A Bond Broken: The Infinite World Book Two

by J. T. Wright

  **********

  Trent had known the Sergeant’s words meant trouble. The man kept Tersa and Trent running throughout the night. They were only allowed to rest twice and then only long enough to scarf down bread, some dried meat, and a handful of fruit. If it wasn’t for Trent’s Endurance Attribute and Tersa’s high Constitution, along with two Stamina potions for each of them, they would never have been able to maintain the pace Cullen demanded.

  They ran until sunset the next day. After consuming yet another meal of dried rations, the two told themselves they were prepared to keep going. The relief they felt when Cullen told them to sleep gave lie to their silent assurances. When Cullen added that he would stand guard, and all they had to do was rest, Trent and Tersa were sure they had misjudged the Sergeant. Surely, there was no kinder man who had ever lived.

  They collapsed to the ground and were asleep within seconds. After weeks of snatching rest whenever they could in the Land of the Undying Lord, the soft grass and cool earth were as comfortable as a feather bed. They didn’t even mind the lack of a blanket. They should have known better.

  When Cullen ordered them to their feet for morning exercises, the sun was still hours from rising. Cullen intended that they would greet the sun as sweat and bruise covered messes. It started with an hour of standard physical exercise and then sparring, lots and lots of sparring.

  That first day, Trent, armed with a wooden sword, was the uncontested victor of their mock battle. In the dark, with his mask and its Dark Vision, Trent held every advantage. Cullen had provided Tersa with a dull-tipped training spear and ignored her pleas for a mace or hammer. He would not let her use the weapons of a Brute.

  With Dodge and Dash, his Swordsman Class, and Dark Vision, Trent danced around Tersa. He struck at will and faded away before Tersa could respond. At least, before she could respond physically. Her spear never touched him, but Tersa’s constant questioning of his paternity, and curses, that his face looked like a butt, stung his ears. After sparring, it was back to running.

  Cullen said their destination was seven days away. However, the Sergeant was confident they could make it in five. Cullen pointed the direction, and Trent led the way, bow in hand. It was a lonely, boring position. There was no need to Scout with Cullen around.

  They encountered no Beasts. Trent didn’t even spot any common animals though he looked for them. The Sergeant said they could have a hot meal if they provided the meat, but no prey ever presented itself despite Trent’s wide-eyed search.

  Always out in front, Trent kept himself occupied by practicing his Skills. Dash and Tracking saw significant gains. Dash went up two Levels and provided Trent with a point in Agility. One more Level and Dash would reach 10. Cullen said there was the possibility of something good happening then but refused to elaborate.

  When Tracking leveled up, Trent didn’t earn any Attribute points, but it did open up a whole new world to the Survivalist. Tracking had only been of limited use in the Trial, but while traversing the rolling hills, Trent learned its real value. Beasts and animals refused to show themselves, but Trent was able to spot the signs of their passing. Trails were exposed, and squashed vegetation was revealed to be their beds. The Skill even identified the names of the animals that scuffed earth and left tiny imprints in the soil. Trent was a little surprised his Intelligence Attribute didn’t increase given how much he was learning.

  On the second day of sparring, Trent lost his advantage over Tersa. Tersa had adapted to her spear and to the inhibitions the darkness imposed on her. The looming threat of being cast from the Guard motivated the girl like nothing had before. She threw herself into training, and Trent could only suffer.

  He was forced back constantly, and his wooden blade never touched the redheaded Recruit. Tersa’s spear darted and swept, dictating the pace of the match. When Trent received a blow that sent him staggering, he was forced to summon his shield from his ring. That was when Trent’s frustration peaked!

  He was a Swordsman, and a Survivalist, and his Agility was higher than Tersa's. He might not be able to overpower her, but he should be faster! Cullen had forbidden the use of Dodge and Dash, which Trent thought was fair, but even so, it was embarrassing that he couldn’t keep up.

  The problem was his swordplay. His feet were never in the right position. His sword was never quiet in line. Visions of Orion sweeping through a squad of Orcs as easily as strolling through a field of flowers filled his thoughts. If only he could use the Technique, Ocean Meets the Shore, the way the Al’rashian Spirit Summoner had!

  Trent was a Swordsman. He should have a Technique. Swordsman was a Specialization of the Warrior Class, and Trent had plenty of attack Skills, but no Technique. The only enhancing Skill he had was Basic Longsword. It increased his attack rating, and a sword felt natural in his hand, but Ocean Meets the Shore did that as well and it…

  The sun peaking over the horizon provided enough light to see by, but its glow was nowhere near as bright as the one that lit up Trent’s face.

  “It’s a Technique!”

  Tersa, in the middle of a lunge that would have sent Trent spinning to the ground, stumbled at his exclamation. Was the stupid jerkface taking a page out of her book? Had he finally understood the importance of a good war cry? It was about time. He still didn’t have it right, though. “It’s a Technique!” was weak. Personally, Tersa preferred “Suck mace!” or “Bloody piss and ash!”

  Tersa never got the chance to tell Trent that he needed to strengthen his distracting shouts. She also didn’t recover from her lunge. Suddenly, Trent was flowing forward, feet, hands, and body in perfect harmony. His blade cut through the air, and it was Tersa who found herself on the defensive side of their match.

  His movements and attacks were still the basic cuts, slashes, and thrusts that Tersa herself had studied, but she wasn’t able to anticipate them anymore. Trent was like a new person, grinning behind his mask as he pressed forward. He still couldn’t hit her, but he had seized the fight’s momentum and wasn’t letting up.

  “You finally figured it out, huh, Runt,” Cullen never spoke much during these sparring sessions. He preferred to observe silently while smoking his pipe. He saved his critiques and comments for later when Recruits were nursing their bruises.

  At the Sergeant’s words, Trent broke off his attack. Tersa scowled at her friend as he lifted his mask and wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve. With a ‘harrumph,’ Tersa cast the Self-Clean Charm to banish her own sweat. To Tersa’s annoyance, Trent didn’t even notice her demonstration of proper etiquette. Trent was looking at Cullen. His head was bowed slightly, and his grin drooped a bit in embarrassment.

  “It’s pretty obvious, once you think about it.” He dug at the soil with his toe. He didn’t know how he had missed it. He glanced at the sword he still held unsheathed. It spoke to him now in a way it had probably been trying to, ever since he learned Basic Longsword.

  “It is,” Cullen agreed, “but most Recruits are too busy fighting themselves to realize it. You picked it up faster than most, which makes you less pathetic. You’re still too slow and stupid, but there might be hope for you.”

  Now Tersa was pissed. That was very nearly a compliment, and the Sergeant never had compliments for anyone! He had certainly never said anything half so nice to her. “What are you two talking about?” Tersa tilted her head back and leaned her spear against her shoulder, assuming a stance that she thought made her look dashing. She tried to cover the sullenness in her voice.

  “Basic Longsword!” Trent explained excitedly. “It’s not a Skill, well, it is a Skill, but it’s also a Technique. Does this mean all the basic combat Skills are really Techniques?”

  Trent’s mind nearly exploded. Unarmed Combat, Basic Small Blades, even Basic Shield, he hadn’t really understood them at all. They did far more than just enhance your compatibility and comfort with the basics of a weapon. You had to put the individual movements and attacks together! The pattern was right there in the
Skill if you let it come out!

  “I don’t think that’s right.” Forgetting about her spear, Tersa fumbled the weapon, and it fell to the ground as she reached up to scratch her head.

  “Piss!” she shouted. She bent and retrieved her weapon. “Basic Skills just… What are Techniques anyway?”

  “That's what I like about you, Recruit Tersa. You are consistent. You never fail to disappoint!” Cullen said scathingly. “You also never listen! Techniques are something that all Recruits are told about during their first week of training. Just like they are told not to invest too heavily in Constitution!”

  While Tersa absorbed this blow, Cullen turned on Trent. Thinking Tersa was about to get a serious dressing down and lecture, Trent had started absently practicing with his sword. This was a mistake; Cullen expected everyone to listen carefully when he spoke.

  “It seems you don’t want to pay attention either, Runt. That’s fine, that’s just fine. I think another hour of sparring is in order. Unarmed. I will enlighten the both of you about Techniques while you practice. I suggest you pay attention, there will be questions afterward.”

  Chapter 5

  It was two hours of continuous sparring before Cullen finally allowed them to stop. Two miserable hours for Trent. He had a better grasp on Techniques and more Stamina than Tersa, but Tersa still had higher Constitution and Strength. With her newfound attention to detail, she learned quickly from Cullen’s instructions. Once she had grasped the idea of Techniques, her higher Level in Unarmed Combat allowed her to pummel Trent with ease.

  Tersa gloated happily as Trent checked himself for broken bones. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that his Unarmed Combat Skill had risen to Level 2, but it didn’t bring him much satisfaction.

  “Recruit Tersa, as a reward for making the Runt cry, I will allow the two of you a hot meal.” Trent winced. His fingers had found a tender spot on his ribs, but it was the Sergeant’s words that prompted his reaction. He had not cried!

  “However,” Cullen added as Tersa straightened up with excitement. “You will find the wood and build the fire. If you can’t find firewood, it’s dried rations.”

  Tersa scampered away before Cullen had finished speaking. Trent forgot his bruises as he stared at Cullen suspiciously. They had removed their armor earlier in order to experience the full effect of a well-delivered punch. Tersa, dreaming of roasted meat, had left the Sergeant’s presence without putting her chainmail back on or picking up her spear.

  As she disappeared over a hill, Trent waited for the inevitable explosion of curses. When it didn’t come, Trent’s suspicion grew. There would be no hot meal.

  Trees were scarce in the grasslands. If Cullen wanted a fire, he would have taken wood from his Storage. The only reason to send Tersa looking for fire building materials was that Cullen had something to say that he didn’t want the girl to hear.

  “You’re a mess, Runt. You’re faster than the Idiot, and you have more HP. There’s no reason you should be this beat up.” Cullen reached out and poked a bruise that was forming on Trent’s cheek. “Why haven’t you invested any points in Constitution?”

  “You said not to, Sergeant! You said…” Trent was astonished and defensive. Cullen’s tone had been accusatory, but Trent hadn’t done anything wrong!

  Cullen waved away Trent’s explanation with a sigh. “I thought so. You know what your problem is, Trent? You listen too well. It’s completely beyond my fucking comprehension! Not once in over thirty years of training Recruits, not once have I had one that listened to everything I had to say. A few days ago, Tersa accused me of lying. She’s forgotten about it, but she was right. I am a liar! I lie all the time, and I'm happy to do so! Do you know why?”

  Trent’s mouth opened and closed twice, but he said nothing. Cullen was being fairly mild at the moment, but he was sure the Sergeant’s mood would change quickly if Trent said, “Because it’s fun?”

  “I lie for two reasons,” Cullen continued. “The first is because some information is dangerous. Your friend, Orion couldn’t know when he told you, but what he said about Leveling and Classes, while true, could very easily get you killed or enslaved.”

  That caught Trent’s attention. Killed or enslaved? By whom? And why? Cullen had never addressed Tersa’s accusations. Trent was sure the reason he had been running them so hard was to keep Tersa from remembering why she had nearly been thrown out of the Guard in the first place. To stop Tersa from thinking about everything they had learned from Orion.

  “The second reason I lie is because Recruits never listen. I say, ‘don’t invest in Constitution,’ and yet every Recruit ends up dumping points into that Attribute anyway. The first time they get a little banged up, the first time they discover that fighting hurts, their Constitution suddenly starts skyrocketing!

  “When I first started training the Guard, I told Recruits it was okay to put a point or two in Constitution every few Levels. They took that to mean all their Attribute points should go to Constitution at every level up. When I started telling them it was a useless Attribute, low and behold, they suddenly started to do what I wanted them to.

  “You are the first trainee who has ever done exactly what I told him to. How you survived that Trial, I will never know! Your Endurance Attribute increases your Stamina and Health, but it does nothing for your resistances. If you had a few more points in Constitution, Tersa wouldn’t be able to… she would still toss you around, but at least you would be able to stand up straight afterward. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

  Trent nodded slowly. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but he still made a mistake. He hadn’t spent the points he had been awarded in the Trial. He hadn’t been able to decide how to spend them. Now he put them all into Constitution.

  He brought up his Status to examine the results.

  Name: Trent

  Age: 12

  Race: Al’rashian

  Level: 8

  Class: Survivalist Level 2

  Class: Swordsman Level 6

  Profession: None

  Health: 495

  Stamina: 495

  Mana: 130

  Strength: 17

  Agility: 22

  Dexterity: 21

  Constitution: 11

  Endurance: 3

  Intelligence: 13

  Wisdom: 9

  Free Attribute Points: 0

  Free skill points: 5

  He was pleased by what he saw. He had come a long way in a short amount of time. There were still places he needed to improve. His Mana was still low. Enough for his Charms and Abilities, but if he ever learned a higher tier Spell, he doubted he would be able to cast it.

  “You picked a good Class,” Cullen agreed with Trent’s evaluation of his Status. “I've never seen a Rogue Class that gave bonuses to Health and Stamina before. They are normally sneaky backstabbers, but your Survivalist Class…“

  Cullen was stumped by the Survivalist class. Advanced Classes were all hybrids of the basic Classes, but even Rangers, the most common Warrior-Rogue combination, didn’t boast the kind of Health and Stamina that Survivalists did. Cullen was at a loss for how to train the Class.

  “We’ve given the Idiot enough time. If I let her, she’ll be looking for firewood all day. We have a lot of ground to cover.” Cullen handed Trent the dried rations that Trent had known breakfast would consist of. He chewed the mostly tasteless food and tried not to think about how good a hot meal would have been.

  Eating the rations quickly and washing them down with a long swallow of water, Trent moved to put Tersa’s equipment in his Storage. Cullen stopped him.

  “You leave all of that right where it is! She has been doing better. Let’s see how many miles it takes before she realizes just how badly she’s pissed me off.”

  **********

  On a hilltop a few miles away, Ranar observed the trio’s morning training with interest. Trent had talent, and Cullen was bringing it out of him. He would grow even faster if not for the er
ratic nature of the training Cullen put him through. The Sergeant had to know that. All this constant running would toughen the boy up to some degree, but it was hardly the most efficient training.

  Ranar was sure that the running wasn’t part of the training at all. Cullen had a destination in mind, and wherever that destination was, that was where the real work would begin. Ranar just wished he knew where they were headed.

  Ranar had caught up to the three on the first night, but he kept his distance. If Ranar got too close, Cullen started twitching and reaching for his weapons. Ranar was impressed. With his power suppressed, Ranar should have been able to walk directly behind the man without him knowing Ranar was there. Darak had said the Sergeant was good. He was right.

  Not that Ranar couldn’t get around that. He had the Skills and Abilities to influence even someone of Cullen's Level, but the timing had to be right. He couldn’t just walk into their camp and start arranging things to his liking. The circumstances had to seem natural, or he would make Cullen, not to mention Trent, suspicious, even if his own Level was masked.

  There was no reason to force things. Overall, Ranar approved of Cullen’s training methods. He would have done things differently if he had been in the Sergeant’s place, but then, he knew more about training Survivalists. The frustrating thing for Ranar was that Cullen wasn’t training a Survivalist. He was training a Swordsman, and for some reason, he forced Trent to carry that short bow around everywhere.

  It was an understandable mistake. At a glance, the first Skills a Survivalist learned could lead one to think that they were a Hunter or a Scout Class; those types always carried a bow. Without knowing the history behind the Class, you'd never suspect that bows were the last weapon Survivalists learned.