Chapter 175
Chapter 174: The Edge of Precision
Snow crunched under boots as the wind swept across the training grounds, carrying the scent of pine and cold iron. Breath came out in pale wisps as the trainees shifted restlessly, forming into their newly assigned groups. The morning air bit with sharp freshness, the kind that woke the blood and burned the lungs—but it wasn’t enough to dull the nervous energy sparking between them.
“Before we begin,” Orion said, his voice carrying through the training grounds. “I need you guys to know that I’m not going to go easy on anyone. Be you an amateur or not. There’s a reason you all…sorry, 99.9percent of you are training to be fighters p>
The moment he said 99.9percent, his gaze found Sophia’s. She knew what he meant, that she was that 0.1 percent. If only they were alone right now. Too bad she had pushed for him to even train the trainees too.
“You will face dangers far greater than this training,” he continued. “Those who pass will likely join in protecting the pack from attacks from the beasts that live in Nirvana. So if you expect me to go easy on you, you may leave now. I’ll treat you guys like potential warriors and not babies. If that isn’t what you want, then you may as well become a spectator and leave now p>
Orion waited to see if anyone would move out of the training grounds but instead, they all stared with a determined glint in their eyes as if getting ready for his lecture.
Orion chuckled. “Aren’t you guys too determined to learn from me p>
“Yes sir!” Someone replied making Orion smile again but just as he did, the smile disappeared and he became serious.
“Since you’ve all signed your fate…form up. We’ll do something simple first.” He informed them.
He and Garron walked side by side through the ranks. Orion’s steps were measured, calm; Garron’s boots sank heavier in the dirt path now being coated by snow, his sharp eyes sweeping through the groups with silent approval.
Behind them, the racks of wooden weapons stood ready—bows, spears, swords, axes—all shaped from sturdy ashwood for safety but balanced just like steel. Those were backups in case someone required a new weapon.
Sophia lingered at the edge of her own group, watching Orion move.
“All right,” Orion said, voice firm now. “Warm up. You know the drill p>
No one moved fast enough. He raised an eyebrow.
“Um…do I have to repeat myself?” He asked calmly.
The trainees jolted to life instantly—stretching, jogging in place, twisting their arms and shoulders. Garron barked a few sharp corrections here and there, adjusting postures, tightening formations.
When the rustle of movement settled into rhythm, Orion crossed his arms, surveying the field like a sculptor examining unfinished stone. Snow flurried gently over the clearing, melting against his hair and lashes.
“Good,” he finally said. “Are you all awake now?” He asked them.
“We’ve been awake since you stepped foot into the training grounds.” Someone spoke up.
“Ah…that’s why you all were perfectly capable of pestering me right?” He asked with a smile.
“Being awake doesn’t necessarily mean opening your eyes. It’s means awakening every part of you, your limbs, your senses, everything. ” Orion told them.
“And stretching helps?” Dren asked him.
“When stretching, did you feel the cold?” Orion asked him.
“Yes p>
“Did you feel the snow on the ground and tried to look for a better place and even angle that will be less likely to make your limbs sore?” Orion asked him.
“I did that…oh.” Dren said with a nod.
“It awakens your senses. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin p>
He turned first toward the archery group, a small cluster of ten standing with their wooden bows.
“Archers, follow me.” He told them.
They followed him toward a section of the field where wooden stands and makeshift targets had been set up. The air here felt stiller, focused. Garron stood back, arms folded, watching as Orion knelt briefly and began stacking smooth river stones into a pyramid on a low stump.
One trainee frowned. “Are… those our targets p>
Orion didn’t answer right away. He finished stacking until the pyramid stood about a foot tall, each stone balanced perfectly despite the wind’s gentle push. Only then did he straighten and brush snow from his hands.
“Yes,” he said at last, “they are p>
The trainees exchanged looks. Someone muttered, “He’s joking p>
Orion’s lips twitched. “Do I look like I’m joking p>
That silenced them quickly.
“You’ll each have one,” he continued, gesturing toward the other stumps where Garron was already arranging more pyramids. “Your task is simple. You take down each stone, and I mean one by one, with your arrows. Not the base, not a scatter shot. One by one p>
Several jaws dropped. One trainee young, with freckles and a too-large coat raised his hand tentatively.
“Sir, with all due respect… the wind’s a bit strong. It’ll throw off the p>
“The wind,” Orion interrupted smoothly, “is the same for all of you. It’s not an excuse, it’s an element p>
He took a wooden bow from one of the racks, testing the draw with practiced ease. “A good archer doesn’t fight the wind. They read it. Feel it. Breathe with it. If you rely only on what you see, you’ll miss when it matters most p>
He stepped closer to the nearest pyramid, his tone low but carrying. “An archer’s strength isn’t in the arm. It’s here—” he tapped his temple lightly “—and here.” His hand pressed against his chest. “Patience and rhythm. The bow listens to both p>
Then, without another word, he nocked an arrow, one used for practice, the head was blunt and wrapped with a cloth to prevent hurt. The arrow took out a stone from the pyramid perfectly without scattering the rest.
He knocked another and this time, the wind stirred, carrying a hiss through the grounds. Orion exhaled slowly, almost lazily and released.
Thunk.
This time, the topmost stone rolled off the pyramid.
Another arrow followed—then another—and another. Each struck with perfect precision, sending a stone tumbling neatly into the snow until nothing but the base remained.
When the last stone fell, the group stood speechless. Orion lowered the bow, expression calm as if he’d just done something utterly ordinary.
Someone finally blurted, “How…how did you p>