The Lesson

Asher's face was as grim as the others, not because of the brawny lieutenant's booming voice, but because of the light that emanated from him when he shouted.

It was the light of Source Energy, different from Byfang's lonely silver glow. The lieutenant's light was a pale red, exuding a fierce and domineering aura.

Aside from the lieutenant, Asher noticed several instructors also radiated a faint glow. Their light was dim compared to the lieutenant's, but Asher knew well enough that these were people he couldn't afford to provoke, at least not now.

He decided to strictly follow the lieutenant's orders. To such people, killing him would be as easy as crushing an ant, and they were not as easily provoked as Gutt's soldiers. He wanted to live, to settle the score with Andy.

And this was also his mother's wish!

At the lieutenant's signal, several soldiers began to sprinkle a yellow powder around the youths. Meanwhile, Andy continued, "Next, we have a simple assessment. Trust me, it's really simple."

He sneered, "I just need you to stand still for 10 minutes and remain quiet. Most importantly, do not step out of this yellow circle. Whoever disobeys the order, well..."

He drew a rugged revolver from his waist, deliberately flaunting it. The implication was clear.

Soon, a not-so-perfect circle of yellow powder was drawn on the square, with a hundred or so youths standing within it. Many looked fearful, and Asher sniffed sharply, the powder's acrid scent nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Such a pungent odor wasn't just for marking a circle.

It was more like a containment measure.

Asher's suspicion quickly became reality as several soldiers brought over sealed alloy drums. After entering a code, the electronic locks clicked open, and the dark space inside the drums sparkled with countless tiny crimson lights.

The youths couldn't hide the fear in their eyes, backing away, with the more timid ones even falling to the ground.

Suddenly, a small creature leaped out of a drum. It was an ant, but larger, about the size of a cicada, with a dark red body and tiny, sharp mandibles gently moving.

"These are volcanic ants. They live near volcanic vents and are extremely sensitive to vibrations. If I were you, I'd stand still and not make a move," Lieutenant Ronan said with a malicious grin.

The soldiers began to tap on the drums, and the vibrations caused a flood of volcanic ants to crawl out. They spread like a dark red tide, at first seeming disoriented, adapting to the new environment. But when some youths couldn't help but scream, the ants locked onto their targets and swarmed toward them like a tide.

Asher took a deep breath, slowing his heartbeat. It was a technique he learned from the snow wolves to diminish his presence, allowing him to approach prey silently before striking.

As he calmed his breathing, the ants reached the youths' feet. Dozens of ants began to climb Asher's legs, and he made sure to breathe slowly and gently, preventing his body from reacting too violently.

However, the other youths were not Asher. At least half of them screamed, stomping and swatting with their feet and hands. Their excessive reactions quickly provoked the ants. The sizable ants easily tore through the youths' tender skin, burrowing into ears, nostrils, and even lower orifices.

Within a minute, over a dozen youths had collapsed, vomiting blood as the ants gnawed their insides.

A boy, about twelve or thirteen, couldn't stand it anymore and screamed as he ran out of the yellow circle. Ronan didn't stop him. As more followed suit, Ronan nodded to the soldiers behind him.

Then came a succession of gunfire, as the soldiers shot down each child that dared to leave the circle. Ronan himself used his revolver to blow away half of a girl's head, and the bodies of the fallen became a feast for the ants.

Asher simply closed his eyes and held his breath, standing still, covered in ants. He remained motionless, like a statue. Ronan soon noticed him, and with a nod to an instructor, he said, "Looks like we have some decent material here. The kid actually knows how to slow his heartbeat and conceal his breath. Look, those damned ants are treating him like a rock."

"Make a note of his number."

The instructor nodded.

After the longest 10 minutes, Ronan snapped his fingers, and several soldiers with water hoses began to spray the children. A torrent of cold water hit Asher, and the ants that covered him were washed away. They struggled in the water but soon lay motionless. Asher licked the water dripping from his mouth, tasting a strong sourness on his tongue.

Something in the water was lethal to the volcanic ants.

The hosing lasted a full minute before stopping. Less than a third of the youths were left standing. Nearly fifty had died from the ants' bites, and a dozen or so were shot by Ronan and his soldiers.

In just 10 minutes, the camp's numbers had dwindled to thirty-five. Now Asher had some understanding of what Ronan meant by "hell."

"Congratulations, you've survived the first and most difficult challenge," Ronan said to the soaked youths. Some of the girls, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies, revealed their budding forms. Ronan gave the girls a hard look before continuing, "This was your first lesson: absolute obedience to my commands. Follow my orders, and you might not die. But if you disobey, you're as good as dead."

"I think the deserters have made that clear enough."

Ronan clapped his hands, "Alright, that's all for this morning's lesson. Here are some manuals about the Death Arena. I know some of you don't even understand why you're here, so take this opportunity to read up. Instructors will take you to the barracks later. When you hear the whistle, I expect you to be in front of me within 15 seconds. Otherwise, you can weigh the consequences yourself."

"Dismissed!"

Following that, Asher and the others were led to a rudimentary barrack.

The barrack was made of sheet metal, with thick steel bars as supports. Aside from that, there were only two rows of iron beds. Asher chose a bed in the corner, at least three meters from the nearest window. Many kids liked to sleep near the windows, but Asher instinctively chose a corner less vulnerable to attack, a habit from years of living in the wild.

His clothes were soaked through, so he stripped off his shirt. Soon, instructors brought some camp uniforms: a grass-green vest, camouflage trousers, and black military boots. It was the best clothing Asher had worn in five years. The instructors supervised as the kids changed into the uniforms. The barrack was co-ed, so the dozen or so girls had to strip in front of everyone, revealing their developing bodies.

This naturally attracted the eager eyes of the instructors and other boys. Asher, having lived with snow wolves for years, didn't quite understand matters of men and women. The other boys, however, were different; some of the thirteen or fourteen-year-olds already had such experiences, so their gazes toward the girls were even more intense.

As the youths changed clothes, suddenly a dozen instructors burst into the barrack, each wielding a whip, and began lashing the naked boys and girls without warning.

Screams filled the barrack.

Asher's chosen spot gave him an extra second or two to react. So when an instructor's whip came flying, he rolled on the bed, letting the whip hit the iron frame. The instructor grunted, flicked his wrist, and the whip lashed out again. Asher dove to the floor, avoiding the second strike.

"Damn it!" the instructor cursed, lashing out again.

The whip aimed for Asher's head, who instinctively covered it with his hands. Curling into a ball to minimize the target area, he shifted slightly, letting the whip that was meant for his head land on the outer side of his left arm, leaving a swollen red mark.

Several more lashes followed.

The barrack was filled with cries of pain, but the attack was as quick as it came. In just five seconds, all the instructors stopped. Each child had been whipped at least two or three times. Asher got more, six in total, twice as many as the others!

Then Lieutenant Ronan walked in, his trademark smile on his face, "How was that, you little shits? Did you enjoy the whipping? Remember this: you're here to undergo the strictest training to survive the cruelest games. Don't think you're still at home. Here, an attack can happen at any time. What you need to do is to be vigilant at all times and learn how to take a beating quickly!"

"This," he said, "was your second lesson!"