Warfire | Broken Time Series: Book Two

Chapter 13

For the third time that week, Nagan stood in the combat arena with a growling stomach. The general had forced him to stand through dinner and breakfast, all because he refused to stop teaching others "unnecessary" material. It had been years since he felt hunger pangs like this, but as long as others were willing to risk learning, he would continue to teach.

What he didn't expect today, however, was seeing General Byteron standing where Professor Fai would usually. Instead, the professor stood off to the side with his arms crossed and glaring daggers at the general. If the general noticed, he didn't acknowledge it. In fact, he looked rather smug today. Perhaps this was an extension of his punishment, Nagan thought.

"Now that the stragglers had wandered in," General Byteron's gaze pierced into those who were tardy, not expecting the general to be here, "Listen carefully. I think by now you'd realize I don't like to repeat myself. The Council and I have deemed your dear Professor Fai's teaching style to be...inadequate. Lacking. Subpar. From now on, you will be learning under me. That means there will be new rules, but I'm sure 'geniuses' like the chosen young Dragonmages of Carvolier already knew that."

At those words, Nagan was fuming. How dare he say that about Professor Fai! The general began to pace up and down the line, staring down each and every one of them.

"First, anything I say is to be done without question." He glared down a kid who raised their hand, and they timidly lowered it while averting their gaze. The general continued. "Second, tardiness will never be tolerated. Punishment will consist of either extra laps around the arena or sharpening each and every blade in this vicinity. Depends on what I decide you deserve. Third, you will not be using training and blunt weapons any longer. To teach you how the bite of a blade truly feels against your skin, and maybe if you're bright enough, you will learn from your careless mistakes even faster. Simple mistakes can, and will, be deadly."

A murmur of alarm rattled the students, as loud as they dared, and Professor Fai's glare intensified. He was not informed of this little change. Yet just as he opened his mouth to object, a familiar bob of blond hair stepped forward to challenge the general.

"You can't expect us to learn with real weapons!" Nagan nearly shouted and swept his arm towards the students. "Some of us here have barely even touched a blade before! Unless you're really that--"

"Silence!" General Byteron bellowed. "I did not grant you permission to speak!"

"You wouldn't have granted it to me either way," Nagan retorted. "So to say what needs to be said, I will do so anyway."

The general paused and considered Nagan carefully. Only a foolish man would defy someone obviously more powerful than one's self, yet this one's eyes sparkled with intelligence. A brave, yet naive, boy. "State your name and category, boy."

Nagan didn't hesitate. "Nagania Elvar; stealth."

"Ah," General Byteron said in distaste. "I've heard of you before. You're that little Time Mage everyone won't shut up about." He scoffed before turning away to continue making his way down the line. "Lower your head, halfspawn. Learn your place amongst the true bloodlines."

An even louder murmur erupted that time, both outraged and shocked, but none was heard louder than Nagan's reply:

"I'd like to see you try and make me."

The room became silent in an instant, and many held their breath. The only sounds to be heard were shuffling feet; one set coming from Professor Fai stepping forward, one set coming from General Byteron as he spun on his heel, eyes glowing with rage, and the rest from the students, who collectively scrambled back from the general's glower.

"Then I suppose I'll be teaching you a lesson earlier than I thought," General Byteron said slowly, refusing to take his eyes off the student who dared glare back. "Pick a sword."

A moment of hesitation passed through the crowd, everyone collectively holding their breaths and waiting to see what Nagan would do. He had an unreadable expression, yet some instinctually stepped back once they saw the eyes of a snake. Focused, calculating, and ready to strike. By now everyone knew what this boy was capable of, having either seen him fight or heard the tales.

What they didn't know, however, was if it was enough against a clear war veteran.

Before anyone had finished their thoughts, Nagan turned on his heel to the sword rack. A hand quickly caught hold of his arm, stopping him.

"Nagan, this isn't safe!" Az whispered urgently. "You don't know what he can do, and he's a general! Please, just apologize and—"

"And what?" Nagan hissed back, tugging his arm against his chest trying to get Az to let go. "The bridges have been burned, and the only way forward is to get this over with. I trust in my abilities, and you of all people should trust me as well."

Az huffed in exasperation and said while shaking Nagan's arm, "Don't be stupid! It's not you I don't trust, it's the general!"

"What's the holdup, boys?" General Byteron's voice floated above the argument with obvious snark.

Seizing his opportunity, Nagan yanked his arm out of Az's hold and quickly stepped past his reach. He turned to the sword rack and ignored Az calling his name as a last desperate attempt of reasoning with him. The general wielded a broadsword, Nagan remembered, so it was obvious what he should choose.

It was a common sword to wield — the first he was taught to wield, in fact — so he had no qualms with the weapon itself. Yet when he held it in his hand, as the sharp blade gleamed in the light, a wave of unease washed over him. This would be the first time he used a real sword against a real opponent. On top of that, an opponent he knew nothing about; how he fought, his strengths, or his weaknesses.

However, there was one crucial fact the general overlooked. As far as Carvolier was concerned, these soldiers, fresh off the battlefield, entered into their territory. A terrain they knew nothing about. If General Byteron and his crew thought they could waltz in and take control, they were sorely mistaken. Carvolier would play their little games for now, but the moment they decided to hurt their own, the wrath of a deeply connected student body would be unleashed. They were the top of their generation; the chosen elite. The ones who've had a taste of what it's like to fight tooth and nail.

They were not to be trifled with.

Nagan may have asked Az to trust in him, but in turn, he knew he had to trust the rest of them, too. He had no plans on becoming a martyr, after all. The moment he stepped into the ring, surrounded by runes meant to suppress magic, Nagan would be at the general's mercy, but what was there to stop the ones outside?

Sword in hand, Nagan strode to the red runic ring where the general stood. His head held high, a sword twirling lithely, and a smirk playing at his lips.

Let's play this game you've chosen.

•_______________________•

Somebody stop this boy, he has too much "fight me" energy XD idek how that happened tbh lol