Ruthless Training

When Capen woke, he found himself in a dimly lit cell.

The surroundings were dark, and the stench of decay lingered in his nostrils.

He grimaced as he sat up. That final burst of Ancient Magic had nearly drained every last drop of his power. He was now covered in wounds and utterly listless.

His wand had been taken away, and he had been captured. It seemed that spell had not completely defeated their opponents.

Capen sighed, narrowed his eyes as he looked outside, and called softly, "Milani?"

A familiar voice came from nearby. "Capen? Capen, you're awake? Thank goodness..."

Hearing his friend's voice, Capen breathed a sigh of relief. At least the two of them were all right.

Then another voice spoke up. It was Bram, whom Capen knew well. "Shh, keep it down, Capen—the moment those people hear anything, they'll come in to check. You'd better keep pretending you're badly injured."

"Why?" Capen asked, puzzled.

Though Bram sounded dejected, there was a trace of lingering shock in his voice. "I passed out back then. I only woke up when they brought me in here, and I heard them say that your final spell injured all of them. Two of them probably can't even be saved—if they find out you're awake, they'll definitely come after you. Haven't you noticed your clothes are all wet? They splashed you with water earlier, but you didn't wake up."

Only then did Capen notice that he was soaked through. He gave a bitter smile. The spell he had used with all his strength had failed to drive off every enemy, and now it had become the reason they were targeting him.

A great many people were locked inside the cells. Clearly, they had been utterly defeated, and the rescue they had imagined had