On the fourth morning, the overseers called the boys into lines. The yard filled with dust and tension as rods smacked against shields to silence the chatter. One of the scarred veterans barked:
"From today, you fight not as boys but as squads. Six to a line. A wall stands or falls together."
Leonidas was shoved into a group with five others. He straightened, sweat already trickling down his back, and let the System flicker across his vision.
[Squad Assignment Confirmed]
Nikandros – Strength: 7 | Agility: 5 | Intelligence: 4 | Endurance: 6 | Potential: B
Doros – Strength: 6 | Agility: 4 | Intelligence: 5 | Endurance: 7 | Potential: B+
Theron – Strength: 5 | Agility: 6 | Intelligence: 6 | Endurance: 5 | Potential: SSS
Kyros – Strength: 4 | Agility: 5 | Intelligence: 5 | Endurance: 4 | Potential: C+
Lysander – Strength: 5 | Agility: 3 | Intelligence: 4 | Endurance: 5 | Potential: C
Leonidas – Strength: 2 | Agility: 3 | Intelligence: 8 | Endurance: 2 | Potential: A
Leonidas hid his reaction as his gaze lingered on Theron. Outwardly, the boy looked ordinary—quiet, with sharp eyes and a steady stance—but the glowing marker of SSS Potential was like a spear through the fog. If honed, Theron could become something extraordinary. No one else here could see it. For now, Leonidas would keep that secret.
Nikandros broke his thoughts with a sneer. "Wonderful. The peasant drags us down." He spat in the dirt. Doros grunted but said nothing, adjusting his shield strap. Kyros and Lysander exchanged nervous glances, unsure whether to mock Leonidas or simply avoid being noticed. Theron only gave Leonidas a brief, unreadable look before tightening his grip on his spear.
"Form ranks!" the overseer roared.
Shields slammed together, the six boys forming a rough line. Leonidas nearly collapsed under the weight of his shield, his malnourished arms straining. The wood pressed into his shoulder like a slab of stone. His body screamed weakness, but his mind stayed sharp.
The drill began.
They marched across the yard, feet pounding dust. Overseers stalked alongside, eyes sharp for mistakes. When the order to attack came, the squad surged forward toward a row of battered dummies.
Nikandros lunged too far, overcommitting. Kyros's shield dipped low. Doros stomped with heavy steps, wasting energy. Theron hesitated just a heartbeat, as if measuring the others. Leonidas himself nearly faltered as the shield dragged at his arm.
The formation broke apart.
A rod cracked across Leonidas's back with a sickening snap. Pain jolted through him, almost dropping him to his knees. The overseer's roar followed: "Pathetic! An enemy phalanx would have gutted you where you stood!"
The squad staggered back, gasping. Nikandros rounded on him instantly, eyes blazing. "This is your fault. You can't even hold a shield upright."
Leonidas gritted his teeth but said nothing. His mind was already replaying the drill—mapping angles, timing, body movements. Nikandros was strong but reckless. Kyros had no discipline in his stance. Doros was sturdy but burned himself out too quickly. Theron… Theron was sharper than the others, but oddly restrained, as though hiding his edge.
The overseer barked again. "Form up! Again!"
This time, Leonidas spoke before they could move. His voice cut through their doubt:
"Tighter! Nikandros, lean back—you're leaving a gap. Kyros, shield higher! Doros, shorten your step—you're wasting strength. Theron, center with me—hold steady. One rhythm, not six."
They hesitated, startled that the peasant dared give orders. But Theron moved first, sliding into place with a small nod, and the others—grudgingly—followed.
The line advanced again. This time, their steps fell into rhythm. The wall tightened. Spears thrust forward in near unison. When they struck the dummies, the sound was a deep, satisfying thud instead of scattered cracks.
The overseer's rod stayed at his side. His gaze lingered on Leonidas for a long moment before he turned away. "Better."
By the time the drill ended, Leonidas's body was trembling, his tunic soaked with sweat, every muscle screaming. But the squad had held. Nikandros glared at him with reluctant respect instead of disdain. Doros gave a short, approving grunt. Kyros and Lysander looked at him differently—still wary, but no longer openly mocking.
Only Theron kept his silence, watching Leonidas with those sharp eyes, as though measuring him in ways the others could not.
That night, as Leonidas lay aching on his reed mat in the smoky barracks, the System pulsed faintly once more:
[First Squad Trial Completed]
[Leadership Potential Detected]
[Squad Cohesion: +3%]
The numbers faded, but Leonidas didn't need them. His mind was already racing. A squad was a wall, and a wall stood strongest when each stone was set properly. These five would be the stones he had to shape.
And Theron… Theron was a diamond buried in the rough, waiting to be revealed.
This was only the beginning.