God’s Tree

The air was thick with the weight of impending battle.

Argolaith, Kaelred, and Malakar knew the Veiled Order would not sit idly after their defeat at the temple. They would return, and this time, they wouldn't hold back.

So they had no choice but to be ready.

Back in the Silver Fang Guild Hall, the trio sat in a secluded corner, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the walls.

Kaelred exhaled. "Alright, let's be honest—we survived by luck last time. If their leader comes back, we won't be so lucky again."

Malakar nodded. "True. Which is why we need to ensure that next time, we set the battlefield's terms—not them."

Argolaith smirked. "Then let's get to work."

Morning arrived, and the three of them ventured outside the city walls to a secluded, rocky expanse—an ideal place for training away from prying eyes.

Malakar stood before them, his dark robes swaying slightly. "Let's start with your weaknesses."

Kaelred raised an eyebrow. "Way to motivate us."

Malakar smirked. "You'll thank me later."

He pointed at Argolaith.

"Your combat instincts are impressive, but you rely too much on brute force. You need to refine your swordsmanship—precision over raw power."

Then he turned to Kaelred.

"You're sharp, but your movements are still too rigid. In battle, hesitation is death. You need to flow like water, adapt to your opponent's rhythm."

Kaelred scoffed. "And what about you?"

Malakar's glowing eyes narrowed. "Me? I am perfect."

Argolaith burst out laughing. "And humble too."

Kaelred rolled his eyes. "Of course. Let's just start."

Argolaith started with sword drills, focusing on refining his strikes. Malakar set up obstacles and shifting targets, forcing him to react mid-movement rather than relying on pre-planned attacks.

Every time Argolaith hesitated, Malakar punished him with a lightning-fast strike from his wooden training staff.

"You're overthinking. Attack with intent, not hesitation." Malakar chided.

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"Fine." Argolaith exhaled, his grip tightening.

This time, he moved instinctively, his sword carving through the air with deadly precision.

Malakar nodded in approval. "Better. Again."

Meanwhile, Kaelred was forced into a brutal agility course.

Malakar created shadowy dummies, forcing Kaelred to dodge and maneuver around fast-moving, unpredictable strikes.

Kaelred barely avoided a sweeping attack, panting. "I swear, you enjoy torturing us."

Malakar smirked. "This is nothing. You should see what I went through in my early days."

Kaelred ducked under another strike, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself to keep moving.

His footwork improved—his movements becoming smoother, more efficient.

Malakar watched, satisfied. "Good. Now let's add weapons to the equation."

Kaelred groaned. "Of course."

As the day stretched on, Malakar pushed them further.

He had Kaelred practice throwing daggers while dodging attacks.

He forced Argolaith to fight blindfolded, relying only on his instincts and hearing.

He had both of them fight in complete silence, learning how to communicate through movement alone.

Every drill pushed them past their limits.

And yet—they grew stronger.

By nightfall, both Argolaith and Kaelred were exhausted, battered, but more refined.

Kaelred collapsed onto a rock, wiping sweat from his brow. "If we survive the next fight, I swear I'm taking a week off."

Argolaith stretched his arms, wincing. "Agreed. But admit it—you're feeling sharper already."

Kaelred sighed. "Fine. Maybe."

Malakar smirked. "Good. Because training isn't over yet."

Both of them groaned.

Malakar chuckled. "Rest for now. Tomorrow, we work on countering magic users."

Argolaith smirked. "Now that sounds interesting."

Kaelred groaned. "Now that sounds awful."

Malakar grinned. "Oh, it will be."

As they rested beneath the night sky, they knew—

This training was the difference between survival and death.

The Veiled Order would come.

But this time—

Argolaith and Kaelred would be ready.

The night air was cool against their bruised and battered skin.

Argolaith and Kaelred sat near a small campfire, the crackling flames casting long shadows over the rocky expanse where they trained. Their muscles ached from the previous day's relentless drills, but their minds were sharper than ever.

Malakar stood across from them, his glowing eyes faint in the dim light.

"Tomorrow, we face magic."

Kaelred let out a tired sigh. "Great. Just what I wanted—more ways to get burned alive."

Argolaith smirked. "Come on, Kaelred. It'll be fun."

Kaelred gave him a flat stare. "Fun? You're insane."

Malakar chuckled. "Fun or not, you need to learn. You won't always be fighting people like me—some will have abilities beyond what you can comprehend. If you can't adapt, you'll die."

Kaelred shook his head. "You really have a way with words."

Malakar ignored him. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, you'll learn what it means to fight a mage."

The fire flickered, the embers rising into the night.

A storm was coming.

Morning came swiftly, and with it, the second phase of training.

The rocky terrain they used for drills had been altered overnight, Malakar's influence shaping the battlefield. The air hummed with residual energy, making the very ground feel restless beneath their feet.

Kaelred stretched his arms. "Alright, I'm awake. What's first?"

Malakar raised a hand. "Survival."

The air around them darkened.

Then—fire erupted from the ground.

Kaelred leapt backward, nearly falling on his face. "What the hell?!"

Malakar smirked. "Lesson one: Fire mages don't wait for you to be ready."

Argolaith had already moved, rolling to the side, sword drawn. His eyes locked onto Malakar, already strategizing.

Then the real fight began.

Malakar barely moved, but the magic around him did.

Columns of fire erupted, forcing Argolaith and Kaelred to keep moving.

Kaelred swore, dodging a fireball that barely missed his shoulder.

"We're supposed to dodge all of this?!"

Malakar's voice remained calm. "A mage will not wait for you. If you cannot counter them, you're already dead."

Argolaith gritted his teeth, analyzing Malakar's attacks.

Then—he moved.

He charged forward, sword in hand, weaving through the flames like a phantom.

Malakar flicked his wrist—a jet of fire surged toward him.

But Argolaith had expected it.

He twisted his body mid-stride, narrowly avoiding the blast. The heat seared past him, but he didn't stop.

His sword lashed out.

Malakar barely blocked in time, raising his arm. The clash of steel against reinforced magic sent sparks flying.

Kaelred, watching from the side, exhaled sharply.

"Alright… I think I see what I need to do."

Kaelred's Counterattack

Kaelred focused.

He couldn't outfight a mage in raw power.

But he could outmaneuver them.

He sprinted to the side, grabbing a handful of small throwing knives from his belt.

Then—he threw them into the flames.

Malakar barely glanced at them—until he realized the knives weren't aimed at him.

They were aimed at the shifting currents of fire.

Kaelred had studied the way the flames moved, calculating where Malakar's magic would surge next.

The knives disrupted the fire's natural flow, forcing the flames to break apart momentarily.

Argolaith took that moment to strike.

His sword carved through the last of the flames, cutting toward Malakar in a devastating arc.

For the first time, Malakar actually looked surprised.

A loud clap of displaced air rang out.

Before Argolaith's sword could connect, Malakar vanished into the shadows.

The flames died instantly, leaving only the smoldering remnants of battle.

Silence followed.

Kaelred panted, wiping sweat from his brow. "Did we… win?"

Malakar's voice came from the shadows behind them. "No. But you learned."

Argolaith turned sharply, spotting Malakar now standing behind them, arms crossed.

"You're not unbeatable," Argolaith smirked.

Malakar chuckled. "No one is. But you two are finally thinking beyond just swinging a blade. That's progress."

Kaelred collapsed onto the ground. "Well, congratulations to us. Now let me die in peace."

Argolaith laughed. "Come on, Kaelred. We survived."

Kaelred groaned. "Barely."

Malakar smirked. "Good. Because tomorrow, we try again."

Kaelred stared at him. "I hate you."

Malakar chuckled. "You'll thank me later."

The training had only begun.

But already—Argolaith and Kaelred were stronger than before.

The Veiled Order wouldn't be ready for what was coming.