War God for Hire- Gladiator by David Burke (books under 200 pages .TXT) 📕

to track his progress. Hilde would laugh at him in those moments and remind him that this wasn’t a game.

After agility, they focused on his durability. That usually consisted of simple matches with multiple trainers using blunt weapons to beat him black and blue while he practiced footwork and dodging amidst the inevitable bruising he took. Or it might be him beating away with weapons or even his fists against obstacles to toughen his grip and experience what real impact felt like.

Some of his least favorite training was reaction training. Kyle was nowhere near as quick as Kierra, who could dodge and twist in the air, all while plucking arrows from the air in midflight with her hands. Instead, for him, it consisted of things like holding his hand out on a board while trying to move it fast enough to avoid having it smashed by a wooden mallet.

Kyle hadn’t broken any bones yet, and honestly his bones seemed to be harder than stone, but he definitely had multiple bruises. That did, however, lead to a pleasant surprise. His heightened constitution was good for more than just taking a blow; it also meant that he healed more quickly, remarkably so. A cut to his flesh might not close up before an onlooker’s eyes, but wounds that would have taken days or even weeks to heal from back home would be healed in minutes or, at worst, a couple of hours.

He didn’t really see the other fighters other than at lunch. Oh sure, he saw them working out in various parts of the arena under the guidance of the trainers assigned them. Everyone was working hard, but that only motivated Kyle to push harder. There was no way that he was gonna be outdone because he didn’t try the hardest.

Many of the days blurred into one another, but there were a few that stuck out in his memory. The first of those was the day that they were finally required to try the poles course.

Each day, Kyle had been staring at the poles. The pattern they formed on the arena floor took up only a small section of the overall space, but the thirty-foot-high poles had a way of capturing his attention. More than one of the fighters had brought up the question of what they would be used for. Kyle was pretty sure he knew, but equally sure that he wasn’t ready. Just because he could survive a thirty-foot fall, didn’t mean that it was any fun.

Then the day came when Saber gleefully told them that it was time for a little group training. The one who lasted atop the poles for the longest time would win a bottle of alcohol of their preferences. The one with the shortest time, would go without dinner.

 Kyle personally didn’t care about the beverage. The water, with occasional milk and juice, they fed him was sufficient, and that was not even factoring in that he’d learned his body didn’t require much food to live. Hunger and his desire to consume food seemed to be more about the habit and the pleasure of eating. Hilde assured him that, since his body was only a construct made by his divine soul, he could easily live without eating.

Of course, when had winning ever been about the prize for him? To him, victory was the prize. Second place was only the first loser. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the accolades, trophies, and bonuses. It was more that those were secondary considerations for him. He competed for himself. Others were just beneficiaries of the show he put on.

Saber called out once the fighters were all gathered around. “Skrug won’t be participating. He is simply too big to make it work. He will be elsewhere today. But the six of you all need to learn to master this.”

He then pointed up as one of the trainers shimmied up a corner pole. Once on the top, he demonstrated leaping from pole to pole. The two-foot diameter poles didn’t seem very wide when he jumped rapidly from one to the next. Each pole was only five feet from the edge of the other, but it was still too much for a comfortable step.

Saber continued, “Now that would be too easy, of course. Laughably so for some of you. To make things more interesting, there will be a group of trainers around the perimeter, throwing everything from rocks to discs to spears at you. If you start getting really good, we might start shooting arrows at you. And if you somehow manage to make it past the two-minute mark up there, then I believe the mages have some surprises for you. So, who wants to go first?”

No one immediately volunteered, but many of the eyes went to Kierra. She was clearly the one favored to win this. Kyle wasn’t worried about going first but would prefer to see how it looked in action before formulating his plan. Finally, when no one else volunteered but everyone kept glancing at her, the lycan finally growled, “Pathetic, not one of you men will go first. Fine. Let the woman show you how it’s done.”

Then she latched onto the wooden pole with the claws that served as her fingernails. To say that she climbed up would be a bit of a misnomer. She almost bounded up the pole, pulling with her arms and pushing with her legs, only to latch onto a spot ten feet further up. A trio of rapid bounds like that had her standing on the top of the pole.

Saber called out, “Ready. Set. Begin.”

Sure enough, rocks, circular discs that spun through the air like heavy frisbees, and even a couple spears were all thrown at her. She made it seem effortless, though. For a full minute, she leapt and flipped her way around the top of the columns just as though she were on flat ground. Most of the time, the projectiles never even got close, although a few times she simply