Chapter 207: A Different Kind of Sparring

The morning sun sat thin and brittle over the training grounds, the packed snow glittering beneath the pale light.

Dren leaned in close to Sophia, low enough that his words were little more than breath. "I don’t think it’s going to be that simple," he whispered.

Sophia gave him the smallest of nods. Her face was a study in control — jaw clenched only slightly, eyes set to the task — but the thin line at the corner of her mouth betrayed the exhaustion running beneath her resolve.

Nia scoffed, speaking just loud enough for their group to hear. "Of course it’s not going to be that simple."

Joren turned to her with a frown. "Alpha Orion doesn’t lie."

Nia rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows he doesn’t lie. The issue is, this may be a simple task for him — or rather, by his terms — but it doesn’t mean it’s going to be simple for us. I don’t trust him one bit," she said, gesturing toward Orion.

"Alpha Orion is trustworthy. There’s no need to doubt him," Joren told her.

Nia turned to him, then muttered what sounded like a small prayer to the gods because, at that moment, she could not indulge in Joren’s worshipping of Orion. In the boy’s eyes, Orion could do no wrong. He was a symbol of justice.

It wasn’t that she disagreed with him — it was just that she wasn’t as fanatical. Beside her, Laia laughed. It was no surprise to anyone that Joren would always be the first to defend and support Orion.

"Why the laughter?" Nia asked her sister, though her lips twitched a little.

"I don’t know, maybe because you had the mind to speak ill of the Alpha in Joren’s presence," Laia said, chuckling.

"I did not speak ill of him. I said he was not to be trusted," Nia argued.

"And that, in Joren’s speech, is speaking ill of Alpha Orion," Laia said with another laugh.

Orion moved then. He walked to a small patch of packed earth he’d marked earlier and, with the tip of his boot, drew a neat, precise circle — no wider than the span between his feet. It looked ridiculous to anyone who didn’t understand the lesson inside it: a tiny ring, the size of a man’s footprint, but in that space lay an entire test of balance, reading, and control.

He stepped inside and planted his feet as if the earth itself would hold him there for a decade. The others could see faint frost melt where his boots touched; it was the small warmth of a man comfortably centered.

"Now," he spoke, his voice even, "there is only one thing you have to do during this training session, and like I said earlier — it’s simple."

"You said ’simple enough,’" a trainee corrected.

"Same thing," Orion said with a smile. "But back to what I was saying — all you have to do is get me to move from this circle."

A chorus of scoffs answered at once.

"That’s fucking impossible!" someone said loudly, just as another voice rose: "And how exactly do we do that? By pushing you?"

Orion chuckled. "You could try pushing me if that will work — but I should remind you, that’s not the way of a warrior."

"Can I bribe you with food?" someone asked.

"Or with a woman?" another spoke up.

Orion laughed. "I’ve long since stopped my womanizing ways," he said as his eyes locked with Sophia’s for a brief moment before moving elsewhere. "And I’d just eat the food while standing in the circle."

"But then how do we get you to move? During all our sparring sessions, I couldn’t even land a hit on you," Dren spoke up.

Orion’s smile widened. "True — but you managed to scrape me a bit yesterday."

"’Managed,’ and it wasn’t even worth calling a scrape," Dren grumbled, making Orion chuckle.

"One more thing," Orion added, "you’re not going to be fighting alone. You can all attack me. You can come in groups or however you want — it’s up to you."

Immediately, silence descended over the training grounds. Orion watched the trainees with barely contained amusement.

Their glances flicked among one another, confusion spreading like a slow disease. They understood Orion sparring one-on-one — that was what he meant when he said ’individually’ — but this... didn’t this mean they’d have to coordinate an attack together?

"Um... Alpha Orion?" Cat called out. "I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say I’m ridiculously confused. You said you were going to be training us individually some moments ago and would tell us where to improve, but now you’re saying we should attack you together?"

Orion nodded. "Yes."

"Does that mean we have to coordinate with each other? Like... as a team or something?" she asked.

Hums of agreement spread around.

Orion smiled at her. "You don’t have to coordinate or attack me as a team. That’s entirely up to you. And when I said individually, I meant that everyone must make a move. If you think you can shy away or run off, think again — that’s not going to happen. The task I gave you is for every one of you. If you think working together will help, then by all means, work together. But I’ll be taking note of each mistake each individual makes."

Another round of silence fell over them. Most people got one message from what Orion had just said: they had to work together.

But the issue was, since training began, they hadn’t done any teamwork at all. No coordination. So how were they supposed to pull this off?

What Orion suggested would expose every flaw — both individually and as a group.

Someone near the back asked in a shaky voice, "Can we use real weapons?"

He shrugged lightly. "You can." He didn’t make a show of it; a shrug was all the reassurance — or warning — he gave. Then he walked toward the edge where the racks were lined up and picked up a pair of twin short swords from the rack — blades short and blunt to the eye, but honest in their balance. He held them with relaxed fingers, like a man letting his tools rest in his hands.

"Now," he said, standing lazily inside the circle, the blades hanging at his sides, "is that all you guys want to know? Are there any more questions?"