The unconscious mercenary stirred and woke under the magic's effect. When he saw his half-missing left leg, he let out a hysterical scream and thrashed on the stretcher.
Several mercenaries rushed to hold him down.
As Eliel moved to treat the other injured man, Victor grabbed Jason. "What happened?!"
Jason's eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse. "It was those bastards from Crimson Thorn! We were hunting a Howlerbone, and those scumbags from Crimson Thorn appeared out of nowhere! They deliberately lured a Rage-Ursar, used a bloodthirst potion to send it into a complete frenzy, and had it charge our hunting circle from behind! Massimo and Jovanni were seriously injured covering the others' retreat!"
[Howlerbone, Rank-4 monster, ape-like in appearance.]
[Rage-Ursar, Rank-5 monster, bear-like in appearance.]
"Those bastards dared to pull such a treacherous trick!" Victor was also furious. A terrifying, murderous light shot from his one eye, and a chilling killing aura radiated from him.
"Boss Victor! I'll go gather the brothers right now! We'll raid Crimson Thorn's den today and get revenge for Massimo and Jovanni!" Jason spun around, ready to charge toward the barracks.
"Wait! Jason! You stop right there!" Victor grabbed him and roared, "If you go charging over there now, that's a direct declaration of war on Crimson Thorn! Dario isn't in Luminea right now. We can't rashly provoke a large-scale conflict! It's not the time for an all-out war with them!" Though filled with rage, Victor had not lost his reason.
"Then what do you suggest we do?!" Jason demanded, his bloodshot eyes full of unwillingness. "Are Massimo and Jovanni's injuries for nothing?! Are we just going to swallow this insult?!"
Victor roared, "Jason! Who do you think you're talking to?! This is Luminea! Not a battlefield! If we really go to war with Crimson Thorn, the city guard and the Mercenary Union will definitely intervene! In the end, we'll be the ones who suffer! We'll settle this score when Dario gets back!" When Victor got truly angry, Jason instinctively flinched and didn't dare say another word.
"Alright, Jovanni's life is saved," Eliel said, finally finishing his treatment. He shook his slightly dizzy head and stood up, his face pale. Treating two such severely injured men in a row was a significant drain, even for an experienced Rank-3 healing Mage like him.
"Are they both okay now?" Jason rushed over, asking anxiously.
"Jovanni was lucky. His internal organs and meridians weren't damaged. He should mostly recover after half a month of rest. But Massimo... he's crippled," Master Eliel said, shaking his head helplessly.
"Is there really nothing that can be done? I heard there's magic that can regenerate limbs?"
"The Nature spell Rebirth Bloom and the Light spell Hymn of Light can do that. But only High-Rank Mages can master them! Even if we could find one, we probably couldn't afford the price of their services."
"He's lucky to be alive. Take Massimo back," Victor said, waving his one arm wearily.
A thick, oppressive cloud of sorrow settled over the training ground. Everyone present knew that Massimo's career as a mercenary was over.
Rayne watched the scene silently.
Just then, Victor suddenly turned and stared at him. "Kid, you saw all of this. Do you still want to learn that Doomseeker Strike?"
"If I don't learn it, does that mean I won't have to die?" Rayne's tone was surprisingly calm.
"At least you won't die so quickly. A mercenary's life is one where you can face death at any moment. The Doomseeker Strike demands that its practitioner walk the line between life and death again and again, seeking a sliver of hope in the shadow of mortality!"
"When my mother was killed by those beastmen, I thought I would die with her. Later, I was taken to the beastman camp and watched children my age die one by one. This life of mine will end sooner or later. I just hope that the next time I face death, I will have enough strength to fight back, instead of just watching helplessly like I did back then!" A faint, crystalline shimmer of tears welled up in Rayne's calm eyes.
It was only then that Victor and the surrounding mercenaries began to grasp what kind of terrifying and cruel things this boy, who always had a smile on his face, had once experienced.
"Good kid! Well said! Since you already have that courage, then starting tomorrow, prepare to face true death!" Victor reached out and clapped Rayne on the shoulder.
The next morning, on the Salt Blade's training ground.
"Your punches must be faster! Land the first blow to save your own damn life in a fight!" Victor barked, guiding Rayne's every move with a thick wooden staff.
If Rayne's movements hesitated for even a moment, the staff would whistle through the air and find its mark.
"The Doomseeker Strike has seventy-two forms in total, covering attacks with fists, feet, elbows, and knees. It must be fast, precise, and ruthless, aimed at the enemy's vital points..."
Victor explained the essence of the warform in a deep voice.
"Why create such a vicious warform?" Rayne asked, panting, a hint of confusion in his voice.
Every move in this set was filled with undisguised killing intent.
"This is a life-or-death art from the human army! Every time you strike, it's either you kill the enemy, or the enemy kills you first!"
"Can't you kill an enemy with other moves?"
"There are no fixed moves for killing! The Doomseeker Strike is simply an effective method, summarized in blood from countless life-or-death battles! It's only meant to get you started!"
"I'm more used to the beastman way of attacking, just pouncing and biting," Rayne said, scratching the back of his head, a little embarrassed.
"You'd best forget all that nonsense from the beastman camp! Their warforms may look fierce, but they're full of openings, leaving plenty of room for a counter-attack! Back in my day, when we fought beastman soldiers of the same rank, we won easily! Even when fighting above our rank, the Doomseeker Strike gave us a fighting chance!" As he said this, a trace of pride involuntarily appeared on Victor's face.
"You were a soldier?" Rayne keenly caught the information revealed in Victor's words. "Then Captain Dario, Brother Jason, and the others... were they all from the army too?"
Rayne had always felt that the Salt Blade was different from other mercenary legions he had seen. Its members lacked the usual lax and slick attitude of common mercenaries. Their training, coordination, and discipline during missions all carried the strong imprint of a formal army.
At Rayne's question, the expression on Victor's face froze. A complex, unreadable light flickered in his one eye, and he said nothing for a long time.
Rayne sensed that beneath Victor's rough and bold exterior, there must be a hidden, thrilling story.
However, his curiosity was met with Victor's thunderous roar.
"That's none of a little brat's business! Stop your wild guessing! Now practice this warform another hundred times!"
...
From then on, Victor subjected Rayne to a devilish training regimen that was nothing short of brutal.
In a corner of the training ground, Dario leaned against the gatepost, arms crossed, watching Rayne with great interest as he sweated under the blazing sun, gritting his teeth to persevere. A playful smile touched his lips. He spoke lazily to Victor, who had appeared beside him at some point. "Old friend, you're using the same tough-as-nails methods on this kid that you used to train those new recruits back in the army. Aren't you afraid... of breaking him?"
"This kid can endure more hardship than any soldier I've ever trained! He's got an unyielding ferocity in his bones!"
"Heh, the kid's a natural-born warrior!" Dario's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Alright, enough of this useless talk," Victor said, his eyes growing serious. "What's your plan for the Crimson Thorn situation?"
Dario's smile faded slightly, a cold curve forming on his lips. "Last time at the Orchid Bar, Damari lost his sword and his face, but we didn't completely burn our bridges. This time, since they dared to play dirty, we'll play along."