The perpetual gloom of the Darkling Woods had become a familiar, if unsettling, backdrop to Adam's days. It was another afternoon, the period between 1 PM and 6 PM when the prison's inner sanctum transformed into a brutal training ground. Today, however, felt different. There was a shared purpose among the group that transcended mere survival.
Adam, Harry, Panchenko, and Jones met up with Astrid, Lee, Ylva, and Pao (or rather, the grim space where Pao used to be) at a pre-arranged rendezvous point deep within the gnarled forest. Julian stood waiting for them, his red hair a stark contrast to the dark trees, his blade glinting faintly.
"Alright," Julian stated, his voice calm and authoritative, "we're not just surviving anymore. We're preparing. Today, we focus on coordinated movement and identifying weaknesses." He swept his hand across the desolate landscape. "These woods are teeming with monsters, but they're not invincible. Every creature has a flaw, a soft spot. Our goal is to find it, exploit it, and move on, minimizing damage."
He started them with drills, simple at first, focusing on evasion and positioning against imaginary threats. Julian moved with an effortless grace, demonstrating fluid footwork and precise strikes with his blade.
"Think of your weapon as an extension of your body, not just a tool," he instructed, parrying an imaginary blow. "Anticipate, don't react. Read the monster's intent."
Astrid, quick and agile, quickly picked up on his movements, her daggers a blur. Lee, though favoring his still-healing leg, used his nunchaku to great effect, finding openings in Julian's mock defenses. Even Harry, though still nervous, found a surprising accuracy with his bow when given clear targets. Jones and Ylva, with their raw power, focused on breaking through defenses, while Panchenko used his spear's reach to cover their flanks.
"Remember the Treant's glowing core?" Julian prompted. "That's what we look for. Every monster has something similar, even if it's not as obvious. Sometimes it's a joint, sometimes a particular sensory organ. Observe, adapt."
They moved deeper into the woods, Julian guiding them, pointing out hidden paths and warning signs. They encountered a group of Shadow-Crawlers, stealthy, chameleon-like beasts that blended seamlessly with the dark bark. Julian demonstrated how to use the subtle shifts in the air currents to detect their presence before they struck, and how to expose their vulnerable undersides.
"Excellent work, Adam!" Julian called out as Adam deftly dodged a Shadow-Crawler's lunge and impaled it. "Your instincts are sharp. You learn quickly."
Meanwhile, far above, in the sterile confines of a control room overlooking the central arena, Ursa, a high-ranking demon officer with a scarred face and an air of coiled menace, listened intently to a report from the demon guard who had overheard Adam's group.
"So, they speak of Edward Bloodrose?" Ursa's voice was a low growl, like stones grinding together. "And of escape? In my prison?"
The demon guard, slightly trembling, bowed his head. "Yes, commander. They spoke of the Vampire Lord being able to 'kill every demon guard without breaking a sweat' and of a 'secret Level Six.' The human called Tom seemed to be leading the discussion."
Ursa's single visible eye glinted with cold amusement. "Fools. To dream such foolish dreams in the very heart of Kazakhar." He leaned back in his chair, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Do they suspect we know?"
"No, Commander," the guard replied. "They seem oblivious."
"Good," Ursa purred. "Continue to watch them. Every move, every conversation. Let them build their hopes. Let them gather their allies. Let them think they have a chance. When the time comes, when they are at their most vulnerable, when they think they are closest to their impossible dream… we strike. It will be a lesson not just for them, but for every other slave in this prison. A lesson in futility."
Back in the Darkling Woods, exhausted but exhilarated, the training continued. They had faced and overcome several groups of monsters, coordinating their attacks with increasing efficiency under Julian's guidance. During a brief lull, as they rested against the rough bark of a fallen tree, Adam turned to Julian.
"Julian," Adam began, curiosity overcoming his exhaustion, "where did you learn all of this? Your fighting style, your knowledge of these creatures… it's incredible."
Julian looked out into the shadowy depths of the woods, a flicker of something distant, almost melancholic, in his ruby eyes. He turned back, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.
"I am a disciple of Sword Saint Veresha," Julian replied, his voice soft but filled with a quiet reverence. "She taught me everything I know."