The Reminiscence of a Psychopath

Throughout the next week of training, things went very similarly to the first day, including basic strength and stamina training and weapon practices.

Each person switched around with each weapon to see which fit him the most. I found that the spear was quite fun, but it was so awkward and long that I found it quite cumbersome.

The bow was simple enough, but understanding and doing were different. There was also the con that I could not have infinite arrows, what was I to do when I had no more arrows? Plus, it took far too long for me to aim and shoot properly to even hit anything within thirty seconds.

The sword I first used was a delight to hold and slash away at the scarecrow. Yet, none of these I felt to be what I truly loved. Everything changed the day we practiced hand-to-hand combat.

It was perfect, beautiful, and the most incredible thing I have ever done. I felt the strength of my own limbs as they could cut through the air swiftly but with no excess strength lost.

Each punch made me feel powerful and unbeatable. I had punched before, but they were sloppy, clumsy attempts at the correct form. Learning how to properly throw a punch made a lot more of a difference than I thought.

I transformed from an unstable and wobbling form to a solid and practiced one. My heart pumped with the thrill of it all. I wondered if this was the man's exhilaration when he beat me. I felt myself grow stronger and checked the system interface.

[New weapon found +1 level]

[Host: Human]

[Level: 8]

[Skills: Basic body hardening magic, Basic wind magic]

My new level was eight, and I felt the growth exponentially. A few days after I found the long-lost piece of myself, I was walking back to my room with the jealous eyes of other soldiers piercing my back.

But I was in a hurry to get back to my room with all the new training, I had scarcely enough time to spend time with Jam. I thought she would be angry and had brought a bit of biscuit for her from my rations.

Then I sensed something amiss. Well, more like a scent of something in the air that was misplaced. I narrowed my eyes and noticed that the door to my room was slightly ajar.

Something was up. But I did not know what to do in this situation. I was at a loss, so I just banged open the door and readied my fist to hit anything in sight.

However, what met my eyes was not a person but a ransack of a room. My clothes were strewn everywhere, the bedding in my straw mattress was ripped apart, the cabinet was knocked over, and a putrid scent hung in the air. Someone had come in, tore up my place, and urinated on anything in sight.

"How unfortunate," I sighed and started to pick my things up. Distracted by the mess I had failed to make sure every inch of the room was clear.

My ears picked up the creak of a board as a black figure masked in shadows lunged from under the wrecked bed, wooden practice sword in hand. I barely turned my head an inch when the wooden blade met my skull and, with a terrible crack, sent my consciousness into oblivion.

[New quest: Escape +1 level]

Sounds filtered into my foggy brain, light, and shadow, and smells of sweat, dirt, and blood hit my senses, making me feel nauseous. I cracked open my eyes to see the annoying boy who had kicked me on the first day standing over me.

Two bulky-looking guys held my arms, and at least five others surrounded me. I really need to think more, I groaned to myself.

How could I get myself into this situation? I had a lot of training to do."Hey! Look at me." The grating voice of the boy yelled, he had two big men standing behind him. "Nobles think they're so much better than everyone else, look at the special treatment they get! Even a half-breed like you gets a luxurious room all to himself."

The others present nodded, the atmosphere thickening with malcontent and hatred. I tried to pull my arms from their grips, but the vice-like hold they had on me was too much. Then a fist hit my stomach, knocking all the wind from my lungs.

Another punch to my face, and I felt blood spilling down my nose. Pain twisted in my body, and hatred filled my head. I struggled with all my might, but the rain of blows fell unbroken. Voices mingled in and out of my consciousness.

Then I heard, "Now bring that." I forced my line of sight up, and to my horror, the boy appeared with a board stuck full of nails.

Gasping for breath and struggling against the blackness that would consume me, I felt a sense of hopelessness settle across my shoulders. Was I just born for situations like these?

A ferocious "CAW!" sounded out from the black night sky. A black blur of feathers and noise hurtled into one of the guys holding me.

He screamed and fell down with a heavy thud. Gripping his head tightly in both hands. The group, disgruntled by the scene, screamed "MONSTER" and started to hit everything they could in the dark. In the chaos, I yanked my left arm free and, bending low, grabbed a rock.

I was no seven-man party, so I tried to slip away. Before I could flee into the forest, a skinny hand grabbed me. It was the annoying boy, he shouted to the others.

"He's getting away! Catch him!" but the rest were so scared of the "monster" that they dismissed my presence. Not waiting around to be captured again, I turned and smashed the rock into his face.

He fell back on his bottom and held his now broken nose. Tears filled his pathetic eyes, and I ran into the warm darkness of the woods. Faster and faster, farther and farther, I ran the roots and loose rocks, tripping me and dragging me down.

Leaves scratched at my face, and every noise made me wary. Finally, I ran until I heard no more screaming and the sound of human voices. I swung up into an oak tree and climbed until I reached the highest of branches that could bear my weight.

"You should thank me," a beak covered in blood spoke from the tree branch to my left. Jam was there, a hero in the flesh, proudly displaying her trophy, the eyeball of the man she attacked. After being satisfied with the attention, she tilted her head back and swallowed the torn bits in one go.

"Thank you," I whispered. My heart filled with love for this tiny creature. This was the first time, the only time, that someone had intentionally tried to save me. I reached out my hand and patted her soft, blood-stained feathers. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Die," Jam cackled.

"However, you won't because my greatness will not allow it!" My eyes softened, and the light of a smile flashed through them. "I'll get stronger so I can protect your greatness."

[Quest complete: +1 level]

I found a nice place where a couple of big branches interlocked, and I lay in the most comfortable spot I could find and with Jam on night watch, fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, sunlight crept through the drowsy sky and woke me with its gentle beams. I jumped from my perch and ran through the forest all the way back to the barracks.

The smell of fresh morning air filled my nostrils, and the cool breeze wafted sweetly through the trees. The morning training was commencing as I ran into formation with the rest of the trainees. The state of my room was something to worry about that night.

Today, we were to be put into squads. If I had my face had been bashed in yesterday, there was no way I would have been able to be placed with a proper squad. Glad to be free from the turmoil of last night with only black and blue bruises twisting like vines all across my body, I thanked Jam again in my head.

My unit consisted of four people: me, the Viking man Jack, and the sandy boy Peter, who I run with every morning. The last person was the annoying boy, Nathan. I felt my body go rigid when I met his eyes. Anger coursed through my veins, wanting me to bash his face in until even his mother couldn't recognize him.

He, in turn, glanced at his feet; having no one to back him up, I could see how helpless he was alone. That day, we learned how to work together. It seems we were all put together for a reason: Jack was a tank, Peter the long-ranged archer, me the damage dealer, and Nathan. The healer, scout, or bait… Working together did wonders for human bonding.

After practicing together, I felt a sense of comradery with the other two, not Nathan. I still needed to beat him up later. When training was finished, I found myself conversing with the instructor.

It was a surprise because I was generally left alone; I had heard the nobles whispering about my status as an illegitimate child, and the common people were probably avoiding me because of my noble status. I would eat alone, train alone, and never talk to anyone.

The instructor, whose name was Vlad, seemed a tad uncomfortable and said in a gruff voice, "Stay tomorrow after training." With wide eyes, I nodded and stared at his figure, walking quickly away, a bit lopsided because of the peg leg.

After the basic training, I waited in a corner, wondering what I would be training in next. A cough sounded behind me, and I swiveled my neck around.

A punch landed in my stomach. It was spot on the bruise that had been left to me by last night, and I almost collapsed. Vlad surprised at my weakness, commanded me to rise and continue. "You won't last a second in battle if that strike winds you.

Then he swung his left hand at me, from which I leaped back. I tried to come back with a punch of my own, but I was not used to calculating the distance, and my arm was too short to even reach his chest. It swung wildly, hitting the air and throwing me off balance.

"You need to think strategically, not just try to hit so crazy, and keep your guard up," The instructor said as he sent a lot more punches my way. Go for the vital parts; anywhere on the skull is good: the stomach, knee, throat, and groin. This training is for the strike to end all strikes."

I tried to register this new information between parries and punches. I learned the names of each of the six main moves. The jab, straight, left hook, right hook, left uppercut, and right uppercut.

"Train in these six basic movement patterns for a month, and maybe you'll be able to master them." However, I got a notification after training only for a few hours on the basic punches.

[Learn basic boxing yes/no]

I really liked this system. Pressing yes, I threw a left hook and felt the precision, speed, and angle were like a professional's. My eyes gleamed excitedly, and I couldn't wait for tomorrow's training. And just like that, after training, I had more training sparring with the instructor every night until my lungs burned and threatened to stop cooperating, and my legs couldn't hold my weight anymore.

I learned all sorts of punches, the Superman, the overhand, and some kicks as well. A few days after my new training began, I was again approached by a living person while eating in the canteen. I was tired from last night's sparring and could barely lift my spoon to my lips.

Then, all of a sudden, "BANG!" a bread bowl thudded onto the place in front of me. All of a sudden, I was transported back to the house with that man and woman.

My arms swung up to cover my face, and with a sudden force, my three-legged stool toppled backward, and I landed hard on my back. I scrambled to get my mind in order, my head filled with images of the past.

A voice filled with guilt and apologies crossed into my ears, "I am sorry, lad, I didn't mean to startle you. I only wanted to wake you up a bit." I looked up to see the big Jack, the Viking-like man who was now part of my team, holding out a calloused hand to me and helping me to my chair.

Then I noticed the eyes that were on me. The whole canteen had stopped to watch the scene and were whispering with a look in their eyes I couldn't place. "Sorry again," Jack said and offered me his bread.

"It's just that I had been wanting to get to know you cause you to remind me of my son at home." I nodded and said, "It's okay." Most new recruits were farmers made to fight the monsters for the pitiful sum they gave. Any younger recruits were either dead or about to be dead. They needed experience to survive, and most died before getting any.

The North was not a place that anyone wanted to be if they wished to fight in wars with humans instead of monsters. It was granted that fighting monsters with their claws and speed was much harder than that of a normal fighting man.

For the rest of breakfast, I was talking with someone—well, more like listening. But it was a start because I had never really had a friend. He started asking about my hometown and what my parents were like.

I just shook my head at these questions, and he looked at me with the same emotion as the whole canteen. I was confused and couldn't understand what he and everyone else were thinking.