Grub sat just outside the circle, waiting for the next round to begin, his posture relaxed on the surface but his mind turning over everything that had just happened. The cut across his chest that Yu gave him hadn't been deep but it was enough to expose what was underneath forcing him into adjusting his approach entirely. He had no choice now but to keep his cloak wrapped tightly around himself, covering everything. From a distance, it probably looked normal. Up close, though, it was different. He looked less like a person, or lizard in this case, and more like a moving shadow with a lizard's face placed on top of it. And even that face—he knew it only looked right at a glance. The longer anyone stared, the worse it would get.
He exhaled quietly before pulling out his notebook beneath the cover of his cloak, angling it carefully so no one else could see. His hand began to move almost immediately, writing down everything he had taken from the fight. The overextension. The opening. The timing. His own delay from the pain in his ribs and the cost of that hesitation. He wrote it all down quickly, efficiently, not wasting time thinking about how it looked. If he didn't record it, he'd lose it. And losing valuable knowledge like that wasn't something he could afford.
He had only written a few lines before Tre'yon leaned over his shoulder, close enough to see if Grub hadn't reacted instantly. The movement was casual, like he didn't think twice about it, and he said something in that same easy tone, clearly asking what Grub was writing. Grub didn't answer. Instead, the notebook snapped shut with a sharp motion, his head turning just enough for his eyes to meet Tre'yon's. Grub's face had no visible expression. It was just a blank stare.
Tre'yon paused for a second before chuckling, raising his hands slightly as if to say it wasn't a big deal. He didn't push it. Instead, he shifted the conversation, asking how Grub's fight had gone as if nothing had happened. Grub simply shrugged in response, turning his body slightly away and slipping the notebook back under his cloak. That should have been enough to end it.
It wasn't.
Tre'yon leaned in again, this time talking about his own fight, his voice carrying on beside Grub in an almost constant stream. Grub didn't bother trying to follow it. He caught a word here and there, but it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, he let it fade into the background and shifted his attention back toward the training grounds.
The fights were still going. From this distance, it was easier to see everything at once. Most of them played out exactly how he expected. They fighters had wide swings, poor positioning and panicked when things didn't go as planned. It was messy and predictable, but not all of them were like that.
A few stood out. There were moments where something changed. Not obvious at first, but clear if you were paying attention. A shift in movement. A sudden increase in force. And then he saw it. Some of the weapons were glowing.
Not brightly. But it was there he was sure of it, a faint energy clinging to the weapon, seeping off it slightly as it moved, like something was leaking into the air with each swing. Grub's focus sharpened. That had to be it.
Anima.
He wanted to write it down immediately, his hand already moving slightly beneath his cloak, but Tre'yon was still there and talking, still close enough to notice. Grub stopped himself. Instead, he forced himself to remember it. Every detail. Every movement. He'd write it later.
Some of the fights ended abruptly. One moment both fighters were still standing, the next—one wasn't. It was all over in a flash. Grub watched as one of the lizards collapsed and didn't get back up, it was dead. No one rushed in right away. It just… happened. Eventually, medical units came in, dragging the injured away, carrying others out entirely. The ground cleared quickly like it was routine.
So they really meant it. This wasn't controlled nor safe at all.
Lelan watched as the last of the injured were removed before raising her voice again, announcing the start of the second round. The shift was immediate. The remaining recruits straightened, the energy tightening again as they were called forward.
Grub stood and moved toward his assigned circle, his steps steady despite the discomfort in his body. As he entered the space, his eyes lifted toward his opponent.
This lizard was completely black. Not just darker than the others. Pitch black. The kind of color that didn't reflect anything back. Its eyes were worse.They were a sharp red and carried a scary feeling with them and they were focused directly on him.
Grub felt it immediately. Something wasn't right. The lizard tilted its head slightly before smirking, and that expression alone was enough to send a quiet sense of unease through him. Before the match even began, the lizard stepped forward and extended its hand. Grub hesitated for only a moment before taking it. The grip was firm while the smile didn't change.
If anything, it got worse. As soon as they separated, Grub realized what he was looking at. This was the one. The one who had killed someone in the first round.
And now he was his opponent.
Of course.
And on top of that, he still had to keep his cloak wrapped tight, making sure nothing underneath was exposed during the fight. That alone was going to make everything harder. This was going to be a problem.
Lelan gave the signal to begin, and Grub shifted into a stance immediately, his weight balanced, his grip firm on the morning star. Across from him, the black lizard didn't move at all. Instead, he bowed.
Then he spoke, "Cordylus."
Grub said nothing. Cordylus straightened and pulled out a small dagger, the blade catching the light just enough to show its uneven edges. He smiled as he looked at Grub, his eyes carrying something sharp, something almost eager.
"I know you're mute," he said casually, as if it didn't matter at all. "That's fine."
His gaze didn't shift.
"I've been looking….forward to this."
Grub noticed this lizard was using careful language that was easy for him to understand…strange. Grub remained still, watching him carefully. Cordylus took a slow step forward, his movements relaxed, unhurried.
"There's something different about you," he continued, his voice lowering slightly. "I can feel it."
A pause.
"I want to see what's inside."
Grub tightened his grip on his weapon.
This guy is insane.
And yet he still wasn't moving. He just stood there. Talking.
Grub frowned slightly beneath his hood. What the hell is he doing?
Time stretched longer than it should have. Then—Grub blinked.
And Cordylus was right in front of him. Without a shred of buildup or warning the pitch black lizard was there looking him eye to eye.
Grub's eyes widened in shock. He's fast.
Cordylus smiled wider, and in that same instant, the dagger moved. Grub reacted immediately, rolling to the side, but even then he felt it. A sharp sting along his side. As he landed, his hand moved instinctively, patting the area.
He felt blood. It was already seeping through the cloak. Grub pressed his hand against it immediately, covering the exposed area before anything underneath could be seen.
Cordylus didn't rush him. He just walked forward slowly, lifting the dagger and dragging his tongue along the flat side, collecting the blood. Then he began to laugh, low at first before it grew louder, more unrestrained. He kept walking toward Grub, stopping just short as he spoke again, his voice quieter now, low enough that no one else would hear.
"Are you really a Lacert?"
Grub's mind raced. Lacerts. That's what the lizards called themselves. And somehow, just from tasting his blood, this guy had figured out he wasn't a Lacert. He might've known even before that, was that why he made it so easy to understand his words? At this rate— He was going to be exposed.
Cordylus glanced briefly toward Lelan before looking back at him, his grin returning.
"Don't worry," he said, his tone almost mocking. "I won't tell."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I don't really care about loyalty."
Another smile.
"I just like a good fight… and blood on my blade."
He looked at Grub again, eyes narrowing slightly.
"So what are you?"
Grub didn't respond. He couldn't. But it didn't matter.
This guy already knew. Grub had been found out.
Pain flared again, stronger this time, pulling his attention downward as he looked briefly beneath his cloak. The wound had changed. What had been a simple cut was now spreading with a sickly green discoloration, creeping outward along his skin. Grub could tell right away this was poison.
Cordylus laughed when he saw his reaction, spinning the dagger lightly in his hand.
"I can't use Anima that well yet," he said casually, almost like he was explaining something simple. "But this—"
He raised the dagger slightly.
"This is a Tier 2 Tempered blade. It came with an added forte for giving anyone cut by it a dangerous dose of delicious poison."
Grub didn't understand what that meant. Like what a Tier 2 Tempered blade was, but he understood the rest of it. His body felt heavier and slower. He was beginning to feel a little drowsy as well.
Cordylus crouched slightly, watching him with clear amusement.
"This is how people like me get by," he continued. "You find something good… and you take it. Even if you gotta kill the owner first."
Grub dropped to one knee, clutching his stomach as the poison spread further, his thoughts beginning to slip under the pressure of it.
Not only had he been exposed. He was being poisoned.
Cordylus stepped forward again without hesitation and kicked him in the face, sending him to the ground fully this time. Grub's vision blurred as he hit, the impact rattling through him as Cordylus stood over him, raising the dagger for the finishing blow.
Grub was able to move just barely.
He rolled to the side as the blade struck the ground where he had been, the force of it sending a dull shock through the dirt. Cordylus laughed again, the sound sharper now, and began striking repeatedly, stabbing down again and again as Grub rolled, barely avoiding each hit.
Grub forced himself up, his body unsteady, wobbling as he stood. His vision was fading in and out, the edges of everything blurring as he struggled to stay upright. When he looked down again, the green had spread even further across his body. It was getting to far for his comfort.
Cordylus watched him, smiling.
"You won't last long," he said. "You don't seem to have any Anima. This kills Dormants pretty quickly."
He laughed again.
"Just go to sleep."
He raised the dagger once more.
"I'll cut you open after."
Grub staggered, his thoughts slipping for a moment before forcing themselves back into focus.
A weak laugh escaped him.
Shit.
He tightened his grip on the morning star and forced himself back into a stance, his body shaking slightly as the poison continued to spread. Across from him, Cordylus smiled wider, raising his dagger as he settled into his own stance.
Just one cut had done this. If he got hit again—
He was dead.