They had no idea. The pain had swallowed all sense of time. Day or night, hour or minute, it had all bled together into an endless torment.
Taria’s voice trembled. "And the shadows? They... they stabbed us for seven days?"
Thalso shrugged. "Of course. What kind of training would it be if shadow fighters didn’t stab you?"
They recoiled at the casual way he said it. Seven full days. Of piercing agony. Of being turned into meat, remade by fire and shadow and steel.
"That’s insane," Rauk muttered. "We should be dead. Or mad. That pain... it wasn’t something a person should survive."
He touched the side of his neck where one of the daggers had gone in. The memory came in flashes, ice, fire, and the crushing weight of wanting to end it all.
"Shadow blades," Thalso said, as if that alone explained it.
"What?" Rauk blinked. "Shadow blades?"
"Oh, right." Thalso scratched his neck. "You know nothing."
He looked at the three of them, then gave a slight nod.
"I’ll explain. Shadow blades are made of poison."
Kaedros, Taria, and Rauk sucked in a breath.
Poison? That... made sense. Or at least it explained the horrible sensations, the changing of their bodies.
But then how were they still alive?
Thalso, seemingly reading their thoughts, continued. "And medicine. Shadow blades are a combination. Ninety percent poison, ten percent healing medicine. The poison breaks your body down. The medicine keeps you alive just enough to survive it."
What could one say to someone who had injected them with both death and life for seven straight days?
"It’s an ancient training method," Thalso went on. "It condenses years of purification into days. Painful? Absolutely. But the rewards are enormous."
He gestured toward Kaedros. "For one, you’re now highly resistant to pain. And more importantly, immune to most known poisons."
Kaedros’ brows furrowed. That was... huge. He’d seen seasoned warriors fall from a scratch of venom. Now? He might just survive what would’ve killed him yesterday.
"Your bones have been reconstructed," Thalso continued. "Stronger. Your muscles are firmer, more flexible. Your reflexes will be smoother, your agility sharper. And your eyes... faster at syncing with your brain. You’ll feel that soon."
Kaedros glanced down at his hands. His body really did feel... right. Like it had always been slightly off and now finally settled into place.
"This is the foundation," Thalso said. "Now comes the real work. Combat training. And spellwork. You’ll begin your journey as Battlemages."
Kaedros frowned. "Battlemage?"
He spoke again, curious. "Is that your path too?"
Thalso tilted his head. "My path?"
"You know, like Battlemage. What’s your path?"
"Oh," Thalso nodded. Then, unexpectedly, he bowed. His armor moved with a surprising softness, bending like it was cloth. It shocked them.
"I am a warrior," he said. "On the Path of the Grey One."
Grey One? None of this was in the teachings or structures they had ever known. Isn’t path things like, Warriors, Assassins, Archer, Mage and such?
Kaedros opened his mouth to ask more, but Thalso cut him off.
"Forget that for now. You are not on a Path. You’re mages, Battlemages. That’s your focus."
Then he added, "The Battlemage is the union of warrior and mage, without one disturbing the other. You’ll learn to blend both. We don’t have a Battlemage in this castle..."
Nyra cleared her throat pointedly.
Thalso shot her a look. "We have one. But he’s sleeping."
Nyra grinned. "Like I said before, we will be your instructors, until we believe you’re ready to challenge the Trial Doors."
"Now you’ll fight for food, and your training as warriors will begin," Thalso said.
"Wait... will we be attacked by shadows every night?" Taria asked. Even with the perks they’d gained, she wasn’t sure she could handle pain like that again. Or worse, another blackout that lasted days.
"Of course not," Thalso assured. "That was a one-time thing. No shadows will attack you with poison again."
Kaedros narrowed his eyes slightly. With poison, he’d said. Not no shadows will attack. That choice of words... it didn’t sit well with him.
"Chef," Thalso called, "over to you."
Chef smiled and raised her hand. Power sparked from her fingers as the ground beneath them shook. The earth cracked open, and three forms rose from freshly torn soil.
They were earth golems, the size of adult men, crafted from compressed dark earth. Their smooth, expressionless faces made them even more unsettling. Each carried weapons formed of the same hardened material.
"These golems are made from my own power," Chef said. "They fight like skilled warriors. Don’t underestimate them."
Thalso gestured, and a portal opened above them. Three weapons dropped from its glowing mouth and hit the ground with heavy thuds.
He stepped back beside Virell.
Now only Kaedros, Taria, and Rauk remained in the open clearing, facing the golems.
"How should they fight?" Chef asked.
"One at a time. I want to test their ability in one-on-one combat," Thalso answered.
Chef nodded, and with a flick of her fingers, two of the golems retreated, leaving only one.
"I’ll go first," Rauk said, stepping forward. He wanted to feel what his body could do now. Wanted to test these changes for himself.
He picked up the weapons on the ground. After handing the spear and short sword to his companions, he gripped the long sword in both hands. But it felt... wrong. Awkward.
So he shifted the grip to one hand.
He smiled faintly as he felt the familiar weight settle easily into his palm. "Much better."
Seven days ago, he wouldn’t have dared lift this blade with one hand. Now? It felt light. Natural.
He turned toward the golem. His pale blue eyes were calm, almost lazy, but they hid the sharpness of focus behind them. Something about going through real, unbearable pain stripped fear away. He’d felt pain, true pain, and come out alive.
He heard Thalso say the word: "Fight."
The golem moved instantly, leaping forward with unnatural speed and swinging its massive axe in a wide arc.
Rauk was already moving.
His own blade met the swing mid-air with a resounding clang that pushed the golem back. He blinked, surprised by his strength.
Thalso had said the golems were powerful but not .
Without pause, Rauk followed with another heavy slash. The golem caught it with the flat of its axe but that wasn’t what Rauk was aiming for. His foot lashed out in a brutal kick that sent the golem flying sideways.
To its credit, the golem rolled mid-air, landed, and blocked his next strike.
Then the real fight began.
They traded blows, slashes, dodges, quick pivots but Rauk’s strength was clearly greater. Every swing of his sword sent the golem staggering backward, struggling to regain footing.
Eventually, Rauk took a risk.
He stepped in, caught the axe just below its blade, and with one clean, precise motion, decapitated the golem.
Kaedros had watched the fight with growing astonishment. What...? Rauk was that strong?
He glanced at the air around them. Was this the effect of the rich mana they’d been breathing?
No. It had to be the shadow blades. That was the only explanation.
Kaedros smiled faintly. Seven days of torment might actually have been worth it.
Taria looked at Rauk with a mix of awe and envy. His strength was absurd. That sword of his was almost long enough to be a spear, and he wielded it like a toy.
Did she have that power too?