and discuss their dreams and aspirations.
In this monotonous and crude camp, ideals were the only pure thing that could comfort the rookies,
and it was their persistence in pursuing these ideals that kept them going.
There were indeed some rookies who thought about backing out,
but then they considered that it would mean letting an officer kick them in a certain part, a price too high to pay.
It was under these circumstances that Blazing Paradise and Wanderer never gave up on their dream of joining the Fighter Corps.
Blazing Paradise wielded his battle blade and spear with such skill that he could almost match the officers in combat.
Wanderer, on the other hand, was no slouch with a one-handed sword and was absolutely masterful with the longbow.
So much so that the officers often took them to compete against rookies from other teams,
winning themselves a good amount of silver coins and holidays.
However, their treatment did not change as a result.
Half a year was almost over, and Blazing Paradise and Wanderer had gradually matured.
The naive expressions no longer frequently appeared on their faces.
The reason was simple—because the Fighter Corps did not want the useless, and in the barracks,
naivety was often equated with being useless.
One afternoon.
Blazing Paradise and Wanderer noticed some officers dressed differently from their superiors wandering around the training ground.
They didn't talk much, just stood quietly by and watched the rookies train.
They stood with their arms crossed, their gazes sharp yet their expressions serene.
The officers became even more stringent, pulling out their most promising rookies from the ranks to drill,
their whips lashing back and forth like circus trainers, only without the bear leashes to lead the rookies around for coins.
This was because on the left side of these officers' chests hung various shapes of silver badges—these were the symbols of the Fighter Corps,
and the undermanned Fighter Corps had come to the training camp to select recruits!
The rookies in the training camp were like foals seeing the vast prairie for the first time, completely exhilarated,
each one rubbing their hands together, all thinking about how to neatly and impressively take down their opponents.
Yes, it was not just about toppling the adversary,
but doing so in a clean, efficient, and aesthetically pleasing manner—because the Fighter Corps did not tolerate mediocrity!
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