Shattered Sanity

That night, after another short duration of sleep, Riven and the other children managed to recover a small portion of their strength before the next morning arrived, marking the true beginning of the next Chapter of their lives.

Roughly one hour before sunrise, Garron had everyone packed and ready to march, as while the world around them still lay buried beneath darkness, the group had already resumed its journey toward the Valdrak Empire.

Since the moonlight alone was not enough to illuminate the narrow forest trails, every few children were given makeshift hand torches fashioned from sturdy branches wrapped in dried bushes and resin, as beneath the flickering orange flames, the long procession quietly advanced through the wilderness until the first rays of dawn finally appeared above the horizon, allowing the torches to be discarded before the march continued beneath the morning light.

From that point onward, Garron drove the group relentlessly across the wilderness from dawn until dusk, as aside from a handful of brief five-minute breaks to distribute dried meat and drink some water, the children rarely stopped moving before the order to continue marching was given once more.

For many of them, simply keeping pace with the relentless march was already difficult enough, however Garron had never intended for walking alone to become their only form of training.

Every so often, he would call a different group of children toward the front before placing crude axes and machetes into their hands, ordering them to hack away shrubs, thorny bushes, hanging branches, and young trees growing along the sides of the trail, as although much of the path was already perfectly passable, he nevertheless forced them to clear it at a rapid pace before rotating another group forward only minutes later.

By the time evening finally arrived, nearly every child had developed blisters across their hands while their shoulders, backs, and legs ached so badly that many could barely remain standing, however even then, Garron refused to let anyone rest immediately.

Instead, responsibilities were assigned throughout the camp the moment they arrived.

Some children were ordered to gather timber before nightfall so that a proper campfire could be maintained throughout the night, while others were sent into the nearby woods under supervision to gather edible berries, mushrooms, and whatever food they could safely identify, as another small group was assigned to stand watch while everyone else recovered.

Only after every responsibility had been completed did Garron finally gather the children together once more.

”Sit down.”

Garron instructed, as every exhausted child immediately obeyed despite many of them struggling to remain upright.

”Tonight, every one of you will meditate and replenish your Aether before going to sleep.”

He explained, as his expression remained just as cold as ever.

”Tomorrow, walking will no longer be enough. We’ll begin jogging for large portions of the day, and from tomorrow onwards, you’ll be expected to circulate Aether throughout your bodies in order to keep pace with the group.”

He continued, as several weary faces immediately grew even paler.

”If you wake up tomorrow with half-empty reserves because you were too lazy to meditate tonight, then that’s your own problem.”

Garron said, as not a single child dared interrupt him.

”And if you fall too far behind during tomorrow’s march, don’t expect me to slow the entire group down for your sake.”

He warned, while his gaze slowly swept across every face gathered around the campfire.

”Because.... I won’t.”

He stated bluntly.

”If you can’t keep up, then you’ll be left behind, and out here, being left behind is no different from receiving a death sentence.”

He warned, as the mood of the camp immediately dampened, as nobody took his words lightly and understood that Garron was actually capable of delivering on that threat.

Hence, that night, most of them remained seated in meditation for somewhere between three and six hours, patiently circulating Aether through their Soul Vessels in the four corner method, until they felt their reserves recover sufficiently, as only then did they finally allow themselves to collapse onto their blankets for another few precious hours of sleep before, roughly one hour before dawn, Garron woke them once again and the entire relentless cycle began anew.

—------

(The next morning)

Just as Garron had promised, things only escalated from that point onwards, as beginning the very next morning, the slow marching pace that had already pushed the children close to their limits was completely abandoned in favor of long hours of relentless jogging that continued from dawn until dusk.

Unlike the previous day, where many of the children had still been able to conserve a portion of their Aether throughout the journey, the faster pace immediately forced everyone to circulate Aether continuously through their bodies just to avoid falling behind, as Garron deliberately maintained a speed that steadily drained their reserves until those with the smallest Soul Vessels exhausted themselves first and were forced to continue relying upon nothing but their physical strength.

The difference became obvious almost immediately, as one after another, the weaker children began slowing down while their breathing turned ragged and their legs grew increasingly heavy, however rather than reducing the pace for their sake, Garron merely adjusted it enough to ensure that nobody was permanently left behind while continuing to push every single child as close to their limits as he possibly could.

By the time they stopped each evening, countless children collapsed onto the ground before they had even been given permission to rest, as every muscle throughout their bodies screamed in protest while even the simple act of lifting a water canteen gradually began feeling like an exhausting task in itself.

However, even that proved to be only the beginning.

As the days continued passing, Garron steadily increased the difficulty of every exercise without giving the children any opportunity to grow comfortable with a particular routine, as one day the group would spend hours climbing steep hillsides while carrying their full packs, the next they would scramble across uneven rocky slopes that threatened to send them tumbling with every careless step, while on another they were forced to wade through waist-deep swamps where every stride felt as though the earth itself was trying to drag them beneath the mud.

No two days ever felt the same, because every morning brought a new challenge that left the children wondering what fresh torment awaited them next, as regardless of how exhausted they became, Garron always seemed capable of finding another way to push them even harder than before.

By the time a week and a half had passed, the children had changed so completely that many of them found themselves struggling to remember what life inside Ashfang Village had even felt like, as although they had once believed slavery to be the cruelest existence imaginable, the relentless routine of a soldier gradually taught them otherwise, until even Riven found himself quietly realizing that compared to the life Garron was forcing them to endure, the hardships of living beneath Hagrid’s roof almost seemed merciful by comparison.