「Darkwood Entrance – Day 25th Month of Dark」

The instructor rushes at me with an iron sword in hand. It is a blunt weapon used for training, but in her hands even a blunt iron sword is not any less deadly than a real weapon, especially when swung with speed and might of a veteran fencer. The same iron sword in my hand looks like a toothpick compared to hers. Brenna Lodbrock continues thursting her sword like a swarm of bees stinging a hungry bear, forcing me to rapidly step further backward. Even if this is training, the woman is serious, any mistakes may lead to my death.

Last night there was a snowstorm in the area, although it was already over by morning, the aftermath left behind a yard filled with white snow. And of course, being the stern instructor she is, Brenna doesn’t even let the thought of cancelling our daily training cross her mind. Caelan, Koros and Iola have their own training to do, while I am stuck here sparring with Brenna under a ground packed with snow. The snow is hindering my movement, it’s sticky and slippery, I’m certainly not used enough to fight on this kind of terrain, and the pressure from Brenna certainly doesn’t help.

“What’s the matter? We don’t have all day!”

Brenna puts her assault on hold as she taunts me. In the end, I haven’t managed to get on the offensive even once ever since our sparring started. Her assaults are rentless without any openings to exploit, her footwork is perfect even on the snowground, although considering her experience on the frontline prior to her new job, I guess that is not something to be surprised of. Yet, she expects me to to hit her torso at least once when she’s going all out like that?

“Remember what I taught you, Akuma! You asked me how to get stronger, so I taught you with the best of my abilities. It’s time for you put those knowledge into practice!”

And thus, Brenna resumes our sparring. She rushes at me in an instant and thursts her sword at my head. My reflex kicks in and deflects her sword, but I fail to find an opening to retalialte, and thus my remaining choice is to fall back out of her sword’s reach.

“Playing safe will get you nowhere! In a fight, you either risk everything or lose everything!”

Her teachings are certainly as aggressive as she is. Brenna is hardly a fan of teaching theorical knowledge, the things she taught me about fighting was how to end the fight in the fastest way possible: Don’t try fancy moves, don’t make elaborate plans, simply kill the oppenent before they kill you. Easier said than done, however…

“Uoaagghhh!”

I yell. Tired of staying on the defensive, I rush at her with my sword in hand and throw several slashes at her. Unsurpisingly, Brenna easily dodges them all, and counters my offensive attacks by throwing a jab at my face.

“Just because you’re desperate doesn’t mean you should lose your composure!”

I fall back. My nose is bloodied, but considering she punched me instead of stabbing me, I guess I don’t even deserve to get stabbed by her. But thanks to her punch, I can already feel blood flowing into my brain, helping me regain my composure. I’m learning it, what Brenna is trying to teach me through all these brutal trainings. I resume my fighting stance, the basic sword fighting stance she taught me before throwing everything else out of the window in favor of hands-on experience, but now I understand, fighting with your life on the line isn’t something suitable to be taught through words.

“Hiyahhh!”

I rush at her and throw a slash. A common attack, not too different from what I tried prior, and just as expected, Brenna easily counters me...or would be, if I don’t cancel my attack midway and use the opportunity to approach Brenna’s right side, her blind side thanks to a lack of a right eye.

“A feint!”

Yes, a feint, just as she says it out loud. My sudden movement puts her concentration in shambles, presenting many openings for me to strike, but it’s too risky for me to just barge in like that. I crossed swords with her many times during my training, and just as many times I fell for her deceits with obvious openings like that, inviting me into a danger zone just to get countered in the most painful way possible. But I’ve learned from my mistakes, because that’s what it means to be trained!

“Ohyahhhh!”

I yell out loud, like a battle cry before a final assault. But I don’t charge in mindlessly like how my instructor expects me to do. I simply approach closer and circling around her right side, looking for a genuine opening that isn’t simply a feint. Brenna throws a swipe to chase me out of her blind spot, but I have more advantage than her, it isn’t hard to dodge her swing while still maintaining an exploitable location in her blind spot.

“Tch.”

Seems like Brenna herself is pissed, so much for teachings about staying cool in combat. In an attempt to regain her advantage, Brenna rushes forward while making a barrage of thursts. But at this point, I’m already familiar myself with her attacks. Which is why...my counter attack starts here!

“Hyah!”

I throw a downward slash, not aiming at the woman herself, but her sword instead, right at her crossguard, locking her sword from reaching me.

“What!?”

The woman is surprised just as I expected, but it’s too easy for her to retract her sword, rendering my efforts meaningless. But I already have a follow up plan prepared.

“My apology in advance!”

I kick some snow off the ground, aiming straight at Brenna’s remaining eye. Certainly a dirty move, if I must say, but I won’t even have any chance to beat her if I don’t play dirty. And sure enough, my trick works, and Brenna is temporary blinded from snow blocking her view. Now comes my final counterattack!

“It’s already over!”

After swiftly pushing away her own sword, with the support from that momentum, I turn myself around and pour all my strength into a final swing, aiming at Brenna’s armored stomach. With her armor protecting her, even if I attack her with all my strength, I won’t be able to harm her in any way. One hit is all I need to end this sparring with my victory.

I can do this. I can do this!

That is my thought, until my eyes catch glimpses of blood.

Brenna’s blood, reddening the shirt around her stomach. Only a tiny bit, but it’s still visible right where her armor can’t protect her. Unconsciously, I find myself hesitate to make my final strike.

And that becomes my mistake, as Brenna wipes the snow off her face and throws a kick at my legs then knocks me down the ground with an elbow strike right at my chest.

“Argh!”

But that is simply not enough for her, Brenna puts her right shoe at my throat, with enough force to make me uncomfortable, but not enough to choke me to the point of asphyxiation. When I throw a look at her, all I see is an angry beast, very very angry beast. Her sole remaining red eye is filled with rage, understandbly considering what I did. I hope she heard my apology earlier.

“Why did you hesistate?”

However, the thing she says is not what I expected her to say.

“WHY DID YOU HESITATE!?”

Brenna yells, her anger becomes even more visible. She pours more strength into her foot, causing real pain to me in attempt to force an answer.

“I saw...you bleeding...I was afraid...I might hurt you…”

Brenna almost explodes from anger, but after a moment to reclaim her cool, my instructor makes a resigned sigh as she puts her shoe off my throat. Brenna throws away the sparring sword like a piece of junk and sits down on the snowy ground. While touching her wounded stomach, Brenna says:

“Do you think I am that fragile?”

I get up. My body is still hurt from the abuse earlier, so I don’t even bother to try standing up. Still sitting on the snow, I reply.

“It’s not that...it’s just...when it comes to the real deal, I realize I still have second thoughts about harming and killing someone.”

A part of my hesitation comes from Brenna’s own welfare in a way. She has been training us nonstop ever since we seriously started our training ten days ago. All those training hardly gave us anytime to properly rest, and the same applied to her too. I’m surprised it took this long for her old wounds to open up again.

But another part...is because this is the only occasion I manage to find myself in the position to decide the life of someone. Sure, just because I’m centimeters away to tap Brenna on her armor doesn’t mean I have to fall for such weak sentimentality. But seing her blood, even just tiny bits of it, reminds me of how fragile people are, demons or not.

“You’re so emotionally vulnerable for someone who had no qualm to take away the lives of Origen and his men.”

“It was a life or death situation! I had to do what I had to do...If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here today…”

I yell. Even after weeks of relatively peace, I still can’t forget the lingering feelings that siege left me. Then again, it made such an impact in my life that it would be a problem if I can easily forget it.

“So my training is still not life threatening enough? Seems like I have been too forgiving to you maggots lately…!”

Suddenly, I feel evil intents in every words Brenna makes. Our gaze meets as Brenna turns back with a devilish smile. Whatever she’s planning, it still sends a chill down my spine as I pray she’s only joking, hopefully.

“But well, I know what to do with you.”

Brenna nonchalantly stands up, she stretches her arms and in a blink of an eye, Brenna is already standing next to me. Before I manage to do anything, she kicks me down and sits on my chest. Her left arm is pinning my right arm, while her right steals my own blunt iron sword as she puts it by my throat. I think this is merely another an attempt to intimidate me, just like how she always does all the time, but her dagger-filled eyes is one thing, my bleeding throat from being cut by her blunt sword is another. Blood loss combined with locked movement makes me feel something I haven’t felt ever since the siege of Melas ended.

Fear.

As my throat continues bleeding from the scratch, Brenna puts her face close to mine as she emotionlessly mutters.

“If this is a battlefield, I wouldn’t hesitate to slit your throat. Do you understand why?”

“Because you kill your enemy on the battlefield. If you have to attack me, then that means I am your enemy. A veteran soldier like you won’t have trouble killing your enemy, no matter who they are...your student or not…”

Right...enemies must be killed. Isn’t that obvious? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing ever since I dragged myself into this mess by my own choice? It doesn’t matter for what righteous causes these humans are fighting for, if they draw their swords against me, it’s only natural to consider them as enemies then do what I must.

Then why do I still have hesitation about it? Why do my hands shake from the thought of consciously ending a life with my own free will, untampered by something like the fear of death or survival instinct?

“I don’t remember you being this dumb, Akuma. As far as I know, you are pretty bright in your own way, then why are you saying such dumb things?”

I throw at Brenna a bewildered look. Did I get it wrong? Wouldn’t a soldier with mind of steel like her consider the destruction of her enemy the priority?

“I wouldn’t hesitate because I don’t have the luxury to make a choice.”

Says Brenna.

“But…”

“If you think you ever have a choice then you’re just deluding yourself, you maggot!”

My instructor yells at me, face to face. My eardrums ring from the sheer sound she made, but my mind is even more puzzled by Brenna’s sudden response. Before I have a chance to ask however, the instructor herself explains.

“Do you really think you are the only one who have to fight? Do you think only you have the privilage to shed blood? Or your comrades truly don’t have a place in your heart?”

Ah...that’s right...I forgot about why I fight in the first place…

Because I don’t want anyone else to die on me anymore.

“Regret killing your enemies, or regret losing your comrades. I hope you know what’s best for you.”

Just as Brenna finishes her speech, I hear the return of my remaining teammates. From the forest entrance, Caelan and Koros emerge, their bodies chained into a huge block of stone made from alchemy as they drag it out of the forest in unison. Their shirts are drenched in sweat, while they try to hang on to their consciousness, it’s blatantly clear they are exhausted. As she catches sight of their return, Brenna nonchalantly gets off my body like the charade earlier is simply daily practice.

“Well done, you two.”

Seeing their succesful arrival as the end result of their assigment, the instructor tells the two fighters to be as ease as she slashes away the chains binding them with her blunt training sword. When their bound is broken, Koros and Caelan fall down to the snowy ground, only a few breaths away from death by exhaustion, probably...Brenna quits spending more time on them, though, since our one remaining teammate is still in the middle of running to the finish line. It takes about a minute until Iola reaches the goal, before letting her legs crumble from sheer exhaustion. Unlike our first practice, this time Iola already has prepared herself a proper jumpsuit for physical training...not that it helped improve her already low stamina over night.

“I...can’t...do it...anymore…”

Iola mutters as she lays herself on the snowy ground, cleanliness be damned.

“It only took you ten days, but you finally managed it, five lap around the forest on your own without rest. I’d say that’s quite an achievement for you, Miss Moreau. Be proud.”

Brenna praises the witch girl, not that the girl is in any condition to react to the praise. Seeing how there’s no point to continue the training when every participants are already beaten from exhaustion, Brenna declares:

“Well, how about we wrap today up early than the usual?”

But no one answers, we are too busy being exhausted to reply. Well, maybe except me, I still have some strength left to reply, but it feels weird to do that by myself while the rest of my team are beaten like kneaded dough.

“Come on, give me some reaction. If you guys don’t, I’ll cancel the two days off I’m going to give you!”

Like a sudden rain to a dried land, the moment the words “days off” reach our ears, we become rejuvenated from the brink of death and flock to the side of Brenna like sheeps to a shepherd.

“Did you just say “Days off”, Instructor? And two of them? You’re not fooling me again like that time in the cafeteria, right?”

“Of course not! Are you doubting your beloved instructor?”

Brenna proudly replies Caelan’s doubt, a doubt not too unprofound. All of us once doubt the words “rest” and “days off” even exist in her vocabulary, at least until today.

“And what's the catch, dear beloved instructor?”

I ask Brenna, knowing in my mind such an easy rest must have another meaning behind it. Brenna simply smiles as she utters a single word.

“Homework!”

-------------------

When the instructor said the word “Homework”, I would expected her to give us a random training regime to do by ourselves, or at least some kind of paperwork to do, like quizzes and the likes.

I just didn’t expect her to lead us to the castle’s stable for the sake of her “Homework”.

Another thing I failed to expect is that the castle’s stable isn’t even a stable. Stables hold horses, but their stable holds huge wolf-like creatures they called Warg. Why they didn’t call their stable a kennel is beyond me, because this place looks like everything a kennel would be: dirty, messy and smelly, only bigger in size in order to keep these wild Wargs behind their iron cages.

Oh damn, the smell...the horrible smell...Iola can be seen trying to protect her nose with her hands, not that it helps her face from turning pale due to the distinct smell...

“Wow, this place smells like shit!”

Nonchalantly says a very excited Caelan.

“Thanks, Caelan. We wouldn’t know without you.”

I reply, sarcastically. Unaffected by our banter, the Orc named Koros suddenly steps forward and takes a deep breath as he comments with a faint smile.

“Smells like home.”

“Exactly!”

Brenna replies with the same enthusiasm as Caelan. She steps forward and waves her hand around to introduce us to this place.

“Work your ass long enough on the frontline and eventually you’d be glad to get to smell this again at the home base.”

Somehow dying on the battlefield doesn’t sound that bad compared to that…

“Does this mean we’ll get our first mission soon, Instructor?”

Koros suddenly asks. His question drags Brenna away from her excitement and resumes her serious role as our instructor.

“A 10 for intuition, Mr.Hafner! As your comrade has correctly guessed, the top brass is currently deciding on what task you will do as your first mission. In the next two days, I’ll be busy being bossed around by the top brass regarding the details and preparations. What I can say with certainty is we’ll depart on the 28th, the day after your break ends.”

So not counting today, we have the 26th and 27th for a break, but with the “homework” Brenna has in store for us, I doubt we can enjoy those days with leisure.

“Regarding your homework, I’ll keep it simple: For the next two days, all of you will have to choose a Warg inside this stable, and you will get accustomed with riding it before our departure. I will not tolerate any excuses and failures!”

Easier said than done. We’re not talking about horses here, but big, filthy and angry wolves the size of horses. And even then I doubt it will be that easy to learn how to ride such a creature in a few days.

“Is it even possible to learn how to ride them in just two days?”

I voice my concern. Suddenly, an armored man walks out from inside of the stable. He has a wolf-shaped helmet, yet despite its imposing design, the dirty apron on his body and a broom on his hand suggests he’s simply a caretaker working in this stable.

“You youngster don’t have anything to worry about. These Wargs are already well trained, because the ones you can choose are mostly those who lost their owners during the invasion. As long as you can get them to accept you, the rest should be simple to pick up from.”

The caretaker replies before turning to our instructor.

“The preparations are done. Your students are good to go, Miss Lodbrok.”

“Well then. Let us go, we don’t have all day.”

After being green-lit, our group follow Brenna and the stable caretaker. The area we were in prior is the stable with already-owned Wargs, as explained by the caretaker as we go. The Wargs here are kept in small individual cages, with saddles nearby for quick preparation in case the riders need a mount in a moment’s notice. The Wargs here are silent, most are soundly sleeping, probably from exhaustion by the constant need for their service in this warring time.

Unlike the already owned Wargs, the Wargs for us are way noisier. These Wargs are locked up in the deepest part of the stable, in big cages capable of holding two to three Wargs at the same time. The tamer ones are simply strolling restlessly inside their cage. The more ferocious Wargs can be seen fighting among each other, which only end with a hit from the caretaker’s broom outside of the cage.

“Here you go. I kept this place as clean as I could, not that it would help by the time tomorrow comes…”

My condolence to the caretaker. He quietly takes a break at the caretaker’s corner, full of tools from brooms, shovels to buckets. That leaves the rest for Brenna to handle.

“Okay then, you kids go take a look. When you see a Warg of your fancy, ask the caretaker to open the cage for you.”

We scramble when Brenna gives us our cue, but aside from Caelan whose excitement leads him to be the first to approach the cages, the rest of us still have some reservation about this whole assignment. Me? Certainly it’s not that difficult to guess: Wargs look like wolves, wolves are related to dogs, therefore Wargs=Dogs, and I always approach dogs slowly with caution! Iola is still recovering from the terrible smell around, while Koros the Orc...I don’t think he has any personnal problems here, but simply remains because he has questions for our instructor.

“Isn’t it still too soon for our first mission, Miss Lodbrok? I don’t think half a month worth of training is enough for us to take on the missions only the 2nd and 3rd years are capable enough to do.”

A concerned look appears on Brenna’s face as she reacts to Koros’s question. It does not seem like this is an issue the woman wants to address directly to her students, but it would be awkward to keep her silence like this, and so, Brenna replies.

“That’s what I thought as well, but you know how the top brass is. With how dire our situation is, time isn’t a luxury we can afford. We need capable soldiers right now, even if it means putting you first years into the fray.”

Yet, despite the heavy conversation, Brenna still manages to put a smile on her lips.

“But I wouldn’t allow you brats to be kicked out of here if I’m not confident in your abilities. Like I said before, all of you showed lots of potential simply by being the first students to arrive the moment our realm was in peril. I did what I could with the time I had, you and Caelan can already work together as an element, Iola trained her body to keep us with the group while Akuma developed a protective instinct to a more vulnerable member like Iola. We can work out the rest as we go and do missions.”

Her answer gives Koros a sense of ease. The green Orc nods as a silent reply and returns to pick a mount.

“Come on, work on your mount already you slackers. We don’t have all day!”

With a reminder from Brenna, I stop looking around and join the rest of my group in a search for suitable mounts. Iola slowly follows behind, still shielding her nose from the Wargs’ territorial markings. Unexpectedly, we find Caelan’s already finished with his task. He’s fearlessly putting his right arm into the cage and let a Warg who fancies him lick it like a good dog, nevermind that the sheer size of the grey Warg is enough to make any normal human man back in my world tremble in fear. Caelan is certainly way too fearless for his own good.

“That was fast.”

“Hehe, I kinda cheated for a bit. This little fella here is the same Warg I borrowed from the Red Cloaks during the humans’ attack. It’s a surprise they kept him here, and I’m even more surprised he still remembers me!”

The young devilman pats the Warg on his head. The ferocious wolf now simply looks like a precious puppy before Caelan.

“Who’s a good Butterfly? Who’s a good Butterfly? You are!”

“Wait, you name a huge ass bloodthrusty furry and smelly Warg...Butterfly?”

“Butterflies are cool!”

There’s a shinning glitter in his eyes that resembles the purity of a child, although I really can’t connect how can you look at a Warg and immidiately name it Butterfly just because butterflies are cool...But well, I won’t try to dwell more inside of Caelan’s thought pattern, it’s simply futile to make some sense out of it.

“Still, this might be easier than I thought.”

The Wargs seem chill enough, they might just be your ordinary dogs, but bigger in size. I try reaching my hand onto the iron bars for a closer look at the Warg. Yet, unexpectedly, what was an oversized dog seconds earlier turns into a ferious wolf loudly barking at my face as it tries to claw its way out of the cage for a piece of me. The sudden mood swing forces me to step back away from the cage with my heart still having a wild dance inside my chest.

“Oh, I forgot to mention this. The Wargs are trained to react negatively to the smell of humans. So, to those in our group who might have human relations, please be careful in approaching the Wargs.”

Brenna comments with a nonchalant attitude, nevermind the fact her student just almost got scared to death by a Warg…

“You could have said that sooner!”

“My bad, I simply don’t have a manual in hand on how to give advices for members who might be human in my group of demonkind students.”

Brenna’s joke aside, this sudden revelation makes me rethink about my status as a human pretending to be a demon. I find it rather strange my instructor still have yet to accuse me as being a human who somehow found himself among the ranks of demons, then I look at Iola, who’s approaching a cage next to Butterfly before being scared away by the barking Wargs. This humanity issue probably isn’t that strange in the Demon Realm. I guess to a Warg, a Witch or Familiar with human relation are still human in their eyes.

“You guys just don’t want to make this easy, don’t you?”

I bark my complain at the Wargs as I reinforce my stance. Despite the setbacks, I’m determined to make this assignment a success. This is simply the first trial, I won’t accomplish anything if I can’t even get a mount to support my ventures in the Demon Realm!

Easier said than done, though. Everytime I approach a cage, the Wargs inside rush at my side with looks that kill. Most of the Wargs here seem to recognize me as a human, and they simply obey the training put inside their beastly instinct. This is tough, I need a proper plan to approach this problem.

“Mister Caretaker? Can you open this cage? I found a Warg that fits my liking.”

Says Koros the Orc as he stands in front of a cage. True to his earlier words, the caretaker approaches and unlocks the cage with a wave of his hand before the lock. Magically, the lock opens itself like some sort of automatic identification lock, letting Koros get his big Orc body inside the cage holding three Wargs.

Fortunately, a slaughter doesn’t happen. Two Wargs walk out of the way for Koros to approach the last one. His Warg of choice is bigger than the other two common Warg, most likely the Alpha of this cage. It stands in silent, waiting for its tamer to arrive. However, Koros stops walking midway and stands still in the middle of the cage. He holds his empty left hand toward the Alpha. At that moment, the two other Wargs move, circling around as if preparing to strike should this huge, green humanoid creature causes any harm to their leader.

“Easy there, noble one. I hold no malicious intent.”

Koros looks at the Warg in the eyes, not blinking even for a second. Their gaze connect, between beast and a man who looks like a beast. Suddenly, Koros moves his feet. The Warg’s stance stiffens in caution, yet it neither attacks nor shows any hostility toward the Orc. Soon, their distance gets closer, the Warg’s face is now within Koros’s arm length, and him just about a meter between its jaws.

“Come.”

Silently utters Koros. He waits for the Warg to response. The Warg hesisates for a second before letting its head touch his hand, signaling its acceptance of its new rider. Koros gently pets the Warg with care, sealing the deal between Orc and beast.

“Your name from now on will be Bardou. Let’s work hard together.”

When his task is done, Koros leaves the cage and let the caretaker locks it back again.

“Impressive imprint you did there. I hardly see anyone who can do it that well.”

“True, you certainly made it look easy.”

I complement the caretaker’s comment with my own. Koros simply stays humble and shakes his head.

“Orcs and Wargs already have good affinity with each other. My hometown also bred lots of Wargs for the army. I simply follow the teachings of those more experienced than me.”

Without saying anything else, Koros leaves in search for Brenna who is, for some reason, not around our vicinity. Well, he has always been the silent type. I guess this is the most I can get him to talk.

Still, watching him does give me some pointers on how to do this right. The Wargs fear those who don’t fear them. By keeping his cool, Koros earned the Alpha’s respect and the right to be its rider. The rest is simply applying them to pratice...if the Wargs don’t try to eat me at first sight.

“Hah...what can I do?”

I sigh out loud. Sensing my worries, the caretaker asks.

“What’s the matter, young lad? Just pick any Warg you like.”

“I would if they just stop wanting a piece of me at first sight...Aside from these Wargs, are there any older or weaker Wargs around? The ones tame enough for a beginner rider to approach and not get eaten…?”

The caretaker unfortunately shakes his head.

“We don’t have any Warg like that. The missions Melas soldiers undertook demand a lot from these Wargs. We keep only the most capable Wargs inside this stable.”

“I see. That’s too bad…”

I sigh. It’s unfortunate but there’s nothing I can do about it. I guess extreme situations require extreme methods. What if I spray some Warg dung on my clothes as a ward? Sure, my dignity as a demon (human) being will be gone forever, but it’s an inevitable sacrifice I willing to pay…

“That being said, we do have one troublesome Warg different than the others.”

The sudden comment from the caretaker drags me back from the middle of planning my dung-filled battle plan.

“What do you mean by troublesome?”

The caretaker says nothing else. He makes signs to make me follow him to the end corner of the stable and points at the last cage of the row. Inside the cage lies a single Warg, soundly sleeping and unaware of the rowdy visitors outside. Unlike the other Wargs which have grey fur, this one has black fur that oozes an aura of intimidation.

“What is this one’s problem?”

“It’s a wild Warg they captured in the aftermath of the human invasion. This is one ferocious Warg, I tell ya. It attacked and wounded several of our soldiers. After being captured and put inside here, it still attacked the trainers who tried to tame it. Any Wargs shared its cage ended up bloodied by it and had to be moved elsewhere. Even feeding it and keeping the cage clean are difficult to do, it always try to escape when the chance arise. Keeping it here really makes my life more miserable than it is…”

I feel like I have heard something less than an explanation and more of a common low-wage job rant...Still, it sounds like this one is a real badass, the opposite from what I seek in a mount.

“So why is it still here?”

“Some big shot soldiers like its ferocity enough to ask us to keep it around in hope it gets tamed. Though even they ran out of patience. If no one manages to tame it until next week, they will put it to death.”

I look at the sleeping Warg, still unaware of what the soldiers have in plan for it. Of course they can’t just release a beast like this into the wild, it’s too dangerous. Still, to kill such a beast does sound like a waste.

I rest my hand the cage’s iron bars as I gaze upon this majestic black Warg. Suddenly, it opens one of its eye and look at me. A red eye, as red as blood. In a brief moment, our eyes meet. The thought of sharing the same gaze with a violent beast sends chill down my spine, but despite the nasty rumors and narrations, the so called wild and untamed Warg remains silent in its nap. After feeling tired of enduring the unwanted guests, the beast closes its eye, returning to sleep.

“Yep, thanks, but no thanks.”

I apologize to the caretaker before leaving away. I’m sure he is confused for refusing like this after all the trouble I asked of him, but I already know I have my limits. This is no mere beast I’m dealing with, this is a beast seasoned soldiers failed to tame, and if better men had tried and failed, what chances do I have? I’m only seeking for a mount, not another bag of trouble.

“Back to square one then…”

I walk back around the stable in search of a Warg whose mood at this moment is hopefully better enough to accept me, but my luck has yet to recieve a bone. Caelan and Koros are nowhere to be found, they probably reported to the Instructor and headed back to enjoy their break before actually doing the assignment. I could really use some of their help and advices…

I guess back to the Dung plan with me...

As my search continues, I come across a strange cage. Inside there lies a lone resting Warg with body full of scars, and my instructor Brenna is lying on its belly for some unknown reason. The Warg looks at me with its sole remaining right eye, cleary agitated just like the rest, but its wounds don’t allow it to do anything else but resting.

“They said my survival was a miracle.”

Brenna suddenly speaks. I guess her Warg’s reaction is enough for her to tell it’s me as the one who approached them.

“What a load of bullshit. Can you believe it?”

Brenna gently strokes the scarred Warg with a touch filled of love, unlike her usual iron fist packed with pain for whoever on the recieving end.

“I would have died back then if not for Badb dragging her half-dead body to bring my tattered self here. There was no miracle or magic at work. Put your trust and love to your mount, and they will reward you with the same.”

Suddenly, Brenna turns her head back to me and says.

“Have you found a suitable mount yet? Caelan and Koros are already done with theirs. If you don’t, you’ll have to walk on your feet for your first mission, and I can tell you it won’t be a pleasant experience.”

“Y-Yes madam...I’ll get to work right away.”

I quickly excuse myself. Shit, now I have even more pressure to get this done. I frantically do another search around the stable, but the result is the same, no Wargs here accept someone full of human scent as their rider. What should I do now?

“Hey missy! You can’t do that!”

Yells the caretaker. Since my other two male team members already left, that means Iola is the one causing trouble here. I head to the place where the caretaker is yelling, and he does it for good reason. Inside an opened cage lies Iola casually riding on the back of a Warg. I think it wouldn’t allowed her to ride it that easily if not for her ultilizing her magic tome and trapped the other Wargs with conjured vines out of nowhere. The poor thing probably doesn’t want to suffer the same fate as the others and obeyed her out of fear.

“Please be at ease. I only restrained them. I will release them after I’m done bonding with this cute little one.”

Iola gently pats the Warg she’s riding on the head. The poor thing simply reacts with fear and terror. It reluctantly takes Iola for a short stroll around the cage as a sign of obidience. Feeling satisfied, the young witch jumps off from the Warg’s back. The caretaker angrily locks the cage after she gets out with a sastified smile from the result. Iola closes her personal magic tome, and the vines she conjured out of the ground disappear as the result, releasing the Wargs trapped prior.

“That’s hardly bonding, that’s coercion.”

“The only way to get things done, I’m afraid. They’re just too stubborn to obey normally. What you can’t do with words, you do with force, I believe that’s the Demon Realm way of doing things. If these beasts don’t believe I’m part of the demonkind just because of a few of my human blood, then I just have to prove it to them.”

Iola sternly replies to my opinion. With her magic tome in hand, Iola acts like a different person than her normal meek self when we were doing training excersise. Then again, as a Witch, this might actually be how she is when there is no demonic instructor behind her back.

“I’ll leave the riding exercise for tomorrow. Today’s training already drained the life out of me, I’m afraid, ha ha. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Akuma. Best of luck to you.”

The witch girl bids her goodbye before heading off. In the end, despite being angry, the caretaker doesn’t scold Iola for her actions, probably because of her explanation afterward. She resorted to force because her words have no meaning to the beasts. The circumstances made her did what she had to.

Suddenly, my mind remembers that snowy day where everything burned to hell as I faced a dragon whose words and reasons could no longer reach her ears. Even with the fear of death, I’m still baffed how I didn’t resort to violence and attack her that day.

The Demon Realm way of doing things, heh?

Screw that, I’ll do things my own way.

“That just leaves you, young man. You don’t have much time left, I will have to close the stable soon.”

I drag my hands down my face to tear away the worries I had in my mind.

“I know. Please open the black Warg’s cage for me. I have decided.”

“Are you absolutely sure? You refused earlier, I can sort of understand why. Yet still, why try again?”

I take off my jacket which contains my handgun and throw it on the ground, leaving me with only my sweaty shirt and pants...and with no weapons in hand, no daggers, no swords, no guns, no magic tomes, nothing but my two hands and feet. If I’m about to do something stupid, might as well go all the way.

“I’m certainly and absolutely unsure about this, but that won’t stop me from trying.”

Both of us reach the cage where the black Warg lies. Reluctantly, the caretaker opens the cage for me to get inside. For understandable reason, the caretaker closes the cage after my entry and stands by the entrance unlike his relaxed attitude regarding other cages, leaving me alone with the sleeping beast.

“Well hello there, beauty…”

My welcoming words sound like a joke, I doubt it serves as anything but to amuse me from the fear locking my feet in stone. Still, the joke works, and the black, humongous, dirty and furry sleeping beauty wakes up from the slumber to greet the daring visitor trying not to piss his pant.

Shit...this Warg is way bigger than I thought…

Our gaze meet once again. I stare straight into the beast. Unlike before, my presence inside its territory does naught but anger the Warg. I’m an unwelcomed guest here, and this host already has a history of dealing guests like me with violence.

Still, don’t mind me barging in though. I have dealt with a worse house host than this one.

“Easy there. I mean you no harm!”

I spread out both of my empty hands to show the beast I have no weapons on me. Learning after Koros earlier, I put my left hand toward the Warg as I continue staring into the beast’s red eyes. If there is any moment that demands all of my courage, then here it is! I have to show no fear, for the first to show fear is the one who lose!

“I certainly don’t speak the barking language, and I doubt you understand the demon tongue as well. But let’s us speak through actions, shall we?”

Right at that moment, the Warg rushes at me and rams its head at my torso, throwing me straight at the cage’s iron bars.

“Argh!”

“Hey! Are you alright!? I already told you. It’s useless trying to tame something like it!”

The caretaker hopelessly yells from the outside of the cage. He certainly can open the cage and get inside to check on me, but I understand why he didn’t, not that would expect him to. I already made up my mind to try and do this by myself. Still, it certainly hurts a lot. I think I have a broken rib from that ram attack earlier. This is certainly not the strength of a beast waiting for the moment to get killed like livestocks. I can understand why soldiers here want it to be their mount.

“I’m okay...I’m still okay...at least for now.”

But unfortunely for them, I will be the one to claim it instead!

“You sure are a feisty one, aren’t you? Aren’t too different from that girl...haha.”

I drag my body ups. The life Bjarni exchanged for mine won’t stay down that easily. Our gaze exchange continues. This time, the Warg bares its fangs. Saliva continues to flow out of its mouth. Its eyes full of bloodlust. Still, it has yet to set it jaws on me as if allowing me a moment to get out. But I won’t, not until I have this beast within my grasp.

“They are going to kill you soon...if you don’t have any rider by next week. And I will hardly stay alive without a mount for my first mission...We’re both screwed if we fail to make this work. So...ram me all you want if that’s what it takes! I will make you my mount regardless!”

And the angry beast complies, though by utilizing its claws instead of its head. Blood splatters across the cage as the claws leave their marks on my torso. The pain paralyzes my body, enough to keep my mouth shut, but not enough to stop me from groaning.

“Arghh…!”

Shit, this hurts, this hurts so much. The wounds aren’t too deep, but it’s still painful regardless. The black Warg pins my tattered body down with its paw. It approaches me, facing my face directly. I can smell its breath and the saliva drooling on my face, just centimeters away between my face and its jaw. If it wants to devour my head, this is the perfect moment.

But the beast doesn’t do anything aside from staring.

Blood loss makes my breath feel heavier. These wounds combined with my earlier injuries makes me unable to move my body and let me at the beast’s mercy, but I can at least still able to move my hand.

It’s so close. Very close. My hand reaches to the Warg, despite the signs telling me I shouldn’t. Yet, I feel like I can make it, I can touch its head and see for myself whether this proud and violent Warg may accept me as its rider.

But it ends right there. Suddenly, I hear someone opening the cage. Before I can make out who that is, a shovel comes straight at the Warg’s head, bashing it away from me. The Warg groans in pain as it falls back to the corner of the cage.

This figure...it’s not the caretaker. The one holding the cleaning shovel is Brenna Lodbrok, a very furious Brenna Lodbrok.

“I was told they planned to take care of you by next week…”

Brenna turns her gaze to me, or rather, the wounds on my torso, with blood still flowing out from the fresh wound before returning her gaze to an equally angry Warg.

“...but I can’t wait that long!”

The Warg attacks Brenna, but even with a simple shovel in hand, Brenna proves to be too much for a beast to handle. Brenna beats the oncoming Warg on the head before repeatingly slamming the shovel down the Warg’s body with full intention to kill. The once prideful Wargs now whimpers like a puppy, a very bloodied puppy just as pitiful as the one it attacked earlier.

In the end, we are the same.

“Stop!”

Brenna’s shovel slams down my shoulder, breaking the bones beneath, just what I expected from taking a full force attack by Brenna. Though she does so unwittingly, not out of malicious intent, because I get in her way on purpose, using my body to shield the bloodied black Warg from her wrath.

“You...you idiot! What are you doing!?”

Understandbly yells Brenna.

“I can’t let you beat my mount to death...can’t I…?”

I smile. I don’t know why, but I smile for some reason. Still, the pain quickly reduces me to my sorry state earlier, forcing Brenna to abandon her quick execution and drags me out of the cage for the infirmary. In the end, I somehow end up being wounded and beaten to half dead again. I hope this won’t turn into a habit.

And about the black Warg?

I guess...I’ll have to continue the taming...tomorrow...