Legacy of the Pantheruos

Shit...

Tony's POV

I starting to fuckin hate this shit. Sure we endurance the size of a warship, enough stamina to fight for probably 500 years, and eternal youth after the age of 30.

But goddamn!!!

I'm already annoyed with the first month of this five month training crap.

I should check on Potato girl if she hasn't gotten her hair, ears, and tail shaved by Zimmer for eating again. Oh there's Yemeni.

"Hey Yemeni, you checked on Potato Girl yet?" I asked.

She turned, smirking. "Yeah, she's fine. Zimmer's too busy terrorizing the new recruits today."

I laughed, feeling a bit of the tension lift. "Good. Wouldn't want him to crush her spirit."

Yemeni nodded, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "She's tougher than she looks. Like us."

I glanced around at the recruits, feeling the bond of shared misery. "This will get better, right?"

"Eventually," she replied, confidence in her voice. "Just keep pushing."

We both knew the challenges were far from over, but having someone like Yemeni made it bearable. I was ready to face whatever came next.

I'm not ready as we throw knives at targets.

I managed a bullseye on the first try.

Another recruit missed and got pissed off. "Man! Why we gotta throw knives and shit!? We got elemental powers. We can use our own projectiles."

The guy had a point, but Zimmer looked equally pissed. So I did the best thing.

Shut the hell up.

Zimmer stormed over, eyes blazing. "Listen up! You need more than powers. You need precision, discipline. Understand?"

I nodded silently, focusing on the target. Yemeni shot me a glance, amused. She knew when to stay quiet too.

The lesson was clear: adapt or face the consequences.

3rd POV

It was now the fourth month of recruit training. Some had quit, but most stayed. The grueling regimen had worn down many, but those who remained had become more resilient, more determined. Tony was currently getting a check-up at the base doctor, his mind preoccupied with the day's drills and the constant demands of Sergeant Zimmer.

Dr. Orion, the base medical officer, was a tall, lean man with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He scanned through Tony's medical files with a furrowed brow, then looked up with a hint of surprise.

"Tony, according to these results, you're not just any class. You're a Reach Class."

Tony's eyes widened in shock. "I'm a Reach Class?" he repeated, both surprised and skeptical.

Dr. Orion nodded, his expression serious. "Yes. Your test results show a balance of high physical capabilities and exceptional cognitive functions. It explains why you've been able to keep up so well, even excel in both combat and strategic tasks."

Tony leaned back in his chair, trying to process the information. He had always thought of himself as just another Warrior Class recruit, pushing through the physical demands without giving much thought to his intellectual capabilities. This revelation changed everything.

"How... how is that even possible?" Tony asked, still grappling with the news.

Dr. Orion leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. "Reach Class individuals are rare, Tony. They possess the strengths of both Warrior and Support Classes, making them highly valuable assets. Your heritage and training have likely contributed to this unique blend. But this also means your responsibilities and expectations will be higher."