stance." He bent his legs, leaned on his toes, and separated his feet by his shoulder width. Jameson shoved him again, but it this time he didn't fall over. Frey barely had to resist to remain standing. "Look at you now. I can't shove you over. I wonder what that means. Tell me Frey what does a proper stance mean? Why do we make you get into one every time you fight?"

"So I don't fall over." Frey responded.

Jameson shook his head: "I can still knock you over though." He swept Frey's leg, making him fall yet again. "Get up." Frey followed orders. "Now what do you think a stance means? It doesn't mean you can't get knocked over. Try again."

"I don't know," Frey shrugged. "I can fight better with it."

Before the other guards could laugh, Jameson sent a glare their way: "If I hear even a snicker, you're all doing a hundred laps." He turned back to Frey: "I'll take that response." He pushed down on Frey until his legs felt like they had caught fire. The backs of his feet were pushed up like he was wearing high heels. "That's a little better. The stance is a necessity of a fighter. No matter which fighting style you learn, the stance is always first. That is because you 'fight better' with it. Every technique you use is enhanced by a better stance. No matter what, the stance is the most important part of a fight."

"Sir, why are you telling me this?" Frey's legs were already shaking a bit, trying to hold up his massive frame.

"I'm telling you this because you don't understand that you're weak." Jameson once again shoved Frey over. "You're not strong; you're big. There is a difference. You have muscle but so what? That doesn't mean you are immune to steel. That doesn't mean you have to be weak at technique. You need skill or your muscle is useless. Doevm is shorter than you by two feet yet he almost beat you. Why was that? He had technique. Think about what you could do if you had his technique. Stay in this stance for an hour. I want you to remember it. Even if you're on the verge of death, stay in this position. No matter what you do, it all starts from a stance."

…

Frey forced his heavy breathing to slow down. His opening move had exhausted his arms. Now that he calmed down somewhat, everything he had done in the past few days looked so stupid. If he had continued on his 'rampage', he would have died. His spear shaft could regenerate but what of its tip. He hadn't bothered to even wipe the now-blunt tip down. 'So what if I have strength? I don't know how to use it.' He lifted his tired head to face the fifteen remaining Ghouls. 'Doevm would have kept his cool. He would have…Shut up already!' he screamed at himself. The Ghouls were now a few breaths away and he was thinking about how someone else would fight for him. Ridiculous. He was a joke.

'One!' His thighs burned as he lowered his waist. Each vertebra cracked as he straightened his back. He let his grip relax a little and his spear stopped shaking as much. 'Two!' The spear was meant to be a weapon for a single target. Under attack from multiple enemies, it should be used as a staff. He batted away claws and teeth, but he couldn't defend against them all. As a pair of claws scraped against his arm, his life essence hardened his skin. While it worked to prevent a scratch, the muscle was bruised. Frey shoved them all back and retreated back into the narrow cave.

'This is what you would do, right Doevm? Use the terrain to your advantage. Now that I'm in a small opening, they can't come all at once.' His life essence flickered a little. Each step was a few needles in his thighs and ankles. Even his spear, which was supposed to be light, felt as heavy as a log. He took breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. 'Remember the basics. Whatever happens remember what Jameson and Doevm taught you.' The Ghouls chased after him in threes. He knocked them into the stone walls. Soft thuds echoed as did their wails. Brains smashed against the inside of their skulls. Invisible scrapes appeared on Frey's limbs. Even his lungs had trouble working. He coughed a few times. 'I'm so weak. I didn't even think I would die like this.' Ghouls climbed on the ceiling by using the stalactites. He couldn't even reach that high. His arms no longer had that range of motion. Stars exploded as his helmet was knocked off. He ran.

'Gwen, at least you didn't follow me to this war.' His deep breaths turned shallow. Even though he was trying to run, his legs wouldn't let him. 'She's probably all alone in our house right now. I promised her I would return.' He got into a stance again and blocked three sets of claws. The spear was ripped out of his hands. 'I hope she will live a happy life.' A Ghoul's mouth clamped to his hand and bounced off his life essence. He twisted its neck and swung its body into the crowd like a mace. 'Knowing her, she'll probably cry for weeks. There'll be no one to take care of her. What if she falls down and can't get up? She'll lay there, rotting.'

A pair of teeth caught his arm. His life essence faded away. Its small white daggers tore into his flesh. He couldn't feel any pain. The only red thing coming out of him was blood. Knee met ugly face. 'I asked Reginald to take care of her while I'm gone but he won't take care of her forever.' Ghouls dropped from the ceiling like raindrops and his fists, the umbrella. 'I miss her.' Three Ghouls were left. By now, he could barely move his arms. His legs held him against a wall. They locked into place. He was covered in blood and sweat. Each tiny breath was painful. His heartbeat faster than ever. Two of them got hold of his shin guard and tore it off. The other one went for his neck.

"Use every part of your body." Jameson's words echoed in the cave. "Not just the spear." Frey headbutt the Ghoul three times. A new wound formed on his forehead, stinging as sweat dripped into it. Two left. Frey commanded his body to move only to collapse on one of the two remaining, making sure to headbutt it on the way down. A loud buzzing invaded his ears. He managed to flip himself over, so he could at least face up when he died. The one surviving Ghoul smiled at him. Saliva drooled out of its mouth. Its teeth spread apart as it opened its mouth wide. 'Damn it.' Gathering the last of his strength, he grabbed the Ghoul by the neck. His fading mind focused on this one task. It was less than a grab and more like he was holding hands with someone. His fingers were already damaged enough when they dug into his spear. His grip strength was gone. He could have sworn the Ghoul was laughing at him. It didn't even bother to swat the hand away. Its teeth neared its hard-earned meal.

"No!" Even Frey's thoughts seemed faint.

'Oh, it's not my voice,' he thought. A group of people sprinted down the cave. He couldn't make out their faces. 'It's too late anyway. They're too far away.' The Ghoul slumped over him. Despite Frey's thoughts, no pain arrived. Even the strength to keep his eyes open, was gone. He passed out.