“Edward!” Colin shouted. He had seen my footing slip a split second before I felt it.

  My foot shot forward, and I instinctively flung my other leg back to steady myself, stretching wide to keep from falling. For a moment I was nearly in a full lunge, one leg far ahead, the other braced behind, my center of balance twisted and exposed. A sharp strain pulled along my hip and lower back as I fought to stay upright.

  The battlefield had been noisy for so long that my thoughts kept slipping. My ears rang from the constant clash of metal and the roars of beasts. Heat from bodies pressed close together and the stench of blood made it harder to focus. We had been fighting and holding formation for the last thirty minutes.

  All of it chipped away at my concentration, and that was why I failed to notice the slick patch under my front foot.

  The ground beneath me was a thick smear of blood and torn intestine from the Dreadhorn we had killed earlier. It clung to my boot like oil, making me lose my balance and opening a gap in the front wall of the formation wide enough for another Dreadhorn to push through.

  The beast saw it instantly.

  It charged, hooves pounding against the churned earth, head lowered to gore straight through me. Dreadhorn were slower than Hagremor, but heavier and far more aggressive. If it broke the line, the recruits behind us would be trampled.

  My breath caught. My pulse spiked. Instinct took control.

  Because of my stretched stance, I was already low to the ground. My right arm was extended, the spear angled down, giving me an unexpected opening under the beast’s jaw. As it lowered its horns to impale me, I tightened my grip, planted my back leg for leverage, and thrust upward with everything I had.

  The spear pierced its lower jaw, tore through its skull, and burst out the top.

  The Dreadhorn collapsed in a heavy heap.

  I pulled my legs back underneath me, regained my footing, and closed the formation gap before anything else could slip through.

  We pushed forward together, the line tightening. Only three or four of them remained from the original herd of fifteen. They charged again. Dreadhorn were massive buffalo-like creatures, towering above warhorses, their thick hide shrugging off glancing blows. Their horns were long, curved, and sharp enough to rip through armor. Their dark fur was coarse and matted with dried mud, making them look like walking boulders. I was surprised I had been able to pierce through its skull.

  We brought them down one by one, shield formations holding firm. None of the recruits broke. Aside from my slip, nothing else went wrong.

  When the last beast fell, the Sergeant exhaled sharply.

  “Edward,” he said, stepping toward me, “I did not expect this from you. You almost lost your life, and you put the back line in danger. You’re off patrol duty for now. You have been training hard, but I cannot allow another mistake like that. These are routine patrols, and losing anyone here would reflect badly on all of us. Get rest tonight. Tomorrow, I want you at full strength.”

  I nodded. There was nothing to argue.

  As I started walking back, Walter gave my shoulder a single pat.

  "Get some sleep, kid."

  The walk from the outer trench to the fort felt like a walk of shame. I was surprised the Sergeant had not yelled or cursed. Maybe he knew I had been pushing myself too hard and decided to take pity on me. Three days of infirmary duty during the day, night patrols, and barely six or seven hours of sleep in the last four days. Fatigue had finally caught up to me. I lost focus at the worst possible time.

  As I walked with my head lowered, a sharp pain interrupted my thoughts. At first I thought it was just fatigue, but a second step sent another jolt through the muscles along the inside of my forearm, running from my wrist to my elbow.

  The adrenaline was fading now, and the sensation grew clearer. While walking, I slowly guided mana through my arm to check what was causing the pain. I found a small tear in the muscle, so I applied [Vital Restoration] to the area to ease it. I did not know exactly when it happened, but if I had to guess, it was during the thrust that let me pierce the Dreadhorn’s skull. I must have pushed too much mana into the tissue while reinforcing my thrust, forcing it past its limit. At least, that was my theory.

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  I would have to confirm it with Walter.

  The memory of that thrust sent a cold feeling down my spine. I had come very close to death or serious injury. The Dreadhorn’s horn had been less than a foot from my chest. Even if my armor had held, the impact would have left me badly hurt. And this had happened against a low-threat beast. No matter how bulky a Dreadhorn looked, it was still only a high Tier 1.

  Thinking about it scared me.

  Maybe I had pushed myself too hard. Maybe I should have asked the Sergeant for a break instead of forcing myself through training, infirmary duty, and patrols. I had overestimated myself, and it nearly cost me my life.

  After reaching the fort, I walked straight into the Longhall. Even with all those thoughts swirling in my head, sleep took me the moment I lay down.

  I did not wake until morning.

  When I finally opened my eyes, I shot up into a sitting position, breath caught in my throat. My back was drenched in sweat. The image of a horn piercing my chest still hung in my mind.

  I looked around the Longhall, forcing myself to breathe slowly. My heart was pounding, but it took a few moments before I convinced myself it had only been a nightmare.

  It was not my first nightmare, but it was the first time I died in one. Until now I mostly dreamed of running from Venelion or Steelbeak, or sometimes digging trenches again and again.

  Once I got my bearings, I slowly got to my feet. The Longhall was empty; most of the squad had already left. My body still felt heavy, but at least my head was clear. After washing up, the first thing I did was look for the new recruits. Colin and Jack were already with them.

  I stepped forward.

  “Everyone… I want to apologize for yesterday,” I said. “I put your lives in danger. It will not happen again.”

  They shifted nervously, glancing at one another. I frowned. Did Sergeant scold them after I left?

  One of them stepped forward. “Sir… it was nothing. From our view, your wall held. Even when you slipped, you protected us.”

  Before I could reply, Colin waved his hand.

  “Alright, recruits. Head to the training yard. We will join you for morning drills.”

  As they left, I turned to Jack and Colin.

  “Sorry to both of you as well.”

  Colin shrugged. “It happens to everyone.”

  “Yeah, sir. Nothing happened,” Jack added, mimicking the recruit’s tone with a grin.

  I frowned. “Why are they calling me ‘sir’ anyway? And why did they seem nervous? Did something happen?”

  Jack raised a brow. “What do you think? You train harder than all of us. You know more than most soldiers in the fort. Some of them have never even seen a rune, much less watched someone draw one. Then you show up first thing in the morning to apologize to them. What do you think that looks like?”

  Colin nodded. “They look up to you. A few even asked if I could train them harder after watching you run drills.”

  I blinked. “Oh.”

  Colin snorted. “Yeah. Oh.”

  I scratched the back of my head. “Guess it’s good they’re training hard.”

  “Hey, do you know where Walter is?” I asked. My arm still wasn’t fully healed, just a faint ache, probably enough to get through morning drills, but I wanted to confirm my theory before doing something stupid again.

  “He should be at the training yard,” Colin replied.

  “Thanks. I’ll check. Got a couple questions for him. You two coming?”

  They nodded since we all had to report for morning drills anyway.

  At the entrance of the yard, I spotted Walter. Colin and Jack headed inside while I made my way toward him.

  “Walter, been looking for you. Got a minute?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “So, yesterday on the walk back I started feeling pain in my arm. When I checked it with mana, it looked like a small muscle tear. Could a skill like [Mana Reinforcement] cause that? I can’t think of anything else that fits. You’ve used that skill longer than me, so I figured I should ask. I’ll be fine by the end of the day, but I want to know if this is something I need to watch out for.”

  He frowned. “Why do you think it’s [Mana Reinforcement]?”

  “Well, when I thrust at that Dreadhorn, in the moment I might’ve pushed more mana into it than we normally do in drills. My guess is that the extra mana overloaded the muscle and tore it.”

  “That actually makes sense,” Walter said. “I’ve never seen it happen, but you’ve got more mana than most soldiers I’ve met. I’d avoid using your [Mana Reinforcement] skill until you’re fully healed. You know Lieutenant Cicero from the infirmary, right? Confirm your theory with him after morning drill. He’s been at the fort a long time. You can trust him.”

  “Oh yeah, that was the plan if you didn’t have an answer.” I let out a small, dry laugh. “I’m just a little afraid of asking him questions. He helped me a lot during my training sessions at the infirmary, but the man still scares me.”

  “Yeah, he tends to have that effect,” Walter said as we headed toward the training yard for morning drills.

  After drills were done, I had a couple of hours free. I grabbed some jerky, ate while walking, and made my way to the infirmary to see if I could find Lieutenant Cicero. Inside, I saw him making his rounds as usual. I asked if he had a moment in private since it was a skill concern.

  Thankfully, after giving me a short lecture on the importance of proper skill training and mana control, he confirmed my theory. The worry about my injury finally settled, and I could focus on my personal training again.

  I dedicated the time to training my last remaining class skill that still needed to evolve to uncommon tier: [Soldier’s March (C)].

  I picked an isolated corner so I would not interfere with anyone. Just like before, I set up a two hundred meter obstacle path with drums and tables. While running, yesterday’s slip came to mind. I wondered if I could modify the course to simulate slippery terrain. After thinking it through, I turned the landing zones into mud pits and placed the last few drums sideways to force more unstable footing.

  I started slowly, building rhythm. After thirty minutes, I increased my speed. I slipped two or three times, but eventually my balance adjusted. When I felt ready, I activated [Soldier’s March] and ran the course again. After another thirty minutes of laps, I ended the session. [Soldier’s March] still hadn't evolved, but that just meant tomorrow I would run it again.