Chapter 8: Chapter 8 (Vol. 2)

West of the Empire, at the beach, an army was being ironed by the most demanding training they've ever experienced.

Groups of soldiers carried huge red logs on their shoulders with synchronized steps. They had to, or over 1 million kilograms would flatten the unfortunate.

In the 2nd group, Haco was lifting and walking for dear life. His cheeks inflated with oxygen, making his tan gain a red hue in the desperation of catching up to the 1st group.

Esdeath was leading with only the Three Beasts' help—if Nyau, who only had a hand on the log counted as help. The little guy was simply too short to be of any help.

This has been going on for months. In the beginning, Haco was really uncooperative working with others, but when he realized the training didn’t allow that, so he changed his mind.

Still, bubbles appeared in the new iron that needed to be hammered out.

With his competitive spirit burning, and more than 15 comrades to care for, Haco sped up his march with a near unnoticeable increase. ‘I can do this!’

Steadily, Haco pulled his bare feet up from the deep white sand and stepped forward.

Behind, things weren’t going as smoothly. While still holding fine onto the log, their feet were being dragged through the sand. It was only a question of time when—

Suddenly, Haco felt the log turn many times heavier. The weight felt unevenly distributed. No matter how much pride he had in his legs, Haco couldn’t stop the log from crashing down on him.

“I can’t hold on!”

“Stop!!”

“Carry on!!”

“Idiot!!!”

Similar to a domino effect, the soldiers abandoned the log and threw themselves to the side, out of fear of getting squashed by a ton.

Two unfortunate people didn’t manage to respond quickly enough. Gravity pulled the log down, breaking someone’s hip bone on the way, before his legs folded in four places—each.

The sound could be mistaken for someone cracking nuts if it wasn’t for the slam followed by the high-pitched screams.

“Aaaaahhhhh!!!”

“Aaaaarrrggg!!!

The man's life would undoubtedly end as he knew it here. Still, he wasn't the only one screaming.

At the forefront of the log, Haco had been pushed to the ground with his shoulder and arm being under it. Although not as unfortunate, his shoulder was dislocated and his arm broken near the elbow.

Soon enough, after another slam, a shadow appeared over Haco. Esdeath and the Three Beasts had come over.

“Daidara, take the other end.” Esdeath stood ready to lift the log and waited for Daidara at the other end. Together they lifted the log to the side. Daidara lifted with gritted teeth while not much strain could be seen from Esdeath, other than the delicate muscles in her hands tensed.

Ignoring the fold-legged man, Esdeath nudged Haco on his arm, making him almost embarrassedly scream again. “You can’t take this bit of training? Find it impossible yet?” she taunted, knowing full well which strings to pull. The weaknesses Haco have—the bubbles in the iron that needed hammering.

**Tch!**

“I have tried worse,” lied Haco and stood. Before blue flames appeared around his arm and ignited over his shoulder, healing it.

“Good, we’re just beginning.” Esdeath walked away with a satisfied feeling.

‘I wonder how much I can push. I can push him...’

---

The training camp went on for 5 months. A great deal had failed and lost their lives as result.

Strength, power, endurance, and mental toughness were put to the ultimate test.

Necessities were supplied for the soldiers such as food and clothes. Honestly, training wasn’t the only struggle for Haco.

He was like a country bumpkin when he was given the task of setting up a tent. Ridicule and racism were the number one thing the soldiers spent their time on when they are given time to rest and get to know each other.

Esdeath let the internal fighting happen and even used it to weed out the weak.

They went through a multitude of exercises that focused on the whole body.

On the last day...

Poles from the tents were used to assemble training bars before they were told to divide into groups of two.

It seemed harmless enough.

Haco stood alone, not having bothered trying to find a partner. Over the days, he’d observed many people’s behaviors—and didn’t like what he found. Other than the people showing ridicule and racism, there were good people here too who didn’t mind helping.

But they were put in his bad book for the smallest reasons, together with the others:

‘He has too kind eyes. Must be hiding his nature.'

‘He has too intense eyes. Must have anger issues.'

‘He’s looking at me like I’m food. Must be a cannibal...’

Finding the smallest thing amid, Haco kept his distance until the last day of the training camp.

Seeing the odd man out, Esdeath realized that the goal of creating a sort of comradeship between the soldiers had succeeded. People suffering together find it easier to befriend each other, and there would always appear a target for resentment.

All that’s left now, are to build rivalries.

Esdeath pointed at Haco, “Daidara, go be his partner,” and ordered before she began explaining the exercise that would put them through misery—not that they haven’t experienced any so far.

“When I say so, a competition will begin between you and your partner. It will be a competition of who can take the most punches before falling while hanging on these rags. The looser will go through drown-proofing.”

The explanation made Haco fidget, clearly looking uncomfortable. His upper body swayed a little and the blood in his veins felt cold.

He quickly asked a question, “A-are kicks allowed?” with a little quiver in his voice. He’d heard talk about drown-proofing—and he would do whatever to avoid it.

With beam, Esdeath denied, “No.” which felt like it was a handicap for him. More, so when a hulking man like Daidara had walked over and stood beside Haco, who’s only just under 170 cm.

“Then begin!” commenced Esdeath without caring if some were handicapped.

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After having lost the argument to, “I’ll not be getting experience points from being punched by you,” it was decided Haco should be the first to be hit.

Haco effortlessly jumped and grabbed the rag’s handles and hung at the perfect height for Daidara.

Roars and cries had already begun overtaking the beach, weirdly as it sounds, drowning the peaceful sounds of waves hitting the shore.

**Baam!**

As he was preparing himself mentally, when the similar feeling of being rammed by a bull in the stomach, shocked his nervous system. The sheer overload of pain signals hazed his mind. As means of temporary solutions, the brain just cut the vision.

Losing strength, Haco’s grip was slowly loosening. From the pinky, his fingers let go one after another.

Until…

His index finger suddenly gained life, and wrapped around the bar again, locking over the thump.

Daidara let Haco cough for only a moment, not intending to give enough to shake the pain off and take enough air in the lungs.

One punch had already left a serious red mark.

**Baam!**

The 2nd hit.

**Baam!**

The 3rd hit.

It went on and on. The hits kept coming...

When the other pairs had reached their limit and reached a looser, they continued to hear the sound of meat being pounced over and over again.

Curious and in disbelief, they gathered around Daidara who was punching Haco like a dangling punching bag, with a furry of punches.

When Daidara finally took a break, they shuddered at the sight. Haco’s stomach looked like someone had smeared his stomach with blueberries.

Just as it looked like Haco was about to fall, they watched blue flames burn away the purple, reversing it back to good as new.

Before they could ask questions, Daidara’s meat-pounding punches repeated.

‘How do I get from where I am, to where I want to be?’

That’s something Haco has been thinking about from the moment misfortune hit him.

A mistake.

Through this training camp, thoughts like:

‘How am I gonna get through this?'

‘I can’t take it.'

‘So many days left.’

‘How am I gonna get through this?’

One day at a time.

That’s how Haco corrected his unstable mindset.

What he wanted to do in the future… Unnecessary.

At this moment, all he wanted to was survive and make it to breakfast—as the best.

**Baam!**

After the 200th hit. The blue flames stopped healing injuries.

Daidara long ago began having fun, after initially having thought it would be easy. Ignoring that Haco couldn’t fight back directly, it still felt like a fight for him.

Haco’s stomach has gone from purple to darker than coal. Internal injuries had long ago been inflicted and it was turning life-threatening. Not having the strength left, Haco let the blow flood out his mouth while struggling, hard, with breathing. It would have felt like his body would fall apart at any moment if his conscious.

The last punch Daidara threw lacked the same power as the previous.

The last straw—Haco’s index fingers, crossed over the trumps—was cut.

And his powerless body fell to the ground.

**Thud!**

A momentary silence took over the beach, letting the waves speak before cheers erupted like an explosion.

No matter if the soldiers didn’t like Haco, the tenacity he display, exalted his character in their minds. Not a single person here hated a good fight, they welcomed it.

Power is worshipped.

Esdeath raised her hand to kill the cheering before Liver stepped forward and announced the losers to crush any cheating.

“… Last, Haco lost because he’s unable to continue. You’ll go through down-proofing tomorrow.”

He could read the soldiers’ thoughts, ‘what a shame…’ and whatnot was properly what they were thinking of Haco’s loss.

Still, nobody refused—

“Can I take that man’s place?” A feeble man’s voice suddenly asked while stepping forward. He looked like a beaten twig. Still, he was not part of the losers—due to the cunningness in his eyes.

Power attracts all sorts of people with different intentions.

Liver waited for a sign from Esdeath before he said, “You can.”

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