“From time immemorial to the dawn of the Tri-Era and the dusk of the Triumvirate Empire, ‘The Rite’ was the mandatory right of all of the high blood. The generation gifted by the Gods. ‘The Rite’ began with the first sons and daughters of the first chosen. When the first son died who eldest amongst the descendants of the first chosen. He grew grotesque with his envy of the first chosen who was given the mantle of eternal vigilance. The first son was cast down, and for the rest of the descendants, the first chosen inscribed ‘The Rite’ into hallowed stone.” “As such, as is written, by the gift to the end, shall be moved through fire into eternal paradise.” “Cremations is what the scriptures entailed from what I’ve have witnessed through the passing of Lord Recrant, a vassal lord of the Baron of Recrest. ‘The Rite’ ceremony, excluded the common folks, garbing those of ‘highblood’ in white. For Three millennia, all three Religions that branched out from the Triumvirate Empire followed this edict. Until hundred years ago, when the Regalian Religion absconded from ‘The Rite’ burying the high blood among the common folk.” ----Journal Entry #Twelve Radolf Almata. “Shove it, Yokel.” A gruff looking sergeant not yet in his twilight years pushed Gulcasa to the forefront. In Front of the growing line that was heading towards the training grounds. Gulcasa stumbled onto a furrowed growth of weeds. He inhaled a cursed from his pains, with his new muscles still tender from his Strength status was altered, Gulcasa continued on. Stepping through the high roped fence, Gulcasa entered into the training grounds. A place where men would practice with sword and pike. Sometimes, or often a place where most of the common sort would their sink Regis coffers into illegal fisticuffs of what soldiers do. Gulcasa cursed under his breath now being an illegal participant of an upcoming brawl. He could already see the men around him swapping their earnings for the prize or the witness of blood, specifically young blood--his blood. “Think yer smart, aye boy.” The thick looking man before him said. The one who insulted his company and his brother. An uncontrolled and boundless rage began to birth within Gulcasa’s center. The rage passed through his shoulders then rushed into his tightly controlled fist. This rage within Gulcasa was not new, but old, not old like old grass that was fairly grazed, but like of sprout to oak. Since he was a child, growing envy of the able started. And with envy, flourished rage. The kids who tormented him didn’t help either, but at this present, these thoughts and memories are not worth a damn. The common blood Colonel Dresken of the Right Battalion stepped in the middle of the three men. Gulcasa cursed the man’s heavy steps. Gulcasa did not know the man, but he did know the man’s reputation. A cruel man of unimaginable lust. Not the lust of brothels, which are scattered throughout towns bordering the baron’s borders, but the lust of command. Gulcasa would sometimes hear his brother Raicer curse the Colonel’s name from time to time. He would hear his brother cursed the man’s name whenever they of the 98th were ordered would sortie out against the enemy with a two to one odds. Somehow through the brilliance of his elder brother, their regiment would survive--well most of the time... but not this time... Gulcasa cursed the Colonel’s name, following the tradition his brother started. The memory of the last battle still fresh and covered in gunpowder smoke in his mind. “What’s a man’s honor when they are buried among the dirt, boy?” Gulcasa’s father grunts into his angry mind. Gulcasa remembered when it was first spoken, amongst the graves of the deceased with his father drunk with wine. Before his father and he was the buried remains of his father’s friend who was stabbed through the jugular in a tavern brawl. The man died defending his honor as he thought he should. Gulcasa rubbed his neck at the cost. The Colonel gave a wide grin, wrinkling his bald scalp on how eager he was at the current situation. “This donnybrook will be a one on two--scrap,” He grinned. Gulcasa gaped at the Colonel’s unsporting rules. He then looked at the two veterans he was about to exchange with. The thick-set man with balding blonde hair, a thick square mustache smacked symmetrically on his wide face. The other was lanky with brunette mutton chops, taller than most men. Both the men beamed at the Colonel’s decision to fight Gulcasa, two on one. “Bloody arse.” Gulcasa cursed under his breath. He could argue against the idea of boxing the two at the same time but knew his words would be in vain. The cruel smirk the Colonel was giving him was so intent that it sent a shiver down Gulcasa’s tense and muscled back. The two men both took their crimson coats off. Pulling their straps aside, they pulled off their upper cotton undergarments. There were sweat marks creasing the sides of their shirts. The aroma they gave off made Gulcasa nearly puke his recent meal into the padded dirt. The two men both pump their hairy chest out, showing their cruel scars and their circular bullet scars. The crowd around the circle roared in approval to their fellow men. Everyone around Gulcasa was off similar age, except him. There were no young men in this camp, not anymore. Only the young and brave die before their time, he thought as he gander the crowd. Thinking back of his brother, Gulcasa’s tense demeanor turned down to hollow emptiness. Gulcasa did not have his own crimson coat. He must've lost it during his recent battle. He pulled off his white cotton shirt off his person and threw it off to the side, where the padded dirt was driest. The two hairy chested men both gawked at Gulcasa in utter disbelief. Gulcasa confused turn to face what was behind him. It was nothing, just a bunch of men gawking back at him. Still confused, he looked back towards them and the Colonel who was not grinning at all; but scrutinizing him closely. Gulcasa was about to ask what was everyone on about when one of the men who were about to brawl with him spoke. “Ye ain’t no noble boy?” Gulcasa still confused shook his head in the negative. The lanky man’s face gaped further. He then went closer to the blonde thick man. “You sure you want to do this? This Yokel has muscles bursting out of the seams. It ain’t right.” “Must of think he’s a big deal round here.” The thick man grunted. Gulcasa could not tell if the two men several paces in front of him were whispering to each other, wanting him to hear them. It did not make much sense why they were discussing his appearance. Gulcasa than took a gander down at his person, his chest was bigger than before. He didn’t really have a chest, to begin with. But now, his pectoral muscles look like they were as the lanky man said. Bursting out of the seams. Gulcasa torso was heavily muscled, muscles he did not see during his alteration. His muscles were defined in curvature, symmetrical and thick. He places his left hand down onto his abdomen. His stomach was alien to his memories. He recalled having a flat stomach but now, everything was so different. It felt like his entire body was replaced with something else, something unnatural. As he lifts his hand off his stomach, he looked at his left bicep. Shock made him step back. His bicep and triceps were bigger than before, but that was not the reason he stepped back in shock. It was the pale skin tone of his left arm that shook him. Comparing to the rest of his body, which was naturally tanned in complexion, his left arm in comparison was pale like the color was strung out to die. A jagged spider like scarred line separated his left arm from his whole body. The scarring was linked around his shoulders. Gulcasa’s left shoulder was heavily scarred, with scarring he had never seen before. It felt like his entire left arm was alien to his whole entire body. Numbness began to crawl up his spine as his left arm tingles down to his attention. Colonel Dresken faced the two veterans. He grunted in disgust at their nervous looks they were directing towards Gulcasa. “Get yer fisticuffs ready. No rules.” The Colonel growled. He turned around and walked off to step out of the circular pickets. Gulcasa stared at the back of the Colonel. The Colonel turned around to face them. Gulcasa was confused about his body, but he was tensed up for violence. Staring the Colonel to signal them to start, he waited but no action was answered. Confused, he dumbfoundedly stares at the Colonel. Wham! A clenched fist smashed through his right cheek. The assault came from the two men his body was faced towards. He instinctively lifted both his arms to guard his head against the multiple jabs he received. ‘No rules.’ Gulcasa spat out blood, cursing himself for a fool. Dodging his head to the side from a straight jab from the thick man. Gulcasa wanted to curse the man as a sharper but could not spare the moment. He was concentrating on the man’s precise and practiced punches. “Silence, my boy--is your best approach. Speaking will most likely get you dead.” His dad would remark within the furrows of his memory. Staying Silent, Gulcasa pressed on against the heavy assault he was receiving. Gulcasa heard one the sergeants in the crowd discussing his prospects in the bout. “One Regis silver if he gets him under sixty.” The sergeant said. “Make it an even two, and I’ll take that bet.” Another of the sergeants replied, affirming the bet. Gulcasa’s high Perception was beginning to distract him, especially now when he just had taken jab straight to his face, nearly snapping his nose out of place. “Make it three.” Another man said. “He looks tough, but still too young to have gotten any experience. Besides---I have seen that fellow he’s fighting in three other bouts.” Gulcasa frown at the knowledge. It’s true Gulcasa barely knew how to fight with fisticuffs, he rarely experiences such an event, but when he does, usually he just huddles up into a ball and waits for his older brother to arrive. Wham! Again, Gulcasa got smacked with a left hook on his right face. He should really not get distracted. “Five Regis copper on the boy.” One gruffer man grunted. At least he was not alone in this, Gulcasa sighed. The blonde man kept jabbing him with his right fist. Gulcasa tried to counter back, but could not let his guard down from the man’s left hooks. Gulcasa felt slow with the weight of his bulky muscles. He was so heavy before his alteration was lighter on his feet and everything felt natural. But now his body was alien as if he was amateurishly puppeteering his own body. His left arm was itching from the bruising. The itching was hindering the focus. The itchy feel felt like scabies nestling into his flesh, irritating his decisions. Gulcasa cursed at the irritation. He was glaring at everything, the thick man who was pommelling him, at his heavy arms and the crowds jeering at the brawl. Slowly, the rage began to build within him. Gulcasa was sixteen years of age, and he was treated like a mistreated dog against his handler. The frustration of the constant jabs and left hooks fueled his rage, killing his defensive focus. Gritting his teeth, he kept his frustrating scream down. Gulcasa threw a jab to counter the punch that the man backed up with his weight. Gulcasa’s left jab spasm erratically when he stretched to slam his fist to slam at the man’s guard. Worried, he retracted back his arm to guard against a right hook. His left arm spasmed. The man’s right hook smash Gulcasa jaw on the left side. He stepped back at the force. He nearly tripped into the padded ground, but hold steady with his heavyweight. The blonde man grinned at Gulcasa, along with the lanky man behind him who was patiently awaiting his turn. Colonel Dresken face was unfazed with the fight before him, bored with the bout he said. “It looks like the yokel’s appearance is deceiving. Pity would’ve liked to have watched a proper brawl.” Always looking down upon, Gulcasa gritted his teeth at the colonel’s remarks. His left arm was jittering. “Finish him off.” The Lanky man said, excited at the spatters of blood Gulcasa sprinkled each time he got a pummelled. The blonde man annoyed with his companion gave the lanky man a cruel snarl. He swiveled his head back towards Gulcasa’s hunched form. The thick man lifted both his arms again into a boxing stance. He pivoted his foot, to spring for a charging punch ready to force Gulcasa into the ground. Gulcasa was tired, his muscles were heavy and his left arm was itching and twitching terribly. Fueled by his stubborn sense of pride to stand for his brother and his Regiment, Gulcasa tensed up his guard. The thick man sprang with a left jab aiming for Gulcasa’s cranium which he blocked with his arms. The man followed up with a right uppercut into Gulcasa abdominal region knocking the wind out of him. Having momentum with him, the man swung to lay Gulcasa flat onto the dirt. Unconscious red was all Gulcasa could see when he landed on the dirt. The sound of jeering was all around him. Taunting his rage to lash out. Gulcasa nostrils were bleeding, the last connecting fist splinted the rubbery bone of his nose to jag to the side. Blood was constantly dripping into his lips. Gulcasa tasted the iron salt of his blood. His Strength felt useless to him, what's the point of having so much strength when he could not do anything about it. The jeering of the crowd around kept hollering him to get up for more abuse. Gulcasa’s rage grew in a crescendo at that moment, a feral unadulterated crescendo. Gulcasa sprang out from the mud of the ground that was catered with his sweat and blood. In an instant, he stood up and sprang for a tackle. A whispering voice crawled within the dark depths of his mind. His left arm irritating twitched, excited about what's to come. Gulcasa could no comprehend this alien rage that had overtaken him, yearning him to the frenzy. Hollering yells of glee were silence by Gulcasa’s frenzied grapple of the thick blonde man. They were both on the floor, Gulcasa on top, ripping and pommelling. Gulcasa fingernails were bloody. The violence was not fisticuffs no more, but an unadulterated struggle for the survival. The lanky man saw his fellow go down with the Yokel Lunatic. Gulcasa was ripping through the thick man’s upper body with supernatural frenzied strength. Chunks of meat began to patter down across the padded dirt of the brawling circle. Gulcasa did not know what gave the Lanky man courage to tackle him. At the edge of Gulcasa mind, he just sat there and watch his body instinctively moving without his direction. He was horrified at the gore but fixated at violence. The lanky man tackled Gulcasa away from his companion. Undeterred, Gulcasa took the blows that the lanky man gave him. Gulcasa erupted both his gory hands, one pales the other not, to grip the skull of the lanky man. Gulcasa’s left thumb began to press on the man’s right eyeball. He pressed pressure into it. The eyeball exploding in white mucus and red trickles. The lanky man screamed his pain into a faint, collapsing the man fell a top Gulcasa. Unsatisfied, Gulcasa continued to squeeze the man’s cranium. The other man who had his neck brutally mauled by Gulcasa’s assault laid unconscious and bleeding profusely beside them. Gulcasa was snarling with rage-induced frenzied, his only focus was to crack the skull that was in his grip. Multiple hands began to touch him, pulling and holding him down. He instinctively struggled at the haphazard assault with his frenzied thoughts arrayed by the haze of blood. He tried to dig his fingers into the face of the unconscious man before him. Gulcasa could hear himself frantically screaming with joyful glee, insane with his frenzy. A rifle stock slams straight down into his forehead. The eye-splitting ring dazed him into confusion, but for a moment. “Did that get him?” A man yelled. Thump. “Keep going.” Thump. The thumping continued, yet still, Gulcasa could not go unconscious. His gory left hand continued his piercing pressure into the unconscious man’s face. The rage consumed the very essences of Gulcasa being. Scared of the unfeeling silences, Gulcasa continued to grip onto the madness of it all. Thump. Gulcasa’s hazy red vision began to shut down and fade into darkness.