The Last Primal

Lily focused on one of the lance wielders, a woman with a medium-sized light brown, chestnut-colored hair tied to a ponytail behind her back, standing behind a bald, average-built sword-and-board warrior. They were working in tandem, trying to somehow overcome this rabid predator, the growling muscle-bound war hound, Sam.

At the same time, next to them a similar-looking duo was trying the same with the second hound whose jaws were clasping with a frightening passion. It was clear that neither of the canines was holding back. After all, for them, the concept of \'mock\' battles, training were unknown. Their only goal was to protect their miss\'s healthy smile.

Contesting against two rabid, savage creatures was already testing the limits of the mercenaries, but unfortunately for them, the two calm girls in the back weren\'t only there to chill and relax either.

In Lily\'s hands, the bow her master and her Granny gifted her was constantly stretched to its limits, whilst the quiver on her back was losing its weight at a rapid weight. Arrow after arrow was released, letting them whistle in the air, sailing the meager distance between them and the Silver Howl\'s only to be parried or blocked by the tip of the lance or the body of a shield. 

At the same time, Galina was drawing runes with a gradually growing speed, completing spells one after another without any care of her plunging [Soul Power] reserves, and her constantly taxed stamina. Each spell cast, each rune completed shot towards one of the frontline four-legged friends of theirs only to either enhance the muscles in their bodies, to restore their stamina or their vitalities, keeping them at their maximum potential all the time.

As for the mercenaries, their situation wasn\'t too bright, they have all understood their desperate situation long ago. It was clear that unless they did found a way, did something unexpected, the end, the outcome of their fight was long since decided.

Unfortunately, their minds and bodies were fully occupied by just keeping these hounds, these illusionary gatekeepers protecting the gates of despair at bay, lest they would rip their throats apart.

The standstill in all the fronts kept the battlefield in a tense cloud. Whilst Don was showing a growing frown as he spectated the clashes, the young man, Aiden next to him was as calm as ever, showing no signs of worry. To him, the outcome of this mock battle was already decided, he already made notes of all the members of the Silver Howl mercenary group about their skills, mindset, attitude, and usefulness to their cause.

On the left side, closest to them, the situation was slowly, but surely coming to the long since known conclusion, as the warrior under the intense care of the blond amazon was now down on his knees trying his best to use his already numb arms to absorb blow after blow, strike after strike. His face was contorted into a perpetual ugly, strained groan, his face was full of large, fat beads of sweat, his breathing was chaotic, barely showing any signs of the usual control that would be expected of a fighter with his skill.

Seeing the man\'s rough state, Captain Don suddenly found himself in a dilemma. Should he step in, and end their fight and pull out his men? However, that would mean he would trample upon a proud warrior\'s pride and forcefully concede for him. Wouldn\'t that cause even more damage to him in the long run? Still, knowing the goal of setting up this grand melee, and the dangers they need to face later once they cross the portal… should he allow this to continue?

He couldn\'t help but look at the young master standing next to him, trying to glean some information out of him. 

Unfortunately, as he gazed over him, he only saw the same calm, nonchalant, easy-going attitude of his. He looked completely unperturbed of the situation, not worried of it escalating beyond its controllable limits. 

Not sure what to make of this, in the end, Don couldn\'t help but ask with hushed whispers.

"Young Master… I apologize if I may sound rude, but… shouldn\'t you be worried? Shouldn\'t we stop the fight between these two?" He asked nudging with his head towards the amazon and the poor sod\'s sorry state of display closest to them.

Aiden merely smiled as he listened to the captain\'s anxious tone. He could hear the concern, the worry in his tone, hear the chaotic thumps in his chest as he continued to be forced into passivity, he could understand the reasoning behind his question.

He smiled, keeping his gaze on his blond wild tiger, enjoying the all-too-familiar grin that stretched across her face as she hacked down with her ax once again, responding slowly, with a collected, cool tone of voice.

"Do not worry captain, no one will suffer any permanent injuries." He said, giving a momentary pause before continuing. "You need to give them all the same opportunity to grow, and not hold them back." Turning his head towards the mansion, he looked at the large window frame overlooking the city and at the same time, the training field. 

As if he could see through the painted glass, he smirked at the masked figure behind it, as he continued. 

"You shouldn\'t worry. Though you are not fully aware, you should have already understood the true power of your real employer. She is not someone that would allow any mistakes to come into her carefully concocted plans. Every piece on the chessboard still has a use, so you can rest assured that nobody will be harmed as long as she doesn\'t will for it."

Captain Don was shocked at the boy\'s words and even frightened at his uncanny, sharp insight. Although it wasn\'t that overly difficult to guess that the elegantly dressed Master Sebas was only the messenger, the face of someone hiding in the shadows, still from the boy\'s words, it seemed that he was aware of the identity, the true power.

Don was suddenly alarmed at this revelation, not sure about the meaning behind it. Could he be an agent under the employ of this person? Were he and this team of hidden monsters deliberately placed here to monitor them and make sure of their stance?

However, on second thought he dismissed the idea. What would be the point? They are mercenaries, they fight for the money. Their fame is all they have, if they were to betray their employer and ruin such an illustrious contract, they knew that they would only harm themselves and ruin their future. 

Unlike soldiers, guards, or even adventurer groups that were oftentimes hired, Mercenary Corps were known for the unwritten rule of their loyalties to their contracts until the end. No sane corps would willingly go against their employers once they accepted a job and signed the contract.

Just as he was deep in his thoughts, thinking about the meanings behind the young master\'s words, a gurgling, guttural cry broke him from his reverie…

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