As training continued for days, I taught them everything I knew. My four scouts practiced Arnis martial arts every single day, wielding their long knives with dedication and focus.
Today, it was time to test them.
I picked up a round shield and a spear, stepping into the center of the open field as I called out:
"Scouts! Assemble!"
The four of them arrived swiftly, sweat glistening on their brows, blades already strapped to their sides.
I stared at them with unwavering seriousness.
"Today, I will test your ability to fight.
For several days, I've taught you many things—skills, techniques, martial arts.
Today, you will show me the result of your effort... and mine.
If you pass, you'll officially be the scouts of Rong Village, and I will assign your first mission."
Their expressions sharpened with intensity as they unsheathed their blades. Eyes focused. Hands steady.
I twirled the spear once and pointed its tip toward them.
"Come at me."
The wind stilled. A tense silence surrounded us. Then they moved—like phantoms.
They began to circle me, their footwork light, fluid, and silent—like cats stalking prey in a jungle. There was no wasted motion, no sound. I nodded slightly in approval, but I could sense them. I could feel every twitch in the air, every vibration in the ground.
Then they struck.
All four at once—from four different directions—arcing in like predators in perfect sync.
I tightened my grip and dropped into a Spartan stance, shield raised, spear poised.
I didn't move a step.
As they closed in, I use my technique—
HEMA, Historical European Martial Arts. I'd learned it in my past life from old scrolls and museum demonstrations.
Clang! My shield knocked one blade away.
Thud! A backward pivot swept a second scout to the dirt.
Clack! My spear deflected the third's strike and cracked against their shoulder.
Three were down.
But one remained.
And then—something unexpected happened.
The last scout stood firm, his blade beginning to glow with a faint green light. His breathing slowed. His muscles tightened, not in panic—but in precision.
"He's using Aura," I murmured, a grin forming.
He rushed in, his blade slicing through the air with wild, spiraling patterns—a master of Arnis, flowing like water, yet sharp like steel. He slashed toward my side, then reversed with a spin to my back. But I was ready.
With a roar, I activated my own aura—
Gold radiated from my spear and shield like sunlight igniting bronze.
I clashed against him directly, our weapons meeting in a dazzling shockwave of sparks.
We exchanged a flurry of blows—
Steel clanged. Air trembled. Ground cracked.
But eventually, I caught the rhythm of his steps, the slight pause between feints, the minor lag in footwork... and I struck.
He fell back, tumbling into the dirt.
All four scouts now lay on the ground, panting heavily, bodies bruised but unbroken.
I stepped forward and called out,
"Stand up."
With shaking legs and trembling arms, they slowly rose, gasping for air.
"You all... pass as scouts."
Their eyes lit up in surprise and pride.
"If this had been in a forest, you could have given me quite an injury.
This fight is your last lesson—never strike in open terrain. Always use the environment.
Make it favor you, not your opponent."
The four nodded, hands over their hearts.
"Understood, Chief."
I turned to the one who wielded the green aura.
"You. What is your name?"
He stepped forward, eyes gleaming with determination.
"Metis."
"Metis," I declared, "from now on, you are the leader of the scouts.
The other three will follow your instruction and orders. You're a natural—both as a scout and a martial artist."
He bowed.
"Thank you, Chief."
I then raised my hand and pointed to the woods.
"Here is your first mission:
Scout the path from Rong Village to the Great Orc Village.
Report the location and movement of orcs, where they're marching, and bring back any crucial information."
Metis saluted.
"Yes, Chief. I will complete this mission."
With that, the four of them disappeared into the trees.
I exhaled a long sigh.
"Well... that was tiring.
It's hard acting like a Chief all the time."
Then I called out,
"Aries!"
From the side, Aries approached, bow in hand. A wooden one we'd crafted earlier.
He stood tall and spoke clearly,
"Yes, Chief?"
I asked,
"How's your shooting?"
Without a word, he pulled out a pouch and spilled ten fresh rabbits onto the ground.
"I hunted them while they were running," he said casually.
I raised my brow, impressed.
"You know... Kyudo isn't all about hitting the target.
It's about mental focus—you must draw the bow with serenity, aim with clarity, and release the arrow with a calm mind."
Aries replied,
"I understand, Chief.
But I think this technique may not suit my style.
I can learn it from you... but I believe my path is different."
Interesting... he's catching on quickly.
But I frowned slightly.
I can't guide him properly... Archery isn't my expertise. I only learned it out of curiosity...
But I had to say something.
I placed my hand on my chin and began stroking it like a wise sage.
I lifted my chin and tried to channel the voice of a philosopher on a Chinese mountain.
"Aries... everyone has a different path.
Every martial art is unique.
If you find that your martial art isn't aligned with your path...
Then search for the one that is."
What bullsht am I even saying...?*
He looked at me sincerely.
"So, Chief... what is the martial art that aligns with my path?"
I turned my head slowly, stared into the sky, and raised both arms.
"Only you can find it.
I can only guide you... to the direction of your destiny."
Cue zither music in the background. Chinese flute intensifies. A wise monk nods somewhere far away.
"Chief..." he said slowly.
"So... what is destiny?"
"Destiny," I replied, spreading my arms like a stage actor,
"is life."
He looked up at the sky, stunned.
What the hell am I doing...?
Before he could ask more, I clapped my hands loudly.
The imaginary background vanished.
"Lesson's over! Go practice Kyudo and think about what I said."
He stood, utterly confused, and walked away slowly, eyes full of questions.
I sighed.
"Damn... I have no idea what he realized or what he's going to do with that nonsense."
Then I saw them—
The warriors returning from the forest.
They looked like Spartan warriors—muscular, rough, radiating raw power.
And the female warriors? Their physique had also sharpened.
They stood proud, swords and shields in hand. They looked like they could conquer a whole village.
I called them to gather.
As they arrived, I smiled.
"Well... now you look like proper warriors.
My Spartan warriors are at least capable of fighting immortals.
And my Valkyries—
You could raid the Great Orc Village yourselves."
They cheered loudly, fists raised, pride glowing on every face.
I raised a finger.
"Okay, now it's time to select a vice leader in this unit."
Suddenly... the atmosphere turned sharp.
Everyone's eyes darkened with strange seriousness, shoulders tensing, faces unreadable.
Well yes... that's the look.
The look of warriors ready to find out who's the strongest.