Chapter 198: The Game

The rhythm of wooden soles striking packed earth echoed through the training field. Morning light poured across the grounds, washing the circle of trainees in a pale gold that softened the harsh angles of their focus. Dust hung in the air like smoke, stirred by the shuffle of feet, the occasional grunt of effort, and the quiet corrections murmured between partners from other groups.

Orion stood watching the members of his group. For the past half hour, he’d drilled them on anchor steps — the foundational movements that stabilized their stance and flow, connecting their body’s weight to the ground in a controlled rhythm. It was a motion that looked simple, but the difficulty lay in its precision: timing breath, weight, and reaction as one.

And he was satisfied with their progress. Joren had gotten it enough to stop looking like a camel. Dren was a few steps away from mastering it; he just had to put the practice into actual fighting. Laia and Nia were close, but the little mistakes they made could be corrected by themselves — something they’d have to fix on their own. While those people made him proud, the one person that made his chest swell was Sophia.

Her anchor steps were the smoothest among all the trainees here. She had somewhat mastered it, and she didn’t even have any knowledge except the one he had taught her the previous night. Sophia was something he’d call a prodigy. She was curious but also determined to learn — and damn, she learned well.

Which meant it was time for them to move on.

Orion clapped his hands together. "Alright, that’s enough for this part."

The command rippled through the group. They all straightened, panting as sweat poured from their bodies. He smiled at them, amused that they were sweating when the main work hadn’t even begun yet.

"If you’re sweating like this now, I can only imagine how you’ll be when we finish," Orion told them.

"We’re not done?" a trainee asked.

Orion shook his head. "No, we’re not. You know what anchor steps are now. You can perform them well enough. But it doesn’t end there."

He walked among them, his shadow long against the dirt. "Anchor steps alone are useless without footwork. What you’ve learned is how to plant yourselves. What you’ll learn now is how to move while staying grounded."

Nia groaned softly under her breath. "He makes it sound easy," she told Sophia.

"I know, right?" Sophia replied with a huff.

Orion smirked faintly. "It’s supposed to sound easy. If it sounded hard, half of you would have quit by now."

A few scattered chuckles lightened the mood.

He turned, hands clasped loosely behind his back. "When you merge anchor steps with footwork, you’re not just moving your feet. You’re reading your opponent. Watching for shifts in weight, hesitation, or overconfidence. Every motion tells you a story if you’re sharp enough to see it."

Laia raised her hand hesitantly. "Um... but I still don’t know what footwork to use."

He faced her, expression thoughtful. "Use what’s best for you."

She blinked, uncertain. "What does that mean exactly?"

"It means," Orion said, tone matter-of-fact, "I can correct your stance, but I’m not here to tell you who to be in battle. Everyone’s movement is different. Some of you move light, fast — like Laia there. Others," he gestured toward Dren, who stood solid and steady, "move with weight and purpose. The trick is finding what feels like breathing to you. Because when you fight, you don’t think about your steps — they happen. If they don’t flow, they’ll fail you."

He stopped before Sophia, who was still catching her breath. She straightened when his gaze fell on her. She had no idea what he was going to do next.

Orion smirked, then turned his gaze away. "Pick up your weapons."

The trainees obeyed. The faint creak of leather straps and the wooden clatter of blades filled the air.

"Now," Orion continued, "we pair up."

"Pair up?" Dren asked him in shock. "As in twos?"

"No, as in fours. Of course in twos, Dren — what else do I mean?" Orion asked him with an eye-roll, sending chuckles through the group.

Immediately, the energy shifted. Pairs began forming instinctively — Dren started moving toward Sophia and the twins toward each other — when Orion stopped them.

"Stop. Who said you could pair yourselves?" Orion asked.

Joren frowned. "But you said we should pair up."

"I said now we pair up. I never said you should pair yourselves," Orion corrected. "I’ll be pairing you myself."

Everyone stopped and turned to him then. He paired Dren with Laia, Nia with Joren, and so on. He didn’t pair friends together — he just paired people randomly. When he was done, there was only one person without a partner.

Sophia.

She looked around, realized it too, and turned to Orion with a questioning frown. "What about me? Am I not going to be paired with anyone?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he bent down, picked up the scuffed leather ball and straightened. The faintest smile curved his mouth.

"You are," he said. "In fact, you’re already paired with someone."

Her brows lifted. "Who?"

Orion tossed the ball once, catching it lazily. "Me."

A few muffled sounds of horror followed. Dren muttered an audible, "Sorry, Sophia."

Nia snickered beside him. "Your training’s going to be more insane than ours."

Laia winced sympathetically. "I really don’t want to be in your position. I can’t imagine being paired with the Alpha."

Joren turned to Sophia, then patted her reassuringly. "The Alpha’s not that bad — he’s just a little strict. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot."

Sophia gave him a nod and patted his hand back. "Thanks for the reassurance — unlike some other people I know." Her gaze locked with the other three, who turned immediately, pretending they hadn’t seen her.

Sophia adjusted her grip on the sword and began walking toward Orion. Her movements were steady, cautious but not hesitant. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that if anyone would give anyone hell, it’d be her giving Orion hell.

And Joren said Orion was strict? Sophia couldn’t help but chuckle at that, because when it came to her, Orion always had a soft spot.

Orion waited until she reached him, the others watching in various degrees of pity and horror — but mostly pity, like she was walking into a Skylur’s den.

Once she came to stand beside him, Orion turned to the rest of the group.

"You’ll train with each other. Study each other’s movements. Observe the footwork and put your anchor steps into place while doing so," he instructed.

Laia raised her hand again. "But how are we supposed to do all that at once?"

Orion tilted his head slightly, a half-grin tugging at his mouth. "That’s the thing about training. You won’t always be told what to do step by step. The best way to learn how to fight is by trial and error. You’ll make mistakes — obviously, no one’s above mistakes — but you’ll also fix them and remember why they happened. Then you’ll avoid those mistakes and try again until you perfect everything."

He gestured broadly at the field. "Besides, after yesterday, I’m sure most of you went to get more information about your weapons — how to hold them properly, how to make them move like an extension of yourself. Put what you’ve learned into practice. Don’t wait for me to repeat what you already know."

Someone from the back — one of the spear wielders — called out, "When do we start?"

Orion simply pointed at the nearby group under Garron’s supervision, where trainees were already sparring fiercely. "They started ten minutes ago."

"So... that means..." the trainee began.

Orion sighed. "That means you should start now."

That earned a ripple of nervous laughter and a few quick movements as pairs stepped into position.

Orion turned back to Sophia. The leather ball rolled between his palms in a steady rhythm, soft against the backdrop of sparring sounds. His voice dropped low enough that only she could hear.

"Ready?"

"I don’t understand what I should be ready for," she told him.

He tossed the ball from one hand to the other with a flick of his wrist.

"Are you trying to show off again?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Not this time. I’m just throwing the ball now — but I can see your eyes are trained on me," he told her.

"And that’s because you’re directly in front of me, you oaf," she shot back.

Orion smiled. "So this means you’re no longer mad at me, right?"

"I just called you an oaf. What part of that means I’m not mad at you?" she asked.

"The part about you still standing here when you could just walk away," he said lightly.

She glared at him, and he smiled. She couldn’t hold the frown for long, and her lips twitched a bit.

"There it is," Orion said with a laugh.

"What are we doing?" she asked, holding back her smile.

He played with the ball in his hands before speaking up.

"Interested in playing a game of ball with me again?" he asked her.