Page 24 of Interion

“No knockout?” Zion looked disappointed.

Lorena looked at the class, confused, her blue eyes wide.

“Knockout? You mean knocking the opponent unconscious?”

“Yes, a fight only ends when that happens,” the general said, so matter-of-factly it might as well have been universal law. Meanwhile, we grew more apprehensive by the second.

“No, sir. There are no knockouts in our training.”

Zion's lips pressed into a firm line. From what little I could read of his expressions, this was his version of a scowl.

“You've been playing at fighting instead of actually preparing. Now I understand why the quality of new soldiers has declined in recent years.”

The rules had changed a year before I arrived at the academy, and I thanked the gods for that. They said the training used to be brutal, and the hospital would be packed with injured students.

“At least this last semester, you'll get to train for real.”

Around me, students exchanged stunned looks.

“Are you saying we're going back to traditional training?” asked Adrian, the director's son. “With knockouts and everything?”

“You need to understand that there are no rules in battle. No enemy will show mercy after ten seconds. The truth is, in less than two, you'll be dead.” This time, his tone was gentler, as if explaining something simple to children. “I'm not here to play at fighting. I came to train soldiers who will survive and return safe and sound to Interion. Many of you will be in my squad after graduation, and I won't train kids just to bury them afterward. From now on, the rules have changed. Are we clear?”

Around me, the students didn't even blink.

“Yes, trainer,” we responded, a bit hesitantly. He'd asked us to call him trainer, but everything about his posture screamed general.

“So, let's move on to the first exercise. I want to see how you perform in hand-to-hand combat. I'll call two students at a time, and I want you to fight—but forget the old rules. You won't be choosing your opponents.” Zion's eyes were on me, making it clear that the days of friendly sparring with Breno were over. “You need to face different people to adapt to varying strengths and sizes.” He positioned himself beside the ring. “The fight only ends when your opponent can no longer get up. The only rules are: no serious damage to vital organs, and no using your gifts without permission.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Let me be very clear—right now, I'm not giving anyone permission. If anyone uses a gift during training, there will be punishment.”

Maybe I'd misunderstood. There was no way Zion was suggesting we fight until we dropped. I turned to Breno, and he stared back at me, shocked. Zion had to be losing it.

“First pair: Adrian Sigmund and Lorena Castanov.”

My heart started racing again—I thought I might be having a panic attack. The two climbed reluctantly into the ring, indecision written on their faces as they positioned themselves across from each other. The order to begin was given. I watched Lorena attack Adrian while he blocked and studied each move. She was quick to strike but left her guard open. Adrian noticed this too, and he timed the moment she dropped her guard perfectly—with a thunderous punch, he knocked her down. The blonde fell and dragged herself to the corner of the platform, too disoriented to get up. Adrian waited for his opponent to rise, but it was clear she wouldn't be getting off the floor anytime soon—her nose was broken.

“Finish it, Adrian,” Zion commanded from beside the ring.

The boy seemed paralyzed, still bound by the old rules.

“You have three seconds, or I'm coming up there myself.”

We watched in horror. The boy must have sensed the threat was real and made his choice. He approached his seated opponent, placing both hands behind her head. She tried to break free, but before she could, Adrian pulled her into a brutal knee strike. Lorena slid to the floor, limp as a rag doll. Zion counted to ten and declared Adrian the winner of the first match.

“Kyller, come here.” His voice made me jump, snapping me out of my stupor. “Heal the girl.”

He pointed to the body on the floor. Her nose had been reduced to jelly from the blow.

“I'm not authorized to perform this kind of procedure without my superiors' supervision,” I explained as I stood up. When students got hurt during training, they usually ended up at the hospital.

“I've already spoken with your superiors. You won't have any problems if you follow the order.”

Well, that caught me off guard. Besides the king and his three Pillars, there was no higher authority than Zion, and no one would be crazy enough to disobey an order from the general. So I went to Lorena without another word.

I took a deep breath, told myself to stay calm, and placed my hands on the sides of her head. I scanned to assess the damage and positioned my fingers around the bone that had shifted out of place. Then, with a pull and an audible crack, I set it back where it belonged. Next, I drew on a bit of my power, and soon a white light glowed at my fingertips, radiating a tingling warmth. I touched her temples and watched the energy flow into the girl's head. I visualized the cartilage reshaping and the blood vessels regenerating until her nasal structure returned to normal.

Contrary to what people thought, healing with the gift wasn't simple at all. The energy wouldn't regenerate organs unless you directed it to. We needed to know and understand every bone, muscle fiber, cartilage, and blood vessel to shape the repair. That's why we spent four years in college learning the contours, feel, function, and composition of each organ before starting residency in the fifth year, where we put what we'd learned into practice. Otherwise, how would we know how to repair a kidney without understanding what it was, what it looked like, and where it belonged? When a bone broke into two or more pieces, things got complicated—a broken bone had to be removed and reconstructed, or it could end up piercing surrounding tissue. That's why elmedics were required to master the art of surgery. Having the gift was useless if you didn't know how to use it.

After ten seconds, Lorena's eyes flew open and she sat up with a start, shielding her face as if still in combat.