Chapter 45 | Benchwarmers

Leon’s vora stood beside Nyra’s. Two hundred armored recruits faced off in the open dirt field. No one spoke, the wind was still, and the air thick with tension. Inside his helmet, Leon heard only his own breath and the steady thump of his heartbeat, amplified in the enclosed space.

He tapped the side of his helmet. Nothing. Tried again. Still no response. There was no HUD, no comms, no response at all. Just the quiet hiss of the air filter and the thin layer of condensation forming on the inside of his visor.

The recruits had hoped the instructors would activate the combat sensors and comms, but that never happened. The armor remained just as it had been since they first received it; no enhancements, no systems, nothing but basic protection and an air filter.

Around him, a few recruits shifted. Some tapped their helmets too, looking for a signal. But nothing came. The armor worked, but only for protection and air. No targeting. No markers. No way to talk. Just silence. 

He glanced down at the spear in his hand. Like the others, he had swapped out his old training gear for the weapons laid out on the racks along the edge of the field.

The spear, though still blunted, pulsed with active mana circuits. When he focused, he could feel the weapon respond, accepting his mana. The sword at his hip was different too. Sleeker, more refined than the dull practice blades they had been lugging around for weeks.

Leon had left the shield behind. It was too bulky and he could not use it effectively. It slowed him down more than it helped.

His group stood in their assigned positions. At the front, three voras formed an arrowhead, holding the frontline defense. Just behind them, another three waited to reinforce the line or respond to any flanking attacks.

Behind those were Vora One, led by Damon, and Vora Two, positioned as flexible support. At the very back stood Leon’s and Nyra’s voras, held in reserve as rear guards, ready to react if the formation broke or the enemy tried to circle around.

The bulky crowd of armored recruits blocked his view of Group B across the field. He stood still, waiting with his vora lined up. Mason led the four shield bearers in front, while Leon stood just behind with four others, gripping their spears and swords, ready for whatever came next.

The wait dragged on, each second stretching longer than the last. A tight pressure settled in his head, a light dizziness from the mounting tension. Then a long, sharp horn blared across the field, followed by rising shouts. He and the recruits around him shifted their weapons, muscles tightening at the sound of battle cries growing louder.

Through the gaps between the armored ranks, he caught sight of a few figures from Group B charging forward. Behind them, a cloud of dust billowed up, marking the approach of the enemy.

He saw Damon raise his spear, the signal they had agreed on during planning. It was the command for the three front voras to begin a slow, steady advance, intended to absorb the first wave and reduce the enemy’s momentum.

"Three... two... one..." Leon murmured, barely louder than a breath.

Ahead of him, Damon angled his spear forward. The signal for the rest of the formation to move in pace with the frontline, boots pounding the earth in unison. The heavy thud of a hundred armored recruits marching together sent vibrations up Leon’s legs. 

His heart pounded faster, matching the rhythm of their steps. Heat rose in his chest and adrenaline flooded his veins.

Then, chaos.

The first clash rang out. Shields bashed into others, weapons struck, and bodies slammed into each other. The sound tore through the field like a thunderclap.

The rhythmic footsteps drowned beneath a wave of shouting. Screams and cries filled the air, but no one slowed. The front voras pressed hard, driving into the attackers like a wedge, breaking their formation. If they had waited, if they had let the charge come at full speed, the front line would have buckled in seconds.

Leon watched Damon’s spear, waiting for the next signal.

The frontlines must still be pushing through, Leon thought as he strained to catch any signs through the press of bodies ahead.

A second later, Damon lowered his spear. 

“Stop!” he called out. 

Mason and his shield bearers halted their advance. 

Leon watched as the secondary line shifted into position. The two outer voras moved out to the left and right, extending their coverage to guard the flanks of Voras One and Two. The center vora remained directly behind the frontline, ready to reinforce if needed.

With the formation settled, Leon had a clear view of the battlefield.

The frontline was holding steady. But a few recruits lay still on the ground. 

Why are they not moving? Leon wondered.

He scanned the field and spotted an enemy vora slipping past the edge of the frontline, circling toward the left flank—his side. The left vora in the secondary line surged forward to intercept.

Shields slammed into each other with a deep, vibrating thud that rolled through the ground. Blue light flared to life across their surfaces, crawling like lightning through the mana circuits as the absorption enhancement of the shield activated.  

The glow pulsed brighter with each impact, catching bursts of raw force and swallowing them whole. Recruits threw themselves into the clash, armor grinding, and weapons flashing. Boots dug into the hard dirt, bodies shoved forward, and the field filled with the sharp ring of metal. 

He turned toward Damon’s position and caught sight of Vora Two advancing.

That’s not good, he frowned and tightened his grip on the spear.

Leon stepped out from behind the shield-bearers and narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the shifting formation through the chaos. The center vora from the secondary line had already pushed forward to reinforce the front. Vora Two was now holding their old position.

Nyra came up beside him, her armor brushing his as she knocked her helmet against his.

“WE MIGHT HAVE TO ENGAGE SOON!” she yelled, forcing her voice through the helmet and storm of battle noise. “GET READY! OUR VORAS NEED TO STAY TOGETHER!”

A sudden, jarring crash tore through the air.

“Shit!” Leon hissed.

Another enemy vora had broken through the left flank and collided with Damon’s.

“LET’S GO!” Nyra said before she jogged back to her vora. 

Leon turned back to his.

“LISTEN UP!” Leon shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. The vora gathered around, forming a tight huddle while the shield bearers held their positions, shields braced and facing forward. 

“Arrow formation. We are going to back up One. Mason center shield. Malric, Ravi beside him. Kara and Niko watch the flanks,” Leon ordered the standard formation he had learned from the lectures. 

“Talia, Lena, with me in the center. Malco and Varen watch the rear. Let’s g—”

"We should let Nine go in first," Malric said, his voice edged with defiance. Even through the helmet, the challenge in his tone was clear, he didn’t like taking orders from Leon.

Mason started to move, but Leon raised a hand to stop him.

“You’re not lead,” Leon said, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t care what you think of me. This role was given to me, not you.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he nodded toward Mason.

“Shields on me. Let’s move.” Mason called the order, and Leon saw Ravi gently nudge Malric into position. 

When Malric finally stepped into place, Leon unclenched his fist, surprised at how tense he had been. 

He wasn’t sure what had sparked the sudden firmness in him, but he knew he didn’t like being questioned at that moment.

He shook his head to get rid of distracting thoughts and the doubt aside. 

“ADVANCE!” he commanded.