Blade of Fire

Part 3

The crunch of boots was the only sound in the silence. Everyone was waiting for noise yet to come, which started up suddenly, with a loud intensity that thudded the ground at Techno's feet.

The national anthem blared out before each training session, not words but the deep bass of the Heart of the Nether mixing with the crunch of the Basalt region, the grinding of bones, and the heavy rhythmic beat of the God that was felt in every Piglin's heart, every day.

The music was dubbed 'Pigstep' by the Piglin community, as the march of the Piglin Brutes accompanied it, and it was stored in chests in the Bastion to make sure that every Piglin knew the tune and beat of the anthem.

"Attention warriors!" The commander bellowed

"Grab an axe and crossbow and we will start!"

Techno had never fired a crossbow, but he was handy with an axe, and it felt comfortable in his strong hand. 

Training areas were separated for pairs to fight, and Techno walked over to one with his friend Milnar.

He tightened his grip on his axe, it's golden head gleaming

"May the best win"

Milnar attacked first, striking down hard above his head, but Techno had been anticipating that as he had known his friend for years. Techno quickly side-stepped, dodging the attack and slightly deflecting it with a flick of his wrist.

Shifting his position he swung up at Milnar, who blocked it. But Techno was fast and struck again. Side stepping, counter ajusting, ducking, dodging. 

All Techno could see was Milnar. He watched his every move.  Striking, swinging, stepping, sliding. Sometimes he would defend but usually attack, moving in and out like a choreographed dance. He caught the head of Milnar's axe and in one deft swoop lifted it up into the air, out of his reach and with a deaftening clang, it embedded itself in the rock, echoing over the arena.

All heads turned, taking in a defeated Milnar and Techno standing in a rooted stance, his axe held out, ready to swing.

The commander walked over.

"Good work Techno" he regarded him with little interest.

"What you are doing here is only child's play when it comes to war. This faction of the Bastion is part of the elites. You are learning the Art of War, so you need to be smart, quick witted and observant.  Mistakes will get you killed. Weakness will get you killed. Your flaws will get you killed."

All the Brutes watched in silence, Milnar rubbing his snout from where the axe handle had hit him.

"You live in the Nether." The commander spoke "And in this world there is only one universal language: violence."