Warrior Training System

Cassian had been in the Den of Fairies for some time now, moving cautiously through the dense forest. His green-hued sword rested firmly in his grip, the faint glow of its blade blending with the natural hues of the towering trees around him. Each step he took was slow and deliberate, his eyes scanning the environment with sharp focus.

The sheer size of the trees was unnerving—each one so massive that even creatures twice the size of an average human could hide comfortably behind them. The thought made his muscles tense. An attack could come from anywhere, and Cassian knew better than to let his guard down.

His domain hovered faintly around his body, an invisible aura of readiness. Though he couldn't sustain it in a fully consolidated form for long, his control had improved significantly. With just a moment's notice, he could concentrate its power in a flash to react to any threat. It was a delicate balance—keeping his senses heightened without exhausting himself prematurely.

Cassian wouldn't normally have been this tense, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. The instructions from Evans had been frustratingly vague—just "survive." But survive for how long? A couple of hours? A day? Days? There had been no clarity, and the ambiguity was starting to wear on his nerves. It wasn't just the lack of information that frustrated him; it was the entire setup.

Why make warriors and mages choose numbers from different boxes if they were all going to be sent to the same training grounds anyway? It didn't make sense, and the thought made his grip on his sword tighten. Was it a psychological ploy to mess with their heads? Or was there something else he wasn't seeing yet?

Cassian's jaw clenched as he trudged forward, the forest seemingly endless. The towering trees loomed over him, their sheer size and the thick shadows they cast adding to his growing irritation. He wanted to focus on the task at hand, but the lack of direction made it hard to strategize. Surviving without knowing the rules felt like being thrown into a game blindfolded.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

He stopped for a moment, leaning against one of the massive trunks, and took a deep breath to calm himself. "Alright, Cassian, focus," he muttered. "Anger won't help here. Just stay sharp."

But the nagging thoughts wouldn't leave. What was the point of this setup? Was it just a test of endurance, or was there more to it?

With a low growl of frustration, he pushed off the tree and continued walking, his eyes scanning the shadows.

Cassian had been wandering for nearly half an hour now, and the eerie silence was starting to get to him. Not a single sign of life—not even the smallest insect or bird. It was unsettling. But through it all, one thing Sarah had said lingered in his mind: "Don't look down."

He'd resisted the urge out of curiosity, unsure of what she meant, but the thought kept nagging at him. What could be so dangerous about looking down?

Shaking the thought away, he focused on his surroundings, eyes scanning the endless forest ahead. Suddenly, he felt a subtle shift in the air, like something disturbing the stillness. His instincts kicked in, and he turned sharply to his side.

Cassian's eyes narrowed as he took in the grotesque figure before him. The creature's emaciated, sickly frame seemed barely able to hold itself upright, yet its movements were unnervingly quick. Its bony arms gripped a sharp, jagged wooden spear, and on its back fluttered a set of slim, transparent wings that shimmered faintly in the dim light of the forest.

From a distance, Cassian could make out more details: the gaunt, malnourished face that looked almost human if not for its oversized, beastly eyes and the unnervingly wide mouth filled with sharp, uneven teeth. The creature's expression was one of shock, its eyes locking onto him as if it hadn't expected to be noticed so quickly.

Cassian smirked, his green sword glowing faintly as he adjusted his stance. He'd seen enough. With precise, fluid movements, he swung his blade, unleashing a series of slashes that left trails of green energy in their wake. The creature reacted instantly, its wings halting mid-flutter in an attempt to shift its trajectory and dodge.

But it wasn't fast enough. The first slash grazed its chest, and the second struck true, cutting deep into its torso. The creature let out a guttural, inhuman screech as it stumbled back, clutching its wound.

Cassian didn't let up. "You should've stayed hidden," he muttered, stepping forward with his sword ready for another strike.

With third and final, decisive strike to the creature's head, Cassian ended the fight. The grotesque figure crumpled to the forest floor, its body limp and lifeless. Cassian exhaled, lowering his sword, but as his gaze fell on the creature, something caught his attention—his own leg.

Near his feet, faint, shallow cuts marked his skin, already beginning to close thanks to his healing ability. Cassian frowned, puzzled for a moment, until realization dawned on him.

Sarah's cryptic warning echoed in his mind: "Don't look down."

Now it made sense. The creature's shocked expression before its death suddenly aligned with what he'd just discovered. These so-called "fairies," humorously named for their beautiful wings, had a clever trick up their sleeve. They aimed for the feet, delivering shallow cuts that would instinctively make most people look down in confusion or pain. That moment of distraction would give the creature the perfect opportunity to launch a fatal surprise attack.

But Cassian didn't fall for it. He didn't feel pain the same way others did, thanks to his abilities, so he hadn't looked down at all. Instead, he'd caught the creature off guard, turning its own tactic against it.

He smirked as he wiped his sword clean, glancing at the shimmering wings of the dead "fairy." "Clever," he muttered. "But not clever enough."

With a final glance at the creature, Cassian resumed his cautious walk through the dense forest, his grip on his sword tightening. He had no doubt there were more of these creatures lurking, and now he understood why this training ground was deceptively dangerous.