Noah’s excitement was short-lived. ‘Training’ as Jeline called it was a hell far surpassing his own boot camp grind sessions. She had him start the day following their conversation, and his schedule was booked in back-to-back sessions of forced advancement. To her, the biggest hurdle was the sheer quantity of essence needed to reach C Grade, totaling one million. She had been horrified to learn that he had yet to reach D Grade and demanded that he advance as soon as he had the required essence. To rectify this she repeatedly locked him in her version of cage matches in a public arena. Anyone that she was dissatisfied with or who refused the oath was thrown into the arena to serve as his XP source. That was horrible enough to Noah, but she wasn’t satisfied with executions, no she told them that if they beat him they could go free. His first match went poorly, the beast facing him was some kind of wolf-bear hybrid and had severed an artery in his leg within the first moments of battle. From there it was a desperate struggle, which ended with him soaked through in blood and seeing everything in an off-green. Worse yet, it only awarded him 10,000 XP. Apparently, it was only the Grade of the beast that upped their value.
Her healer would tend to him, patching him up with practiced ease, and then he would be sent into his next fight. Rinse and repeat. He was strictly forbidden from leveling and was required to convert his XP to essence immediately. Only after three battles did he get a break from the death matches, instead being trained to advance his Gate. He enjoyed this bit despite the pressure. His moment of inspiration in the moments before the rabbit attack had involved an awareness of the world. This coupled with Jeline’s personal instruction made him feel momentum in his meditation for the first time in many months. Outside of these times he was also being trained in various weapons, because apparently you never knew what you may have at your disposal. Recter was allowed to join for these sessions, acting as his primary opponent. Noah had attempted to speak with him, but he was closed-lipped and Noah suspected that he had been forbidden from such conversations. At night he slept like a rock, barely having enough energy to wash before falling into his bed.
On the morning of the third day of his new regime, he woke with a smile. His body was sore and his mind strained, and yet he felt a sense of peace. The new routine was doing wonders for mental health, not to mention the complete lack of responsibilities. Sure, he was technically still a tribe leader and was on the hook to save all of humanity, but right now he was locked in. All he had was the task in front of him and it was glorious. He hopped out of bed, and plunged into the cool pool, not bothering to ask Dalia to heat it for him. It was well before dawn and he had meditation to do. He could feel the breakthrough coming, and the itch for advancement drove him forward. When Dalia arrived a couple hours later with breakfast, she found him well and truly entranced within his own mind. It took prodding him and yelling his name before she finally got through. He thanked her, scarfed his meal, and headed to the training yard. Recter was already waiting, diligent as ever, and tossed him a spear, the weapon of the day. They sparred without fear, eventually landing deep wounds and requiring intervention from the healer. He attempted to study Recter, to look for some way to communicate but it wasn’t forthcoming.
Eventually, it was time for his daily dose of trauma and he jumped into the arena, his smile only slightly diminishing. The opponents of the day were similar in strength to the previous, which was to say deadly and more than able to kill him. He was maimed, healed, down a limb, healed again, and finally just low on blood. His afternoon training went smoothly, this time led by one of the knight captains, a stag by the name of Grifney. He seemed to have something against Noah and let him know over and over again. The healer was on standby though, and never allowed the injuries to threaten his life. Finally, the time for meditation came and he sat across from the human form of Jeline for his favorite activity of the day. She shared again how the third gate was all about knowing the world around you and its place in relation to you and the rest of the world. He realized that it was very similar to the concept of domain, and wondered at the implications. There was no breakthrough for him that day, but he felt himself move ever closer.
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The days continued in that pattern and Noah found himself losing track of time. He only watched as his essence climbed higher each day. 30,000 each day. It had only been a matter of days before he reached D Grade, a feat that would have felt impressive if not for the rather derogatory remarks that Jeline used when speaking of it. Sure, he could have advanced earlier, but he didn’t understand the degree to which she looked down upon it. The advancement had come with the same benefits as before, adding to his body’s durability and strength across the board. The increases gave him a surge of confidence, that was until Jeline threw a more powerful beast at him. He was brought within an inch of death and the match had to be interrupted. It took the healer significantly longer that day. He was rattled after that, and his mediation slowed. After several weeks had passed he was finally feeling himself again and Jeline showed up in his room instead of Dalia.
“Jeline! I wasn’t expecting you.” Noah said, hurriedly pulling his close on. For whatever reason her presence still put him off balance, and he felt embarrassed to be seen in his state. She smiled amused, though she lacked her typical mirth.
“Noah, I’ve come to talk with you. Why don’t we sit.” She said, motioning to the couch. He followed her instructions and joined her on the loveseat, acutely aware of her proximity.
“What is it?” He asked, having to turn his head at an awkward angle to meet her eyes.
“You are running out of time.” She said, her voice serious. His brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“The border skirmishes are getting worse, I believe we only have a matter of months before an all-out attack. At the pace you’re going, you won’t survive the attack nor will you be able to complete my task.” She explained grimly. Noah didn’t know what to say.
“I’m trying—” She cut him off.
“You haven't advanced your Gate or your Grade, and we both know D Grade really doesn’t count. Your progress has been minimal at best. From here on you will only face higher-tiered beasts. It would be better for you to die here than to get both our hopes up later. As for your gate, if you have not advanced by the end of the month then you will face Recter in the arena.” Her words cut through him and she left the room before he had a chance to respond. His mind whirled and he clung to the arm of the couch as his heart threatened to leap from his chest. Whatever pressure he had felt before was nothing compared to his new burden. Am I going to die today? He forced himself to take a deep breath. No. He got up and washed his face, staring at his reflection. I am not dying today. I can’t die today. He took his time getting ready, opting to shave and eat his meal slowly. He couldn’t let the fear taint his judgment, he would need to be sharp if he wanted to survive.
He used his sparring session as his warm-up, treating every blow as fatal and not allowing a single hit to land. Recter seemed to be aware of his change and provided the first hint of emotion that Noah had seen since they started weeks prior. Too soon his session ended and he was escorted to the arena where a larger crowd than usual had assembled. For the first time he was allowed to select his weapon, and without hesitation, he chose the warhammer–his faithful companion through many near-death encounters. He stepped into the ring and closed his eyes. He forced his senses to stretch out over the enclosed space, willing a greater awareness into being. First, he heard the shuffling feet of the audience; he tuned them out. Then the whistle of the wind through the banner hanging overhead; silence. The chatter, the applause, the shouting, one after another they became dim to his awareness, and in their place, a sphere of understanding formed around him, stretching only as far as the enclosure’s walls. It was like the moment after he received his domain. An alarming amount of information flooded his mind but somehow all worked together to form a cohesive image. He knew the arena, every spec of sand, every shift in air current, every vibration from shuffling feet. He froze. The form of a large beast slammed into the sand, and a torrent of sensations assaulted his mind. It’s here.
