It was absurd.
By all conventional standards, Viktor Halden had no business training someone like Atticus Ravenstein.
A paragon was a force of nature, a symbol of unmatched power in Eldoralth, while Viktor was… well, just a grandmaster. It was akin to an ant training a giant.
If it came down to raw power, Viktor couldn't hold a candle to the monster that was a paragon.
While Atticus understood the need to be oriented in the ways of the military before being sent out to war, he doubted if that was what was happening here. The man had obviously been sent here to train him, but on what?
This was what Atticus wanted to know.
They possibly didn't think a grandmaster could teach him how to fight, did they?
It sounded like pride, but it was far from it. A paragon could kill a grandmaster numerous times before the latter could even blink.
Viktor's sharp, crimson, and unflinching eyes met his. The demon's face appeared calm.
"Listen, I'll be frank with you." He spoke after some seconds, his tone blunt, devoid of any attempt at mincing his words.
"You're not well liked by the other races. In fact, you're very hated. But here's the thing, so am I."
Atticus raised an eyebrow, but Viktor didn't pause.
"I've never trained anyone before," Viktor admitted, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Just got back from…' his gaze flickered as though recalling a painful past. He shook his head, finishing his words;
"…failing a mission. You'll be my first assignment. I'm sure they paired us because they want us both to fail."
There was no bitterness in his voice, no resentment. It didn't appear as though he cared about the situation. Just cold, hard truth.
"The training camp is a preparatory stage for the real war. You'll be taught everything, from what you'll be fighting to how to survive it. How to lead men who fear you more than the enemy, and make decisions that'll haunt you long after the blood dries."
His gaze darkened.
"You'll learn how to endure when your power means nothing. And when you're standing knee deep in the corpses of people you couldn't save, you'll understand exactly what war is."
Viktor's voice never wavered. It didn't need to.
"During all of it, I'll be in charge of you. Only you." He jabbed a finger toward Atticus's chest.
"Only you and the other apexes are getting personal drill instructors. The rest of the soldiers are not so lucky. But don't let that fool you. You all might have overwhelming power, but war doesn't care about just power. War is bloody. War is cruel. And without the firmest of wills, you won't survive it."
Atticus's eyes hardened, but Viktor wasn't finished.
"As your drill sergeant, and someone weaker than you, I'm not here to better your strength or refine your fighting style. I can't teach you how to throw a stronger punch or summon more fire."
"But I will break your mind down and rebuild it. I'll strip away every illusion you have about strength until you understand that the only thing keeping you alive out there won't be your power, it'll be your will."
They both locked eyes with each other. Viktor expected some reaction from Atticus, but he didn't get anything. Atticus only became more confused.
Break his mind? Rebuild it? Just who was this demon? Did he even know who he was talking to? He demon obviously assumed that because Atticus was a child, he knew nothing about war.
He was half right. Atticus knew nothing about war. But death and carnage? He knew that well.
"I see," Atticus muttered, his voice low as he turned away, uninterested in a battle of words. He would rather let everything unfold in time. Actions spoke louder than hollow words.
But Viktor wasn't done.
"What is your goal?" the demon asked. Atticus didn't even need to look back to know that Viktor was trying to pry into his mind.
Still, he answered without hesitation.
"The peak."
A moment of silence passed before Viktor's voice followed.
"Do you think you have enough will to reach that level?" There was no mockery in his tone, just a straight question.
"Do you understand what it means to stand at the top? The blood you'll wade through, the weight of the lives you'll sacrifice, the darkness it'll carve into your mind?"
Atticus stopped in his tracks before slowly turning his head to meet Viktor's gaze. His eyes were like frozen steel, calm, detached, but burning with something far more dangerous.
"It doesn't matter. The number of deaths doesn't matter. Nor does what you think my mind is."
"I will reach the top." His words were like a verdict etched in stone. "No matter what's waiting for me there."
The control room fell silent, the only sound coming from the soft beeping of the monitors. Viktor's eyes were wide open. He hadn't been expecting that response from a child.
Seconds ticked by before they both turned their gazes forward, neither speaking another word. The airship glided through the sky like a phantom, smooth and uninterrupted.
Then, without warning, the surroundings blurred violently. The airship jerked as if ripped through the fabric of reality, and in an instant, they were no longer in calm skies.
The world outside had twisted into chaos. Black thunder rolled across the sky, jagged bolts of lightning tearing through thick, churning clouds.
Ahead of them was a massive swirling portal. But what truly made Atticus's eyes narrow were the things guarding it.
Airships, if they could even be called that, hovered around the gate. He had never seen one that looked as lethal as them.
Atticus could feel a small hint of threat from them.
As they approached, the monstrous ships shifted. Their guns, large enough to tear through mountains, swiveled and locked onto their airship.
The tension crackled as a bright, scanning light swept over them.
Then, a cold, mechanical voice echoed through the space.
"General Apex Atticus. Sergeant Viktor Halden. Access granted."
The guns retreated, and the massive airships parted, allowing them to pass.
"Get ready. You'll be tested the instant we reach."
Viktor's voice sounded as the airship sped through the portal.