Chapter 10: The Aftermath of the Storm.
As the crushing weight of the aura continued to ripple through the recruitment square, Spencer forced himself to remain upright, his muscles twitching under the strain as he scanned the surrounding crowd.
Despite the overwhelming number of recruits who had already collapsed into the dirt, he noticed a few scattered figures amongst the sea of suffering who were holding their own remarkably well.
Most of the survivors were gritting their teeth and shaking, much like he had been before his stat allocation, but a rarer few were performing even better than he was, their postures rigid and their expressions focused.
Amongst this group of resilient survivors, there was an even smaller number, a group that could easily be counted on one hand, who stood amidst the struggling recruits with completely nonchalant looks on their faces.
These individuals weren't just enduring the pressure; they were practically ignoring it, staring back at the platoon leaders on the elevated platform with eyes full of calm and bored indifference.
Spencer felt a flicker of wariness as he looked at them, realizing that even with his new Tier 1 status, there were monsters among the recruits who possessed innate talents or secret backgrounds that put them on an entirely different level from the start.
"Berick, I think that's about enough," a voice suddenly broke the heavy silence of the square, sounding as sharp as a snapping twig.
One of the other platoon leaders, a blonde man in his mid-twenties with a visibly displeased expression, stepped forward and placed a firm, steadying hand on the shoulder of the man who had been emanating the terrifying pressure.
The man identified as Berick immediately stiffened, a deep frown carving itself into his tanned face as he turned his head to glare at the hand resting on his armor.
The invisible tide of force that had been drowning the recruits seemed to waver for a moment, the air growing slightly less stagnant as the two officers locked eyes in silence.
"Tsk, you just had to ruin it right when things were finally getting interesting, didn't you?" Berick muttered, his voice sounding more like a growl.
He clicked his tongue with displeasure, his eyes lingering on the few recruits who were still standing before he finally chose to disperse the aura entirely.
The transition was instantaneous and jarring; the leaden weight vanished, replaced by a sudden rush of cool air that made many of the recruits gasp as if they were surfacing from deep water.
"Since I'm done here, you bitches better not come looking for me later, got it? I've wasted enough of my time on this fodder already." Berick said with a dismissive wave of his hand, not waiting for a response before he turned on his heel and began storming off the platform.
While his arrogant parting words clearly irritated the other platoon leaders, their jaws tightening in various stages of anger, they did nothing but frown at his retreating back as he walked off toward the main camp.
They were all far too familiar with his volatile antics by now to know that it wasn't wise to challenge him over something so trivial, for Berick wasn't just another officer, he was a notorious rising star within the border army, a man whose combat record was as impressive as his personality was abrasive.
Spencer was obviously curious after seeing the exchange between the platoon commanders, but right now he was more than glad to see that psychopath leave.
"That psychotic bastard... was he really planning on killing all of us back then?" Spencer muttered under his breath, struggling to catch his wide, ragged breaths as the adrenaline began to recede.
He kept his hands firmly planted on his knees, forcing himself to remain standing even as thick droplets of sweat dripped from his forehead and soaked into the earth.
His lungs burned with every inhalation, and his newly strengthened muscles felt like they had been put through a hydraulic press. If he, with his boosted stats, felt this drained, it was almost impossible to describe the state of the other recruits around him.
The recruitment square looked like a battlefield without a single drop of blood spilled; most of the men were laying unconscious on the floor in various states of distress.
Some were foaming at the mouth, their eyes hazy and rolled back into their heads, while others had dark blood leaking from the corners of their lips from the internal pressure that had nearly ruptured their organs.
The air was filled with the sound of groaning and the desperate gasps of those who were only just regaining their senses.
"Can we please get some medics over here immediately? We have several men in critical condition," the blonde platoon leader who had told off Berick earlier called out, his voice directed toward a group of soldiers standing on standby near the edge of the square.
"Right away, sir!" the soldier replied, offering a crisp salute before hurrying off toward the medical tents located in the heart of the camp.
Within moments, several teams of medics arrived on the scene, carrying stretchers and satchels filled with pungent-smelling herbs and vials.
Curiously, they didn't seem surprised by the carnage at all; to be honest, some of them actually looked relieved as they surveyed the damage, as if they had been expecting far worse from Berick's "welcoming ceremony."
Their casual efficiency made Spencer wonder just how infamous Berick truly was within the ranks for his actions to draw such a weary, practiced reaction from so many seasoned military personnel.
"The rest of you who are still conscious, please don't be alarmed or discouraged by what has transpired here today," the blonde platoon leader said, his gaze sweeping over the survivors with a hint of apology. "In time, you will be formally informed of your assigned Platoons. Your specific squads and duties will be discussed in detail after you have all been processed and received your assigned barracks."
This was the last thing Spencer heard the blonde platoon leader say before the officer turned and left the scene with the remaining leaders in tow.
As the officers disappeared, the silence of the square was replaced by the hurried activity of the medics, leaving Spencer to stand alone in the cooling afternoon air, his green eyes fixed on the distant horizon as he contemplated the brutal reality of his new life in the army.