"Hey, rookie, get up here!" a man shouted. His voice was fierce and harsh.
The door opened and a young man stepped in. Tall, broad-shouldered, bulky, strong. He snapped to attention and saluted the one who had yelled.
"Yes sir, Baron."
"At ease," Baron said. After a short pause, he continued, "You've been stationed in the battle unit right after training. You must be quite strong. In our regimen, most people become guards first, spend a few years there, gain experience, and only then join a battle unit. Getting placed here right after training is impressive. Even I didn't achieve that. So I guess you're going to be stronger than I ever was, huh?"
"No, sir, I could never hope to surpass you. Your achievements during BATTLE ACT-1 were remarkable," the rookie said humbly.
"My achievements during ACT-1 were indeed extraordinary," Baron admitted, "I killed many of those fury-driven elites of the clan. But I checked your stats, and they beat mine by a huge margin from when I was your age. They're so good that you're second only to a few elites… and Lord Heir."
"I feel extremely honored being placed in the same list as Lord Heir. He's an incredibly talented individual… carefully crafted by God himself."
"Oh, that's true. H is powerful. I'm sure he's stronger right now than I was in my prime."
"Sir…" the soldier said, shocked. After a pause he added, "I know he's capable, but stronger than you in your glory days? I didn't think the gap between us was that big…"
"You're already stronger than I am right now. Give yourself some credit, boy. They're elites, with better resources than you. To make it this far on your own is an achievement. And I know you're wondering why someone with your talent ended up in a battle unit with no major battles or guarding assignments."
"Yes, sir. That thought crossed my mind. But I trust the allocation team. They're some of our best, so I don't expect any miscalculations."
"You're right." Baron leaned back slightly. "We're guarding two prisoners here. Survivors from ACT-1. Some of those filthy, rage-driven beasts escaped us."
The young soldier's eyes widened. A pulse of disbelief hit him like a physical blow.
"Survivors…?" he whispered, the shock settling cold and sharp in his chest. "I didn't know there were any. I was just a kid when it happened, but everyone talked about it. It was the most horrifying cleanse I've ever heard of."
He swallowed hard, voice trembling. "They said our clan head finally decided to put an end to them… an attack that wiped out an entire clan."
"Yeah… we still don't know who ordered it," Baron said quietly. "But the operation was led by our strongest, Lord L. He handpicked the team, gathered the resources, and carried the mission all the way to the end. He faced their rival, the strongest of their clan, Lord F. It was a merciless battle. No room for mistakes. No room for hesitation. A true nightmare for everyone involved."
His jaw tightened as he continued.
"Anyway… these rats were spotted in the city a while back, acting suspicious. When they were caught and interrogated with our advanced tech, it was revealed that these remnants of their clan…"
The soldier's lips tightened. "So that's why they weren't executed immediately, and why a war hero and other top soldiers are stationed here — to use the prisoners as bait, to draw out any others."
"Exactly." Baron's voice snapped back into command. "So stay sharp. One careless moment and you'll be dead — and the mission will fail. And let me be perfectly clear: failure in my presence will not be tolerated." He slammed the last word down like a gavel.