Chapter 201 Training with Cain 1

Chapter 201: Chapter 201 Training with Cain 1

Talia’s POV

The morning light was still pale when I walked to the training ground.

The grass was wet with dew, and the air was cool and crisp. The pack house was still quiet, because most wolves were still asleep. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath, and waiting for what was to come.

I had woken early, so my body was heavy with sleep, but my mind was already racing with everything that needed to be done. There was so much to prepare, and so much to plan.

My mind kept drifting to the map, to the Ashen Lands, and to my mother. But I pushed the thoughts aside, because I could not afford to be distracted. I had to focus on the present.

But right now, the only thing that mattered was training.

Cain was already there when I arrived.

He stood in the center of the field, with his arms crossed, and his face unreadable.

He looked like a statue carved from stone, unmoving and unyielding. I had seen him fight, and I knew what he was capable of. I also knew that he would not go easy on me.

He did not greet me, and he did not smile. He just looked at me with those cold, and steady eyes.

There was no warmth in his gaze, but there was also no malice. He was not judging me, he was simply assessing me, like a warrior sizing up an opponent.

"You are late," he said.

His voice was flat, and emotionless. It was not an accusation, It was a statement of fact.

I looked at the sun that was barely above the horizon, and then back at Cain. "I am early."

"You are late," he repeated.

I opened my mouth to argue.

The words were already forming on my tongue, ready to defend myself. But then I saw the way he was watching me, and I realized that he was not interested in excuses.

I saw the look in his eyes that he was not joking, he was testing me.

He wanted to see how I would react. He wanted to know if I would argue or if I would accept his authority.

So I closed my mouth and nodded.

"I am sorry," I said.

He did not respond. He just walked to the center of the field and motioned for me to follow.

His footsteps were silent on the grass, and I had to hurry to keep up with him. He moved like a predator, fluid and purposeful.

"The voice magic will not always be enough," he said. "There will be times when you cannot use it. Times when you have to rely on yourself."

I nodded. "I understand."

"Then let us begin." He said.

The training was brutal.

I had trained with Kaelen many times, but this was different. Kaelen pushed me, but he also encouraged me. Cain did neither of those things, he simply expected me to keep up.

Cain showed me how to stand, how to move, and how to use my body as a weapon. He taught me how to block, how to strike, and how to use my opponent’s weight against them.

Every movement was deliberate, and every instruction was precise. He did not waste words, and he did not repeat himself, because he expected me to learn quickly.

"Feet wider," he said. "Do not let them push you off balance."

I adjusted my stance, and he nodded.

It was a small gesture, but it felt like a victory. He had not said anything, but the nod told me I was doing something right.

"Again." He said.

I swung, and he blocked. I swung again, and he dodged. I swung a third time, and he caught my fist in his hand.

"Too slow," he said. "You are telegraphing your strikes."

I gritted my teeth and focused. I had to be faster, and I had to be smarter, because I could not afford to make the same mistake twice.

I pulled my hand back and tried again.

We trained for hours.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and the air grew warmer. Sweat dripped down my face, and my breathing was ragged. But I did not stop. I could not stop.

My muscles ached, and my knuckles bled, but I did not stop. I could not stop, because I had a mother to save, and I needed to be ready.

Every punch I threw, and every block I made, was for her. I imagined her face, her voice, and her hands reaching out to me. And I pushed myself harder.

Cain was relentless, and he did not go easy on me, and he did not praise me. He just pushed me, again and again.

There was no mercy in his training, and no room for weakness. He was preparing me for the worst, and I was grateful for it.

"Again."

"Again."

"Again."

He ordered me constantly.

I swung until my arms burned, I blocked until my shoulders screamed, and I moved until my legs gave out beneath me.

I hit the ground hard, and for a moment, I did not think I could get up. But then I thought of my mother, and I forced myself to my feet.

And then I got back up. ℯ

When I finally landed a clean hit, the corner of his mouth twitched.

It was not a powerful blow, but it was accurate. I had seen the opening, and I had taken it.

I had also never seen him show any emotion before, and the small twitch of his lips felt like a triumph.