Chapter 41: Training Day Two – Combat Drills

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Chapter 41: Training Day Two – Combat Drills

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Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm

by Lea von Löwenstein

Chapter 41: Training Day Two – Combat Drills

The dawn brought a crisp chill to the van Daleon estate, the sky painted in muted hues of blue and gray. Rae and her team gathered in the sprawling training yard, the air heavy with anticipation. The echoes of the forge from the previous day still lingered in their minds, but today would be different. Today, they would learn to wield not just their weapons but themselves.

Master Irik van Daleon stood at the center of the yard, his imposing frame framed by the morning light. In one hand, he held a wooden training blade, the other rested on his hip. Around him, various training equipment was arranged—dummies, sparring mats, and weighted targets designed to simulate battlefield scenarios.

“Yesterday, you forged your tools,” Irik began, his deep voice cutting through the still air. “Today, you’ll learn to use them. But make no mistake—combat isn’t just about swinging a blade or firing a bolter. It’s about discipline, control, and understanding your enemy.”

He gestured for them to step forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over the group. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The Warm-Up

The morning began with a series of rigorous drills designed to hone their reflexes and endurance. Irik set up a line of targets, each rigged with small bells that would ring if struck improperly.

“You don’t just hit the target,” Irik explained as he demonstrated a precise strike with his blade. “You strike the right target, at the right angle, with the right force. Anything less, and you might as well hand your weapon to the enemy.”

The team took turns, each learning to strike with precision and control. Rae moved first, her blade cutting cleanly through the designated points on the targets. Her movements were fluid, a testament to the training she had received from her father in years past.

Celestine followed, her strikes swift and sharp, though occasionally reckless. Irik corrected her form, his voice firm. “Speed is an asset, but only if it’s tempered with purpose. Control your momentum.”

Marcus’s approach was slower but deliberate, his sheer strength making each strike thunderous. Irik nodded approvingly but added, “Power’s useless if you can’t direct it. Aim.”

Tyren and Soren worked together, using the tools on Tyren’s cogitator to simulate real-time adjustments. Irik allowed it but warned them, “Technology’s an advantage until it isn’t. Don’t rely on it to save you.”

Sparring Matches

With the warm-up complete, Irik shifted the training to sparring. He paired them off, observing their techniques and offering corrections when needed.

Rae vs. Celestine

Rae and Celestine circled each other, their wooden blades at the ready. Celestine moved first, her speed propelling her into a flurry of strikes. Rae deflected each one with practiced ease, waiting for an opening.

“Don’t rush,” Rae said, countering with a sharp strike that forced Celestine back. “Read your opponent.”

Celestine adjusted, her attacks becoming more measured. She feinted left, drawing Rae’s guard, then spun to strike from the right. Rae blocked just in time, a grin breaking through her focus. “Better.”

Marcus vs. Tyren

Marcus towered over Tyren, his massive frame making him an intimidating opponent. Tyren used his agility to dart around him, landing quick strikes to Marcus’s sides. But Marcus was no easy target. He anticipated Tyren’s movements, using his reach to keep him at bay.

“You’re fast,” Marcus said, deflecting another strike. “But speed only works if you can get in close.”

Tyren grinned, activating a small device on his wrist that sent a flicker of light into Marcus’s eyes. It was enough to disorient him for a moment, allowing Tyren to land a solid hit.

Marcus laughed, shaking his head. “Cheeky. But I like it.”

Soren vs. Irik

Soren hesitated as he faced off against Irik, his grip on his blade unsteady. Irik didn’t attack immediately, instead circling him like a predator. “You’re thinking too much,” Irik said. “Combat isn’t about overthinking—it’s about instinct.”

When Irik finally struck, it was swift and deliberate. Soren barely managed to block, stumbling back. Irik pressed him, forcing him to react rather than plan. Slowly, Soren began to find his rhythm, his movements becoming more fluid.

“Good,” Irik said, lowering his blade. “You’ve got potential. Stop doubting yourself.”

Team Tactics

The final part of the day focused on teamwork. Irik set up a series of scenarios, each designed to challenge their ability to work together under pressure.

In one exercise, they faced a group of automated training dummies programmed to simulate chaos cultists. The dummies moved unpredictably, forcing the team to communicate and adapt.

“Rae, take point!” Marcus called, stepping forward to shield Tyren as he worked to disable one of the dummies’ tracking systems.

Celestine flanked, her speed allowing her to strike at the dummies’ weak points. Soren provided support, calling out enemy positions as he used a small crossbow to pick off targets.

Irik observed from the sidelines, his arms crossed. “You’re learning,” he said as they completed the exercise. “But remember—combat isn’t just about winning. It’s about surviving. Protect each other. No one fights alone.”

Reflection

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the team sat together in the training yard, their bodies sore but their spirits high. Rae leaned back against a stone bench, her blade resting across her knees.

“You’re improving,” Irik said, approaching them with a faint smile. “Today, you learned more than just how to fight. You learned how to trust each other.”

Marcus chuckled, flexing his massive arms. “And how to dodge Tyren’s gadgets.”

Tyren smirked. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Celestine grinned, tapping her blade against Rae’s. “Next time, I’m taking you down.”

Rae smiled, a rare moment of lightness breaking through her usual seriousness. “We’ll see about that.”

As they laughed and shared stories of the day’s matches, Rae felt a renewed sense of purpose. The darkness they had faced in the Scola was still fresh in their minds, but here, under her father’s guidance, they were becoming something stronger.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, they had each other—and that was enough.

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