Wyatt stood on the open training grounds of the Dark Bulls' base. He was no stranger to this place—he'd trained here nearly every morning. But this time felt different.
Craven stood opposite him, as proud and imposing as ever, his twin short-handled axes strapped across his back. From this moment on, Wyatt's training was about to get a whole lot tougher.
"Alright then," Craven said, stompin' the ground like a pissed-off sergeant. "From now on, trainin's gonna be brutal. Ugly. Might even kill ya if ya ain't careful. There'll be days ya wanna quit. Days ya pray fer death.
"Death?" Wyatt laughed awkwardly, then realized no one else was laughing. "Oh. You're serious."
"'Course I am!" Craven barked. "And 'til I'm satisfied with yer trainin', you ain't doin' either!"
"Sir, yes sir!" Wyatt said, standing like a soldier—if that soldier had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
"Good. Any questions?" Craven said, marching like a man who thought he was leading an army instead of one confused sixteen-year-old.
"Oh! Me, me, me!" Wyatt waved his arm so hard it looked like he might take flight, grinning like this was the best part of training.
Callum and Lung who were also doing their morning routine, turned to Wyatt and Craven, their faces heavy with the quiet, soul-crushing realization that this was their life now.
"Aye, the lad with the fancy lil' daggers, " Craven said proudly. It was hard to tell whether he was playing along… or just genuinely that dumb.
"So, what's different about this training?" Wyatt asked, fists clenched with excitement.
"Good question." Craven replied. "Let's see now… last trainin' I was takin' it easy on ya. This time? I ain't. "
"That… explained nothing." Callum and Lung stood motionless, giant sweat drops rolling down their faces, eyes shadowed like they'd just witnessed a crime against common sense.
"Oh, I see!" Wyatt exclaimed, smacking a fist into his open palm like he'd just solved the secret to the universe—despite very obviously not understanding a damn thing.
"He understood?!" Lung and Callum screamed, eyes bugging out and mouths gaping wide enough to catch flies. Somewhere in the distance, a dramatic wind blew for no reason at all.
"Right then—basically, we'll be workin' on three things. " Craven said, holding up three fingers.
"First—yer weapons. Second—real fightin', hand to hand. Third—Talent control."
He ticked off each finger, voice sharp as steel.
"I thought I already learnt how to fight?" Wyatt questioned.
"'Course not, ya dolt," Craven grunted.
"Then what were all those brutal training and sparring sessions for?" Wyatt could feel a headache coming.
"That were basically yer intro into learnin' how to scrap," Craven said with a grin.
Wyatt sighed and rubbed his temples. All that brutal training was for introduction into training? What had he gotten himself into.
"And the Talent thing?" Wyatt asked. The more he dwelled on the fighting thing the more his head hurt, so it was better to change the subject. "We tried that before, it didn't work."
"Yeah, but this time we'll have Bob and Randy teach ya what they know." Craven replied.
"Why didn't we do that before?" a vein was now visible in Wyatt's head. He had gone through a lot of near death situations when Craven was teaching him how to use his Talent.
One time Craven had him go tell Candy she was short for an eighteen-year-old. He barely made it out alive that day.
"'Cause I figured fear'd be the best way to unlock yer Talent. Clearly don't work fer everyone," Craven lied through his teeth. The look in Wyatt's eyes made him too afraid to admit that the idea completely skipped his mind.
"Okay, whatever. So what do we start with?" Wyatt felt like he might punch Craven in the face if he kept talking.
"Glad ya asked," Craven beamed. "Teachin' ya hand-to-hand or Talent stuff ain't my department. But dual weapons? That's me specialty." He puffed out his chest.
Wyatt was a bit skeptical. He had never really seen Craven in action—only drinking booze and training the kids. The only time he could have seen him fight was when Craven came to save him and Tai from Chuck and his goons, and even then, he'd passed out before anything good happened.
"When it comes to weapons, ya gotta learn two things " Craven raised two of his fingers this time. He seemed to enjoy doing that whenever he explained things. "First, how to activate yer Deviant gear. Second, how to fight with it."
"Activate?" Wyatt raised a brow.
"Y'know, with Chi." Craven replied, like it should've been the most obvious thing in the world.
"Chi?" Wyatt's brow rose further
"What d'you even know about Deviant gear?" Craven was almost too afraid to ask.
"Well, they come from Deviants." Wyatt stated the obvious.
"And?"
"And what?" Wyatt was confused. "There's more?"
Craven slapped his forehead. It was his own fault for assuming this young fool understood anything about weapons or fighting in general.
Craven cleared his throat, then he began to explain.
"Aye, Deviant gear comes from beasts, that's right. But usin' 'em ain't just swingin' an' prayin' it works," Craven paused, wanting to make sure that Wyatt was following.
"Deviant weapons gotta be activated if ya want the real power outta 'em. And what do ya need to do that?" Craven asked with a raised brow.
Wyatt frowned. If he knew the answer then Craven wouldn't have needed to explain.
"Chi," Craven grunted, looking like Wyatt just slapped his drink out of his hand.
"How was I supposed to know, I can't read minds." Wyatt scoffed.
"I just said it seconds ago, ya cabbage-head!" Craven barked.
"When ya use Chi to activate yer weapon it gives ya a boost in physical attributes. Some weapons even have special abilities, although it's mostly among higher grade weapons." Craven continued.
"Special abilities?" Wyatt's eyes sparkled. "That's so cool! What do my daggers do?"
Craven frowned at the interruption.
"Sorry." Wyatt piped down.
"There are eight grades of Deviant beasts as well as Deviant gears." Craven continued, ignoring Wyatt's earlier question.
"Basic, intermediate, advanced, king, emperor, legendary, demi-god and demon grade deviant gear. With each jump in grade there's a definite jump in strength."
Wyatt was beginning to understand a bit more now.
"So, what grade is my weapon?" Wyatt asked as he examined the daggers in his hands. "They look really good so maybe as high as yours, or higher."
Immediately the words left Wyatt's mouth, Craven, Lung and Callum all burst out laughing. Lung was even rolling on the floor.
'What's so funny?' Wyatt thought with a frown.
"Ya crack me up, kid."Craven said in between peal of laughter. "As high as mine." He murmured with a chuckle.
"Craven uses Legendary grade weapons, Those daggers are intermediate level at best." Callum explained while stifling a laugh.
"Craven could flatten a whole town with those axes, you can barely kill a basic grade deviants with those kitchen knives." Lung blurted out.
Seeing the sad expression on Wyatt's face, Craven tried to cheer him up.
"Don't worry, kid. Ya can get better gear later. It ain't set in stone," Craven said, patting his back.
"Highly doubt it." Callum spoke up. "Deviant weapons cost an arm and a leg, and those are just for the first four grades." Craven shot him a dirty glare.
Looking back at Wyatt, Craven saw that he was bent over on the floor, using the tip of one of his daggers to dig the ground. "Stupid daggers... stupid Craven... stupid everything…" Wyatt grumbled as he gouged petty trenches into the dirt
It took Craven a good while to cheer Wyatt up a bit, by that time Lung and Callum had finished their routines and had gone inside.
"Fine, so what are we doing?" Wyatt asked, still a little downcast.
"First thing's first—we gotta get ya learnin' how to activate 'em. Real simple stuff. Even you can manage it," Craven said, trying to sound upbeat.
Wyatt readied his two daggers, this training wouldn't be easy but he wasn't going to give up.
…..
In another part of Nirei town, two middle aged men were doing cutting trees in the valley close to the town.
They were swinging their axes with vigor one at a time, slowly hacking the tree at it's base.
"Phew!" one of the men huffed as he cleaned the sweat of his face. "This sure is hard work."
"Quit complaining and get back to work, Phil." The other man said as he continued to swing his axe. He had a better build than his friend, Phil.
"I will, I will. I'm just saying we ain't machines, Pete. We're humans and the Vipers would do well to remember that." Phil said as he dramatically dropped to the floor to rest.
"You know the agreement." Pete stated, still hacking the tree while his lazy friend rested. "We couldn't pay the fee requested in full, so the next best thing we can offer is natural resources."
"What kind of factions charges a protection fee that the people they protect can't pay! That's dumb if you ask me." Phil complained some more.
"They protect us from stray deviants and we pay them for their services. It's as simple as that." Pete continued to work, ignoring his friend's laziness.
"If you ask me, Craven has done more than they have and he doesn't ask for anything." Phil rambled on.
Pete remained silent, just doing his work until he finally cut down the tree.
Phil came over to help since his friend couldn't carry the large log alone. They both hoisted one end of the log on their shoulder, with Pete in front and Phil behind.
"Oof, this is heavy." Pete complained.
"yeah." Phil replied as he began to walk forward, Phil followed as well.
"Why do we have to do this? We are humans not machines...." Phil continued his ramble as they both made their way home.
Not very far from where they were working, two glowing red eyes could be seen slightly. It's gaze fixated on the two people who were leaving.
As it took a step forward, stepping out of the shadows, it's heavy dark fur and large deadly maw could now clearly be seen.
It was a giant black furred wolf that stood on two legs.
"Hu...Hu....man." It moved it's mouth, but the words came out distorted, rough and very deep. It was clear this creature wasn't used to speaking.
"We...are...Humans."