Warrior Training System

It had been a day since Cassian and the others decided to hide some of their powers, and it was proving harder than they'd imagined. Holding back in fights wasn't easy when the opponents weren't weak. Cassian had grown adept at taking down groups of fairies with ease, but the clones of the Examinees were another story entirely. Each encounter was a brutal struggle, testing their limits in ways that made restraint feel like a dangerous gamble.

But the battles weren't the only issue. The group faced an even greater threat: the fake ones sneaking into their ranks. These doppelgangers were disturbingly convincing, blending in so seamlessly that no one could tell until it was too late. And then—buzzinga—another head would roll, leaving the group in chaos and pushing their already strained trust to its breaking point.

Yet, paradoxically, the constant threat also brought the survivors closer. Fear forced them to rely on one another, and in their desperation, they began to share things they'd otherwise keep hidden. Secrets, quirks, and tiny details—anything that could help identify the real ones if the situation demanded it.

Cassian and the other three, who could now genuinely be called friends, stuck together. Their bond, forged in fear and necessity, gave them a fragile sense of unity. As they moved cautiously through the labyrinth-like terrain, Larick broke the tense silence.

"You know," Larick said, glancing at the others with a wry smile, "if this keeps up, I'm gonna start missing those ugly fairies. At least they didn't try to chat us up before ripping our heads off."

"I think Cassian didn't mind that part," Amina added with a smirk, her eyes glinting mischievously. Selene nodded in agreement, her expression amused, as Cassian's face flushed with embarrassment.

The reason for his reaction wasn't lost on them. He'd had a very close call with one of the clones recently—hence the fresh slash across his armor.

The real source of his embarrassment, though, was the fact that the clone had chatted him up for an unnervingly long time, acting so convincingly normal that it led to... a kiss.

The memory made his cheeks burn hotter. Right after the kiss, he'd felt a knife in his back. Of course, it hadn't been a big deal—he'd killed the beautiful girl clone easily enough—but the whole situation had been downright embarrassing.

Their conversation was abruptly cut short by a piercing shriek from a nearby group. The four of them snapped to attention, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons as they rushed toward the commotion.

Their conversation was cut short by a sudden, blood-curdling shriek from a group just off to their side. Instinctively, they turned toward the commotion, only to see a girl collapsing to the ground, a sword stabbed through her back. Standing over her was someone who looked exactly like Larick.

Cassian, Amina, and Selene immediately turned to the real Larick, who stared back at them, wide-eyed and just as confused. "What the hell?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before they could process the situation, the others in the group sprang into action, charging at the fake Larick with weapons drawn. The real Larick took a cautious step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, just so we're clear—that's not me," he said, his tone defensive but steady.

Cassian nodded, keeping an eye on both Larick and the chaos unfolding in front of them. "We know. Stay back."

The group had already established some ground rules to deal with situations like this, and one of the most important was simple: don't fight your own doppelganger. It made things easier for everyone else to identify the real one and avoid unnecessary confusion.

The fake Larick fought back fiercely, its movements eerily similar to the real Larick's. Every swing, every step—it was like watching a twisted mirror image. Amina gritted her teeth, gripping her weapon tightly. "This is why we made that rule," she muttered. "Can you imagine if Larick jumped in right now? Total chaos."

Selene nodded, her sharp eyes fixed on the fight. "Yeah, but it's still unnerving. That thing moves just like him."

Cassian's jaw tightened as he watched. "It's more than unnerving. They're getting better at this."

Larick stayed back as instructed, his expression a mix of frustration and unease. "I'm just saying, it's creepy as hell watching someone who looks like me murder people. Can we wrap this up before it gets any weirder?"

The fake Larick was finally overwhelmed, brought down by the relentless efforts of several fighters working together. It hit the ground with a heavy thud, its body crumpling in a way that was unsettlingly human. For a moment, it just lay there, looking no different from an actual person—its chest still, its limbs awkwardly sprawled. The blood pooling around it was a vivid red, indistinguishable from that of the real Larick or anyone else.

It was only when the group hesitantly approached that the unsettling truth became apparent. There was no monstrous transformation, no sign of its inhuman origin—just the haunting image of what could have been one of their own. It looked too real, too perfect, making it even harder to shake the unease that lingered in the air.

They had seen plenty of these things before and killed a fair share themselves, but every time, it felt disturbingly like killing real humans. Cassian, however, didn't let the unease linger too long. He stretched his arms, glancing at the motionless body on the ground, and said with a smirk, "Let's take a break... and crack this one open too."

Turning toward Larick, who was still looking unsettled, he added with a teasing grin, "Wanna give me a hand?"

Larick grimaced, visibly disgusted by the idea of dissecting something that looked exactly like him. He shook his head firmly. "What's left to open? It's already half dissected," he said, motioning to the clone's body, which was riddled with deep wounds from the fight.

He wasn't wrong. The doppelganger's body was a mess—slashed, broken, and torn in places. But Cassian wasn't deterred. He crouched beside it, his curiosity burning brighter than his discomfort. He was determined to find something—anything—that could give them answers.

How could these clones look so real? How could they mimic domains, an ability so rare and intricate that even powerful mages couldn't replicate it? Who or what had created something this advanced?

Moreover, he was determined to find out whether the domains these clones wielded were genuine or merely clever imitations designed to mimic the real thing.

Being the only one in the group with some knowledge of how the human body worked—thanks to his experience with massage techniques—Cassian had taken it upon himself to dissect the clones whenever they killed another one. At first, the process had been frustrating and unsettling. His early attempts didn't reveal much beyond the obvious: these things were disturbingly human-like in appearance.

By the fourth or fifth dissection, however, Cassian began noticing subtle differences between real humans and the clones. For one, their skin was surprisingly tough—far tougher than even that of seasoned Circle Warriors, who trained their bodies to endure harsh combat. Their bones were also unnaturally strong, far beyond what any human could achieve naturally.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

These observations, while fascinating, didn't offer any immediate answers. But Cassian kept at it, driven by curiosity and the need for answers. Eventually, his persistence paid off. As he examined the clones more closely, he discovered tiny, intricate carvings etched into their bones—runes and symbols that seemed to pulse faintly with latent energy.

"There it is..." Cassian muttered, leaning closer to inspect the fake Larick's bones. His voice carried a mix of fascination and grim satisfaction as he pointed at the carvings. "Look, this one's bones have the same markings. See here?"

Selene, who had been assisting him with the dissection, leaned in to get a better look. Her sharp eyes studied the intricate patterns carefully. "Yeah... so it's confirmed," she said, her tone laced with unease. "They really are created with magic. These carvings must be what's giving them their strength—and maybe even their ability to mimic domains."

Cassian nodded thoughtfully, resuming the dissection. As he worked, a flicker of confusion crossed his face. "Speaking of these clones' domains," he began, his voice uncertain, "are they really domains? When I fight them and try to force my domain onto theirs, it feels... different."

Selene paused, her brow furrowing as she recalled her own encounters with the clones. After a moment, she nodded in agreement, her expression mirroring his confusion. "Yeah, I've noticed that too. Their domains feel like cold, hard walls—completely impenetrable. It's strange. Real Circle Warriors' domains always have distinct... sensations. Some feel sharp, like they'll cut you to pieces. Others are heavy, like they'll crush you. But the clones' domains..." She trailed off, her gaze fixed on the markings etched into the clone's bones.

"They mimic the original person's intent," Selene continued, her voice quiet, "but not their feelings. It's like the will of the domain is missing."