CHAPTER 68: TRAINING

The training ground was nothing fancy. Just a large, beaten stretch of ground not too far from the governor’s building, surrounded by broken walls and some jagged metal sticking out the sides. In some corners, there were wooden dummies, most already cracked from use. The ground had patches of grass here and there, but most of it was just hard, dusty earth. Above, the sky was still that same orange haze. No clouds, Just light.

Julian stood in the center, arms crossed. He had ditched the royal cloak, left the glittering stuff inside, and now he was back in his training armor. He was now in his galactic knight armor, without the helmet, just a simple gear. Thick, worn black steel with shoulder plates and a half-chest guard. The reason for not wearing the helmet was so they could see his face.

Soldiers—some fresh, some familiar—began to line up. Not all were properly uniformed. Some had mismatched armor, while others had bruises still healing from the war. A few looked like they barely survived yesterday.

Julian eyed them all. Some looked scared, some curious, some simply exhausted.

He didn’t smile. This wasn’t a time to smile. He needed to train them. It was not like he had any previous experience on combat and fighting on wars, but it was the perks that came with being the Galactic knight, he got it.

He surprisingly had the experience and knew how to fight like he was a pro that had trained for years when he actually hadn’t.

Julian raised a hand. "Step forward."

They did.

"You’re standing on a training ground, not a graveyard," Julian said, pacing in front of them now. "Now, none of you should slack. It’s not everyday you see an Emperor as myself training his soldiers but what can I do, seems you guys are too amateurish in battle I have to do the hard work of training you guys myself."

The soldiers respected his presence, but they couldn’t hide the joy and excitement of being trained by the Emperor.

Julian, even though he was a cool normal guy who wouldn’t behave like god but at least, something people can hope up to, had no choice but to be strict for this training and so, he would have to talk rough and at least try and see if he could make this soldiers battle minded.

A few of the soldiers shuffled their feet, eyes down, some their hands behind their back.

Julian stopped. "Look up. All of you."

They obeyed promptly.

"What you guys faced yesterday was just an appetizer for what you will soon be facing and when you look at it, if not for my intervention, you guys wouldn’t be here. Half of you would probably be dead and the remaining ones of you will be prisoners."

He glanced over his shoulder.

A wooden dummy stood behind him, cracked at the neck.

Julian turned back to the soldiers. "This," he said, pointing, "Let’s say it was your former governor. Weak, slow, and scared. He died. Not mainly because he was a coward, but because he didn’t know how to be fierce and brutal."

He pointed to himself now. "I survived because I trained. Because I fought. And because I didn’t wait for the enemy to strike first."

He looked around.

"You want to stay alive? Then you’ll need to move like killers."

Julian exhaled.

"No more drills like you’re used to. This is war now. I train you my way. You fail, you’ll die. I won’t be killing you by then the enemy will be doing that."

He raised his hand again. "First rule. No slacking. If I see it, you’re out. I don’t care how young you are or what you’ve lost. War doesn’t give a damn," Julian said and paused, looking into their eyes too see if they were capturing what he was saying. By the looks of it, they were immersed.

Julian continued:

"Second rule, you learn fast or you don’t learn at all."

The soldiers looked at him, more focused now.

Julian turned and faced one of the dummies. Then he moved.

Quick.

He dropped low, pivoted, and struck the dummy’s side with his elbow, cracking it slightly. Then he spun and delivered a solid punch to the midsection, then stepped back. Fluid and precise.

He turned back.

"That’s basic," he said. "But it’s efficient. Now you. All of you."

They looked unsure.

"Do it!" Julian barked.

The soldiers moved to the remaining dummies, all ninety or so of them. He was only training Drayyors soldiers by the way, not the Hellfotts. They were other Drayyors soldiers that weren’t present here though. They were hospitalized for the severe injures they sustained.

Not enough dummies to go around, but they doubled up. Some mimed in the air.

Julian watched as one tried to mimic the elbow move and nearly tripped over his own foot.

Julian strode over.

"No," he said. "You’re not dancing. Reset."

He pulled the soldier’s arm back into position and nudged his leg. "Bend here. Center your weight. You’re not floating, you’re grounded. This is not some sort of dance move."

The soldier nodded.

"Again."

This time, the strike looked a little better.

Julian moved on and corrected another. Then he adjusted someone’s stance and told one soldier to stop looking like he was about to kiss the dummy.

He pulled them through the routine again.

"Pivot

"Pivot, strike, recover. Not once. Not slow. Again!"

He clapped his hands once, hard. The sound echoed across the empty field.

Dust kicked up as the soldiers tried again. They weren’t great. Most were terrible. But some had fire. Some had fight. Julian saw it in the way their fists tightened, in the way they gritted their teeth when they missed.

He walked past a group, pointing at one with a messy stance. "You—fix your legs. You can’t fight with knees like wet noodles."

Then another. "You—don’t hold your breath. You’ll pass out before you land a punch."

He kept moving. Correcting. Teaching.

The soldiers sweated, panted, struggled. Some grunted with effort. Others cursed under their breath when they got it wrong. But they kept going.

Julian nodded. That was good.

"You think you’re training for fun?" he said, voice raised again. "You’re not here to impress me. You’re here to not die also."

They paused. He let the words sink.

He walked back to the center of the field.

"Enough for now," he said. "Gather."

They closed in. Forming a loose half-circle around him. Some wiped their foreheads. A few collapsed to their knees, gasping for air.

Julian looked at them. The bruises. The fear. The anger.

"You’re not perfect," he said. "Hell, you’re not even decent yet. But that can change. You just need to know one thing—"

He stepped forward.

"Nobody’s coming to save us."

A breezy Silence.

"No damn person is going to save us. You’ve heard of the imperium. If they are to attack at this moment, it’s over for us."

He paused.

"I need you guys to be the best. To fight like the best. Build that mentality into you, make it your sobriquet. Of course I can’t teach you everything. You guys will have to learn a few things on your own."

He paused again, looking at their faces. The reason for the pauses was to let the words he had just said sink. He wanted the words to find a spot in their brains and cleave there in. He wanted them to, that was if it was possible, to hum it whenever they trained.

"If any opposition attacks, it’s us versus them. You either fight and win... or you don’t get back up."

He paused, his voice lower now.

"This isn’t a video game. We don’t get do-overs. There’s no backup army waiting in the sky. You are it. The last line. The wall between survival and extinction."

One of the soldiers nodded, fists clenched. Another murmured something—agreement, maybe a prayer (to who exactly)

Julian looked around one last time.

"We’re training every day from now on. No breaks. No excuses. We’ll fight until our bones crack and our fists bleed. And when the real war comes, we won’t beg for mercy. We’ll give none."

He turned away, walking toward the palace, but called out over his shoulder.

"Fix your stances. Tomorrow, we go harder."

The wind picked up, sweeping dust across the field.

All this while, Julian didn’t speak to the soldier who now acted as the commander. From the looks of it, he was among the best here today and Julian decided he would leave his title of Commander, seems he deserves it.

Some of the soldiers stood straighter. Others looked at each other, then went back to the dummies, practicing in silence.

Julian didn’t look back. But he smiled to himself.

If this soldiers start fighting well, at least if they kept this momentum they had here today, perhaps he had a chance.