CHAPTER 223: TRAINING

[ Old World - Blackmoon Colony - Training grounds ]

" Alright,boys! No slacking off!Now move your ass! "

It was probably mid noon. Every warrior was sweating it out.Dust lifted under stomping boots, curling around sweat slicked bodies. The sound of metal clanging against metal could be heard from a long distance.

Dax stood at the center,skirtless, his muscles corded and gleaming under the sun. He rolled his shoulders once, watching with a predator’s calm as his men continued training.

But his attention wasn’t on them.

At the far end of the grounds, a knot of men sat in silence...backs hunched, wrists bound with heavy metal fused with wolfsbane.The slave warriors of fallen Skarthheim.

Broken, yet not bowed. Their eyes followed Dax every time he moved, every time his voice barked out an order.

Dax smirked, deliberately dragging a hand across his chest to wipe sweat, making a show of his strength.

"Harder!" he roared at a soldier sparring before him. "If you can’t knock your opponent to his knees, you don’t deserve to stand on yours!"

The soldier grunted, slammed his partner into the dirt. Dust exploded, cheers rose. Dax clapped once, sharp.

"That’s what I want to see!" He glanced at the captives, letting his voice carry. "Did you see that, Skarthheim dogs? That’s how warriors fight. Not the pathetic excuses you lot passed for combat."

A ripple of murmurs stirred among the captives. One of them lifted his chin.

"You think we are impressed by your theatrics, Beta?" His voice was gravel, rough with disdain.

Dax chuckled low, sauntering closer, boots crunching over the dirt. "Not impressed, huh?" He spread his arms wide, flexing. "Then you haven’t been watching properly."

Another captive spat to the side. "You sweat and bark like an overfed mutt. Doesn’t make you stronger than us."

Dax’s grin widened. "Big words for men sitting in chains." He crouched just enough to look the scarred warrior in the eye. "Tell me, which of you was Skarthheim’s ’best’ fighter? Surely your Alpha didn’t march into battle with this pack of weaklings."

The scarred man’s jaw clenched at the mention of Thorgar, but he said nothing.

The mighty Thorgar was indeed gone and they were now at the mercy of these noobs.

Dax stood up laughing. "That’s what I thought. No pride left. No bite! Which means they are only good scraps for me to toy with."

Behind him, one of his soldiers shouted, "Beta! Shall we make them watch the breaking drill?"

Dax turned, his smirk getting sharper than a blade. "Yes. Let’s give them a lesson in endurance. Something they will remember when they dream of their lost pack."

He motioned, and two warriors dragged a thick wooden post into the center of the grounds. Another soldier fetched ropes.

Dax’s voice dropped low, meant for the captives alone. "See, I train my men until they bleed. Until they break. And then I force them to stand again. That is why Skarthheim couldn’t stand in our way. That is why you sit there, rotting, while my men rise stronger every day."

One of the younger captives snarled, surging against his bonds. "You will choke on your arrogance, wolf."

Dax tilted his head, studying him like prey that had twitched in a snare. Then he called out, louder. "Bring him forward. Let’s see how long Skarthheim spirit lasts when tested."

The ropes clattered to the dirt as Dax’s men yanked the young Skarthheim warrior forward. He stumbled once, then straightened, chin lifted. His wrists were freed, but only so he could fight.

The training grounds erupted with whistles and jeers. Soldiers crowded around in a loose circle, hungry for blood.

Dax’s smirk deepened. He circled the captive slowly, hands clasped behind his back, sweat dripping down his temple.

"You want to snarl like a wolf?" he taunted, his voice carrying to every ear. "Then prove you’ve still got fangs. Fight."

The Skarthheim warrior’s lips curled. "Gladly. Better to fall clawing than rot in chains.For Skathheim.For Alpha Thorgar!! "

A soldier stepped forward, broad shouldered, grinning with savage anticipation. He rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles.

The circle closed in tighter.

"Attention on the ground!" one of the men shouted, posing as the perfect commentator.

"No weapons! Hands and claws only!" another chimed in.

"Rip him apart!"

Dax raised his arm, then dropped it like a judge calling for silence. "Begin."

The clash was immediate...two wolves, flesh against flesh, claws raking. The Skarthheim warrior moved fast, ducking under a swing, slamming his fist into the Blackmoon soldier’s ribs. A grunt tore out of the man’s throat. The crowd roared.

"Good!" Dax barked, eyes glinting. "Don’t fold yet, boy. Show me something worth watching!"

The soldier snarled, launching forward. His claws slashed across the captive’s chest, crimson spraying. The Skarthheim warrior stumbled back, chest heaving, then let out a guttural growl and lunged again.

The men cheered, stomping the ground in rhythm, like drums of war.

"Break him!"

"Spill his guts!"

"Skarthheim trash won’t last long!"

The fight grew bloodier. Fists cracked against jaws, claws raked skin, the dirt darkened beneath them. The soldier grabbed the captive by the throat, slamming him into the ground, but the Skarthheim warrior raked across his arm, drawing another spray of blood.

The crowd went wild. Some laughed, others howled, some pounded their fists on the dirt. It was no longer just a punishment...it was free entertainment...

Dax’s smile widened as he looked around at his men, their eyes alight with bloodlust. He raised his hand again. "Enough!"

But the soldier didn’t stop. He pounded the captive’s face, over and over, until the sound turned wet and sickening.

"Beta says stop!" one of the men barked, grabbing his comrade by the shoulder.

The soldier finally paused, chest heaving, his knuckles dripping red. The Skarthheim warrior lay half conscious, coughing blood, one eye swollen shut.

Dax crouched down beside him, grabbing his chin, forcing his head up. "Not bad," he said almost mockingly, his voice low but sharp enough for all to hear. "But not enough. That’s why your pack fell. That’s why you kneel here in the dirt."

The Skarthheim warrior spat blood at his feet. "Better to fall than to serve under New World butchers like you."

Gasps and jeers rippled around the circle. Dax’s smile didn’t falter...but his grip on the man’s jaw tightened.

"Then you will fall again," he murmured coldly. He shoved the captive’s head back into the dirt and stood, turning to his men.

"Another!" he barked. "Line them up. Let’s see if any* Skarthheim wolf has a spine left."

The crowd erupted into howls of approval. The games had only just begun.

The circle of men thickened, dust rising in the air like smoke. Another Skarthheim warrior was dragged to the center, shoved hard until he nearly toppled. His arms flexed against the ropes until they were cut loose, his wrists raw from chafing.

"Your turn, dog," one of the Blackmoons sneered, shoving him forward.

The Skarthheim warrior spat at the dirt, his shoulders rolling as he straightened to his full height. Broader than most, scars running across his torso, he looked every bit the seasoned fighter.

"I will take two of yours at once," he growled, voice sharp with defiance.

The soldiers jeered.

"Hear that? He wants to die faster!"

"Beta, let me in...I will crush him myself."

"Two? He won’t last a minute."

Dax chuckled, folding his arms over his sweat slick chest. "Two, then. Give him what he wants."

Two Blackmoon wolves entered the circle, cracking their necks, their grins wicked.

The fight exploded instantly...grunts, snarls, the smack of fists on flesh. The Skarthheim moved like a boulder, shrugging off blows and slamming one Blackmoon into the dirt so hard the ground shook. The other clawed at his back, tearing flesh, but the Skarthheim twisted and flung him aside like a rag.

Cheers roared. Dust and blood mingled in the air. For a moment, it looked as though the Skarthheim might actually win.

Then there was a glint...steel flashed.

A glimpse of hidden metal in the chaos.

One Blackmoon soldier had slipped a knife from his boot, driving it quickly...very sly...into the Skarthheim’s side. The warrior roared, stumbling, rage twisting his face.

A hush swept the circle as he collapsed to one knee, clutching his wound.

One of the captives watching from the sidelines surged forward, shouting. "That’s cheating! You bastards...!"

But before the words could finish, the crowd parted.

Vera entered.

Her presence silenced the noise as easily as a blade slices flesh.

Fierce eyed, grace of a raven...she moved with a predatory grace. Her lips curved into a smile as her gaze found Dax across the circle.

"Dax," she purred.

The Beta’s smirk shifted into something softer, his chest heaving as she strode straight to him. Without a word, she caught his jaw and kissed him deeply, ignoring the blood, the dust, the eyes on them. The soldiers hooted, some laughing, some turning away with smirks.

The Skarthheim warrior who had just spoken froze...the protest died in his throat.

His glare burned with fury, but his words were drowned beneath the spectacle.

And in that exact moment of distraction, another Blackmoon soldier seized the chance...slamming his claw into the wounded Skarthheim’s throat and dragging him down into the dirt until he lay gasping,totally bloodied.

"No!" one of the other captives shouted, straining against his chains. But the circle cheered, stomping their feet, their cries drowning everything else out.

The Skarthheims fell back, silent now...absolutely silent.

Their eyes darkened with resentment, their jaws clenched. Fury coiled in their chests, but they said nothing. Not at the moment...but the furnace was burning.

Dax barely noticed. Vera’s hands trailed down his chest, tracing the hard planes of muscle, smearing sweat across her fingertips.

"Enough with your silly games," she whispered against his ear. "Come with me."

His grin widened, hungry, careless.

He lifted his head, barking to the men around them. "That’s it for today. Dismissed! Tomorrow we continue again. "

The soldiers howled their approval, dragging the broken Skarthheim bodies aside as if they were nothing more than scraps.

Dax turned back to Vera, eyes glittering with heat. "Lead the way,my beloved."

And the Beta walked off the grounds, leaving blood and bitterness to smolder in the dirt behind him... just like that.