“What the hell is going on in here?!!” The door slammed open to reveal a man in black armor. The word ‘Justice’ was engraved in gold letters on his breastplate. Brown hair and brown eyes decorated the head of a man so hated by Servi that she barely kept herself from lashing out. But she knew of the consequences if she lost to her anger. So she did the next best thing: trusting Itarr with it.  

Please, let me take care of your anger. Do your best to stay calm, and don’t worry, we can kill that bastard later. Please, trust me.  

“You realize this is a fucking waiting room and not a goddamn zoo?!” Fisher stomped his feet and smacked the door. 

“Sorry about that. I wanted to try to lift that shield.” Servi said in her most pleasant voice. Not a hint of hatred or anger showed through, though those emotions erupted and roared behind her pretty, smiling face. But she didn’t have to worry about them coming out because her faithful friend dealt with them.

“There’s a time and place for that shit, and it—Wait… Why is a woman here? Everyone knows they can’t be a tank!” 

“I’m here to disprove that. I’m the tank for my group,” Servi stepped close to Fisher and closed the distance between the two. “Estela chose you as my mentor.” 

“Hmm… Estela made a mistake. Leave. The rest of you come with me.” 

“I’m not leaving. Estela picked me to come here, and I’m staying.” 

“If you stay, the training would be worse than death. For talking back to me, it’ll be even worse. You’d wish you be dead. In fact, tell me, and I’ll slit your fucking throat myself!” Fisher reached behind his waist and pulled out a dagger. Both handle and blade were blacker than night, and blue energy pulsed throughout it. Holding it to his neck, he made a motion of slitting his own throat before pointing to Servi. Through her peripheral vision, she saw the two Dwarves and both Koena jitter slightly. Servi and Feral were the only ones to stay still.

Nadrium? It seems that our target has quite an expensive blade to toy around with.  

“I can deal with it.” 

“I'll hold you to that. Now, all you maggots, get your shit and follow me.” Sheathing the knife, Fisher smashed the door with hands, creating a sudden and loud sound. Picking up his large tower shield, Feral was the last to leave. The order went Rakkire, Silverado, Desperado, Riki, Servi, and then the Kobold.  

“Get into two lines, three deep. Follow close and don’t open your worthless mouths!” Fisher barked. They were in the hallway that led to the waiting room, which meant they were close to the lobby. But not wanting to anger him anymore, the six new mentees quickly got into his desired formation.

“Follow me!” Fisher stomped his foot down and began to march. Going back to the lobby, he began to walk down the hallways. The six followed along, and none of them knew where they were marching off to. Then, with no warning at all, the pissed-off Captain began explaining the origins of his nickname.  

“They call me the Justice Captain because of my beliefs and love for the concept of ‘justice.’ You see, I don’t dare to allow anyone to belittle my Justice. Not even the Gods Above can do that. All I do is for justice, and justice is what I do. Ten years ago, I was part of a battle, my first fight... I dispensed so much justice to the foul monsters that dared to attack me it wasn’t even funny. Their blood was the nourishment for the soil. And I was only 14 at the time. Now I’m 30 and already Captain of the Guard. I am responsible for protecting the people of this city with my own blend of justice.”

How disgusting…. He’s even worse than I thought. His ‘justice’ is torturing poor slaves.

Servi and Itarr were the only ones who felt this way, and they were the only ones who had a look of such disgust plastered on their faces. But even the Dwarves and Koena and the lone Kobold listened and perched onto every word the mad man spoke. It reminded Servi of the time, where minutes after the attack on the slave markets and Parrel’s mansion, she went to walk around the town. There, she eavesdropped on a Dwarf who wished he had the cash saved up to buy a slave. Servi couldn’t fathom that a member of one of the oppressed races would be so willing to participate in the slave trade.  

Maybe that was the norm. Maybe Servi, as someone who had no memories, saw everything from a non-bias perspective.  

Slavery was almost as common as air and water, but that didn’t mean it was right. And the few people who could see that, Servi, Momo, and the rest of the fighters who risked their lives to liberate the three markets, were in the very, very small minority. And in this situation, Servi was the only one of the seven to feel that way.   

But what if the people around Servi were so desensitized to slavery that they accepted it as part of life?

Suddenly, the Justice Captain stopped and turned around.  His brown eyes scanned over the six mentees, and he stopped when they came to Servi.  He glanced up and down, taking in her armor.  Servi matched his gaze and stared back.

Stomping again, Fisher turned around and resumed marching. By now, Servi and the rest had followed Fisher up and downstairs, in and out of rooms that were both big and small, and she was getting mentally exhausted. She didn’t know how much more of his preaching she could take without snapping, even though Itarr was doing her best to keep her stable and calm.

A few minutes later, he suddenly stopped in front of a set of brown double doors.  He ordered the six mentees to introduce themselves, and they did.

“Behold maggots! This is where we will do the majority of our training!!” Fisher yelled. He pushed open the twin set of brown double doors and walked inside. The six mentees followed him.  

It was a large room. Very large, in fact. But it couldn’t be called a room. It was a field, and Servi could see the skies above, but they were blocked by a glass roof. The walls were all white and somehow sparkly clean.  

“Maggots! This is my domain. Governor Blasé may rule out there but in here? I’m the king. I’m the master, the governor, the president, and even the God of this field.” 

As Fisher rambled on about stuff Servi didn't care about, she looked at the area in front of her that would soon become familiar. It was a large rectangular patch of grass, at least a couple hundreds of meters long and wide, but a concrete circle with ten white lines painted into it surrounded it.

It was a track and field facility.  

Wait, track and….field? Servi asked herself in her mind.  

On the grassy field sat a wide variety of metal equipment that was sure to be used with training. Swords and shields and lances and all kinds of weapons could be seen, but that was to be expected. What Servi didn’t expect to see was a set of circular weights in the distance. They started off at 1kg and incrementally increased until they topped out at 100 kilograms.

Is this a field for people to run? Servi questioned. It reminded her of something, and it felt like a memory was on the tip of her tongue, But try as she might, she couldn’t get past the last hurdle to remember.  

“And that’s all for the explanation. Maggots, run over to the weapons you see in that field, grab one, and run back here!!! Go!!!” Fisher raised his hand and pointed to the middle of the field, and he once again stomped the floor.  

All at once, everyone sans Servi ran full blast towards the shelf of weapons that seemed so far away in the grassy area. Though she got a late start by a few seconds, Servi effortlessly caught up to the sprinting group.  

“Are you seriously running with that?!!” Servi asked, stupefied by what she saw. Feral ran with the two-meter iron tower shield on his back. Even Servi couldn't lift it more than three centimeters, but Feral somehow had the strength to run with it.

“My body has grown strong by lifting my ancestral shield since I was small. I was the strongest Kobold in my village. That’s why I can run with it,” he replied in a much friendlier tone.  

I guess you really did get his respect. Itarr commented. Servi nodded in response. The distance to the weapons was longer than she thought, and the steady, rhythmic stomping of their feet soon went silent. They were no longer on concrete but on green grass. The grassy ground absorbed the noise, and even though Servi could run two or three times faster, she didn’t want to cause any sort of scene.  

“MAGGOTS! YOU’RE LATE!!!” Fisher roared from behind. He stayed where he was and didn’t bother running with them.  

I thought a mentor was supposed to be kind? Itarr asked. After Servi woke up, she told Itarr all she knew of mentors and how they were supposed to be strict and fair. She didn’t know how she knew that knowledge.  Like every other bit of general knowledge, it was something that remained within her brain.

Servi increased her speed just a little bit, much to the shock of the five she left behind, and soon, she reached the weapon shelf. She snatched a sword from the top shelf since she was most comfortable with it, and she started the journey back. As she passed by the Kobold, she heard him speak quickly and hastily.  

“Servi, perhaps there is more to you than what I thought...” Even if she wanted to respond, Servi was too far gone now. Glancing behind her, the other five had reached the shelf and were currently grabbing a weapon, so Servi slowed down her pace a tad bit.  

“As you said earlier, mentors are supposed to be kind. But this is Fisher Jin. The so-called ‘Justice Captain.’ The same man who beat Seka and Seko, and he probably has the blood of many others on his hands. He will not die painlessly, I assure you. But I do feel calm. Thank you, Itarr.” 

You are most welcome, my love. 

Servi blushed slightly. Yes, they loved each other, but it was the first time either of them called the other ‘my love.’ 

I sense something is wrong. Are you okay? The sudden redness that painted Servi’s white face went unnoticed by her beloved friend.

Still running and coming up on the concrete, Servi shook her head as her hair fought against the wind. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just really happy!” 

When it came to people and emotions, being loved was a core part of being alive. Of course, there would be scores and scores of people who swore that they would be fine living alone. They would declare that being loved, or not being loved, wouldn’t affect them in the slightest.  

That was a lie.  

A total lie.  

It was the furthest thing from the truth.  

The truth of the matter was this: if people didn’t get love from other people, they would get it from animals. Dogs, cats, even a spider or a snake, was fair game. They couldn’t speak the language of people, but they understood one thing: love. But if that wasn’t an option, the next thing people would try to get love from would be fictional beings, like someone who appeared in a novel or an imaginary friend that only exists in the believer's mind. In the end, love is love. There was nothing else to it.

Servi was the first to arrive back at Fisher. She didn’t know what to do, so she dropped her sword to the ground. The man in question eyed her and spoke. “You’re to tell me that you just ran hundreds of meters in that full armor and didn’t break a sweat?” 

“That’s right,” she replied with a smug grin.

“Bullshit. Go do it again!” Fisher ordered. Slamming his foot down, he pointed back to the shelves of weapons in the middle of the field.  

“But why? I did what you asked,” Servi whined back.  

“Don’t care. And don’t you dare talk back to me!”  

“I did what you said. I’m not doing it again.” That was Servi's stance. She held her ground and crossed her arms, locking eyes with her mortal enemy.

“Then ten laps around the field! Now! And nobody is allowed to go to the next step until you’re done!” 

Please, Servi, I don’t like him yelling at you. 

“Fine. Then count.” After having the last laugh, so to say, Servi spun on her heels and jogged over the 'track' part of the track and field.

Once she reached the concrete circle, she took off running. Her hair flowed behind her, and her ruby red eyes stared directly ahead.  

“I’m sorry, Itarr. I know I shouldn’t talk back to him, but he just makes me so mad.” 

I know. Fisher's making me mad, too. Do you wanna put on a show? Maybe go a bit faster? 

“I don’t know. But I gotta say, being able to run like this with the wind in my hair feels great!” 

Servi, I'm so glad you're happy!

And so, the lone girl with the black hair, red eyes, and evil-looking shield became very well acquainted with the circle. By the time she was done with lap 1, the other five were back at Fisher. He was yelling at them about something, but she didn’t care.  

By lap 3, Servi felt happy and good. She thought it was amazing that her body didn't need to sweat.

On lap 5, she saw Fisher looking irritated as he tossed his dagger down. Feral had his shield, if one could call it that, on the hot ground. He sat down, cross-legged, and became a witness to Servi’s incredible feat of five laps without slowing down.

By lap 9, the other four must have convinced Feral to allow them on his shield.  

They joined in with the cheering and hollering as they yelled out, “One more lap! One more lap!” 

“Those five don’t seem that bad, do they?” she asked her friend. She was coming up on the last turn before her task would be completed.

I don’t think so. Feral might be the one I’d keep my eye on, but he seems much nicer after you proved yourself. Speaking of which, why did you do that? 

“Maybe that’s a law or custom in his village. Like, if someone wants to enter, then maybe they have to prove themselves? As for why? I don’t really know. I've been feeling weird, and I guess I just suddenly felt like proving myself.” 

Hmm…. In that case, I say you passed.  

“I agree,” Servi replied. Her cute face still had no traces of sweat, and her breathing was the same as when she first started. If anything, her arm felt a bit sore from the shield, but the pain went away instantly.  

She rounded the last corner.  

“I don’t know how they convinced Feral to let them sit on his shield.” 

I don’t know either. The others didn’t prove themselves.  

“He’s probably just shy and hiding it. He could very well be the nicest one here.” 

I see. Feral's acting a little bit rude, but he is actually nice? That is something I need to learn more about.  

Thirty seconds later, Servi finished her ten laps. She turned towards the five on the shield.  

“Hot damn! Ten laps and not a bead of sweat!” 

“Gotta say that was incredible.” 

 Exclaimed the Dwarf cousins.  

The two Koena only nodded, but they wore a wide grin on their face. Feral, the mighty Kobold, slammed his tail into the ground over and over again. Was running ten laps something to be impressed about? Servi didn’t know.  

She didn’t know that one lap around the track was 400 meters. And she did ten after running 300 meters to and from the weapon shelf in the middle of the field. She wasn't aware of it, but she ran 4,300 meters without even sweating in the middle of summer.

It was something to be impressed about. But it wasn’t impossible. Most mid-ranking adventurers could do the same, and those who've reached  Rank 1 or 2 could triple or quadruple the distance.

“Alright! Alright! Stop!” said Fisher, who came over from the entrance where the brown doors were at. He had been talking to someone, but Servi didn’t know who.  

“I’ll let you off this time, but no more backtalk!” he pointed his armored fingers in her direction. Two red eyes stared back.  

“Fine. No more backtalk...” She shrugged her shoulders.  

Hmm… Maybe this girl does have what it takes to be a tank. Usually, calling them maggots and yelling at them is enough to make the weakest one break. But it didn’t seem to affect her. When I told her women can’t become tanks, I expected her to lash out, but she didn’t. And when I drew my dagger, everyone except her and the big one flinched. She has guts, that’s for sure.

I said and did all that to test them, and I think she figured that out.  Maybe the Governor forcing this mentorship onto me wasn’t such a bad idea. Fisher thought. He observed the girl who had an incredible amount of stamina and courage deep within herself.