Today, I turned nine years old.
My companions and I agreed to go eat at the marketplace.
It’s good to take a break from training now and then and have some fun.
At least, that’s what I believe after a year of hard work.
A year in which our progress was enormous, not only physically but mentally as well.
Thanks to the training chambers, we improved considerably in the First Form of combat.
Each chamber had different difficulty levels.
For those aspiring to become Apprentices, there was Level 1.
It contained two droids that coordinated their movements to fire stun laser bolts from different angles, though the patterns were not overly complex.
They were small, about forty centimeters tall, and capable of hovering.
They could move at different speeds and increase or decrease their rate of fire depending on the configuration.
To reach the rank of Competent, there were Levels 2 and 3, where apprentices faced three and five droids respectively.
These droids were faster and varied their attack rhythm, unlike those in Level 1, which were more predictable.
Most of the younger warriors were training there.
Warriors seeking to advance the First Form to the Advanced rank used Level 4.
There, ten droids appeared, far more accurate and capable of coordinating simultaneous attacks.
One day, after training, my aunt decided to teach us about the clan’s hierarchy.
Apparently, she had forgotten to explain it earlier, even though it was basic knowledge.
Better late than never.
The hierarchy was divided into five levels.
The first was the Blood Cubs.
Children began their training at the age of five.
We learned basic fundamentals and strengthened our bodies until the age of eight, when we started training with spears and bows.
We were also taught the First Form of the Spear of Fenrir:
Fenrir’s Instinct.
An essential defensive technique for survival that we would practice until the age of ten.
As for the bow, advanced techniques were not taught yet.
We only practiced accuracy against stationary targets.
Later, the best students would be selected for specialized training.
I believed Ali would make it.
She was the best archer among us.
I was good too…
But I had my Haki.
Sometimes it felt a little like cheating.
If we managed to pass the final test—a real hunt—we would become Fierce Fangs, the second rank.
Not everyone passed, but those who failed could try again the following year.
After passing the test, only the most outstanding candidates were chosen to enter the Wolf Cave and obtain a companion.
The wolf’s father or mother had to consider you worthy.
Only with their approval could a true bond be formed.
Wolves were not simple hunting beasts or weapons of war.
They were brothers.
Lifelong companions.
The clan’s totem and the legacy of our ancestors.
Anyone who obtained a wolf was recognized as a Great Fierce Fang.
They still belonged to the second rank, but stood above the others.
This rank generally covered the period from ten to twenty years of age.
Between the ages of ten and twelve, they learned the Second Form of the Spear of Fenrir:
Fenrir’s Fury.
A fast and ferocious offensive technique designed to overwhelm enemies with a relentless barrage of strikes.
During the first months, they also strengthened their bond with their wolf before teaching it to hunt and fight alongside them.
Between thirteen and fifteen years of age, specialization began.
Some chose blacksmithing.
Others entered the droid workshop, the starship hangar, the farms, the hunting groups, or the village guard.
This was beneficial for the clan, since each of these professions contributed greatly to its growth.
Great Fierce Fangs could forge their first spear with a beskar tip or another durable material.
They could also craft protective gear for their wolves, such as chainmail capable of shielding them from blaster fire and wild beasts.
I had never seen my mother’s wolf wearing armor.
I assumed they only used it during wartime.
Although I remembered seeing several wolves from the hunting group wearing silver-blue chainmail that shimmered as if they carried winter upon their backs.
I really liked that design.
Those who chose to continue along the warrior’s path could aspire to become Dark Wolf Guardians, the third rank.
Reaching it was difficult, since it required passing a trial that could prove fatal.
Teams were formed consisting of five Fierce Fangs and one Guardian as their leader.
Between the ages of fifteen and twenty, the Guardian taught them the Third Form of the spear:
Fenrir’s Ambush.
A technique of precision and patience that exploited an enemy’s blind spots to deliver a decisive strike.
Above the Guardians stood the Abyss Wolf Lords, the fourth rank.
They were the clan’s most powerful commanders.
Currently, there were only three:
My aunt.
My mother.
And the elderly woman from the farm.
The old woman from the farm was not merely a farmer.
In her youth, she had been one of the most feared warriors in the clan.
That surprised me more than I expected.
Hearing their names in that context felt different.
They were pillars of the main bloodline.
They were the reason Fen’ruus still stood.
From childhood, we were taught who we were.
Not through stories.
Not through promises.
Through discipline.
Through courage.
Because Fen’ruus was not merely a clan.
It was heritage.
It was darkness.
It was Chaos.
Heirs of the endless night.
Destroyers of destiny.
We are Fen’ruus.
“Now I will speak of the final rank,” my aunt said, pulling me back to reality.
The atmosphere changed.
Only our founding ancestor had ever reached that level:
The Alpha of Chaos.
To attain that rank, strength and intelligence were not enough.
It was necessary to forge a bond with your wolf that transcended everything known.
Something that had been lost with time.
Silence surrounded us.
I could only think of one thing.
Could I reach that level someday?
My aunt looked at me as if she had read my thoughts.
“Don’t think too much about it. You’re still Blood Cubs. Advance steadily. To go beyond, you’ll need something that only you can discover.”
Then she turned away.
“Now go home. Tomorrow, an infernal training session awaits us.”
I said goodbye to my companions and walked toward home.
Before leaving the training grounds, I stopped and looked at the horizon.
The sun was slowly setting.
A warm breeze brushed against my face.
I still had a long road ahead of me.
In this new life, there would be no regrets.
I turned around and continued forward.
This time…
With a clearer goal.