Warrior Training System

"How many of these things do they even have?" Larick asked, his exhaustion evident as he took a long drink from a flask of tree sap and chewed on some bark. For hours now, they had been locked in relentless combat against the clones. Larick alone had taken down at least eight, and counting the others, the number of clones killed today had to be in the hundreds.

Despite the brutal onslaught, the group hadn't suffered a single death in days. Their growing experience was paying off, but the unending battles and lack of rest were pushing everyone to their limits. The thirty-strong group, now seasoned warriors, stayed close together, watching each other's backs.

It was easier now to distinguish between real people and clones—the wounds on their bodies told the story. None of the clones they had encountered so far had escaped alive, making the chance of an imposter among them really low.

"Doesn't it take time to make them? And what about the cost?" Selene asked, her tone thoughtful as she considered the sheer number of clones they'd encountered. The way they were being sent out in waves suggested whoever was behind this had the capability to produce them in bulk. By now, the group had faced and destroyed enough clones to form a small army—an army of fake Circle warriors, no less.

No one had clear answers to her questions. Cassian, who knew more about human biology than most in the group, wasn't anywhere close to the expertise of even a beginner mage specializing in anatomy. If someone like that were here, they might have uncovered more clues.

The best Cassian had figured out was that the clones' "domains" weren't true domains at all. They were imitations, functioning as mana fields imbued with some form of intent. These fields were powerful and seemed to be perfectly controlled by the clones. Strangely, the clones not only utilized these mana fields flawlessly but also managed to replicate techniques—and, in some cases, refine them too.

Not that the clones fully mastered the techniques, but they were noticeably better than their real counterparts in certain aspects. Having sparred with both Selene's real self and her clones, Cassian noticed the clones had corrected several of Selene's significant and minor mistakes.

The difference in skill wouldn't be as pronounced if the real individuals faced their own clones directly, but a rule had been established to avoid misunderstandings: no one fought their own clone. For now, others could take on the clones instead, and even those who initially fought in pairs were now managing to handle a clone on their own. As the number of clones increased, the strategy had shifted—the weaker members focused on defending against their clones just long enough for the stronger fighters to finish their opponents and step in to assist. This approach had made things more manageable, but if the clones' numbers ever doubled that of the group, the situation would quickly become overwhelming.

Cassian shook his head, pushing aside thoughts of strategy and the endless stream of clones. Among the group, he was the only one unscathed, thanks to his strong healing capabilities. Even Selene, who had faced his clone earlier, bore deep wounds and was constantly using her domain to accelerate her healing. The others were no better off, their faces etched with exhaustion and pain as they chewed on dry tree bark and sipped sap from the trees. Larick and Amina shared the same drained expressions, their spirits frayed by the relentless battles.

Cassian glanced around, noting the slumped shoulders and hollow stares of his comrades. It was obvious no one could endure much more. The thought that the next wave of clones might be their last filled the air with a suffocating tension.

Determined, he picked up his sword, its weight grounding him. Walking toward Amina, he spoke with a steady resolve, "Let's make this the final battle. Either we die, or we break free from this nightmare."

Larick let out a dry chuckle as he pushed himself to his feet. "The dying part, I get," he said, brushing off his pants. "But breaking free? How exactly are we pulling that off?"

Cassian smirked, holding up a cloth bag that was dripping with blood. "I have a way," he replied, his tone teasingly cryptic.

Larick's expression twisted into a mix of disgust and amusement as he eyed the bag. "What, you planning to chuck body parts at the clones? That your big plan?" he asked, smirking despite himself.

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head as he slung the bag over his shoulder. "You'll see when the time comes," he said with a sly grin. "Just stay alive until then." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and began walking away, putting the bloody bag casually against his shoulder.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Larick muttered something under his breath, shooting a glance at Amina, who let out an exhausted sigh. "He's such a jerk," she said with a small, tired smile. "Just tell us already, you fucking asshole. I'm too drained to keep fighting without knowing there's at least some hope."

Cassian chuckled, twirling his sword in his hand as he gave Amina a mock bow. "Oh, your highness, forgive me for keeping my master plan to myself. But trust me, when the time comes, you'll all be amazed by my brilliance."

Amina rolled her eyes. "If by 'brilliance' you mean getting us killed faster, then sure, I'm amazed already."

Larick let out a groan, leaning heavily on his spear. "Look, if we're going to die, can we at least do it with full stomachs? This bark is making my teeth hurt, and I'm starting to think it's just flavored wood."

"Flavored wood?" Selene raised an eyebrow, biting into her piece with a loud crunch. "You're giving it too much credit. This is definitely un-flavored."

The group trudged along the dirt path, their steps heavy but purposeful. The dense forest around them was eerily silent, the only sounds being their breathing and the occasional crunch of bark underfoot. Cassian led the group with Amina beside him, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement.

Selene and Larick took up the rear, both keeping their weapons at the ready. Larick occasionally muttered something under his breath about clones and bark, earning a faint smile from Selene.

As they walked, a subtle shift in the air made everyone stop in their tracks. Cassian held up a hand, signaling for silence.

"Spread out," he whispered, his voice low but firm.

The group instinctively fell into formation, splitting into two horizontal lines. Each line moved parallel to the other, with enough distance between individuals to react quickly without getting in each other's way. The first line, consisting of Cassian, Amina, and thirteen others, advanced cautiously. The second line mirrored their movements a few paces behind.

This simple but effective formation had become second nature to them. It allowed them to cover more ground while staying close enough to support one another. If a fight broke out, they could collapse into a tighter group or spread out further depending on the situation.

Cassian glanced back, making eye contact with Selene, who gave him a small nod. He returned the gesture, then refocused on the path ahead.

"Keep your eyes sharp," Amina murmured, her voice barely audible.

Larick, from the back, grumbled, "Eyes are sharp. Legs are dead."

"Shh," Selene hissed, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone.

The group continued forward, the tension growing with each step. The silence of the forest was almost oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached their ears—a low, rhythmic thumping. Cassian froze, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Amina nodded, her eyes narrowing as she tried to pinpoint the source. "It's coming from up ahead."

"Sounds like... footsteps?" Larick guessed, his voice uneasy.

"A lot of footsteps," Selene added, her grip tightening on her spear.

Cassian's eyes narrowed as he listened, trying to judge the distance and direction of the approaching noise. "Definitely more than one... and they're coming fast."

Amina shifted her stance, her hand resting lightly on her sword hilt. "Could be a Fairies. Stay alert."

Larick looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Faires? Or an army of clones?"

"Let's not assume it's fairies just yet," Cassian said, his tone steady but with a hint of tension. "But we'll be ready if it is."

The sound of footsteps grew louder, now accompanied by the rustling of branches and leaves being crushed underfoot. The group quickly fell into a tighter formation, each person bracing for whatever was coming.

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The sound of footsteps grew louder, a rhythmic pounding that reverberated through the earth. It was unmistakable—many individuals were approaching, their pace swift and deliberate. The forest ahead began to stir with movement, and flashes of color flickered through the dense foliage. Some figures sprinted directly toward the group, their forms darting between the trees. Others leapt from the towering branches above, their movements unnervingly agile, while a few seemed to zap through the air in erratic bursts, closing the distance at an alarming rate.

Tension gripped the group as the figures came into clearer view. The unsettling realization settled over them—these weren't fairies or unknown creatures. Many of the approaching forms bore an eerie resemblance to their friends and even themselves. The sight drained what little hope they had left, for those figures being to be fairies.