Oblivion Heavy Armor Training Novels & Stories

Sky nodded, though deep inside she still felt the weight of yesterday's exercises. The general's stern expression, the danger zones marked on the map, the detailed briefings about the Shadow Realm's spy activity-all of it weighed heavily on her mind. For the first time, she truly felt she was not just a trainee, but a warrior-a real part of this war. After breakfast, the selected team-Sky, Abigail, Damian, Nathaniel, Faith, and George-gathered at the weapons tents to receive their personalized gear. Sky was given a lightweight but durable dark leather armor that didn't hinder her movements, and a curved-blade sword that fit her hand perfectly.

I always thought it was a charming title for such a place. The training we endured was indeed a journey racked with pain and suffering. A day of was started by running through a dense forest in a very short amount of time. Through the ordeal, we would be wearing full armor, from uniform tunic and chain mail shirt to plate armor so heavy it could stop most weapons. After that it was fighting, then formations, command terms, engineering. But through all that were the Lanistaes, screaming orders and mercilessly beating anyone who dared to show any signs of slowing down. Finally at the end of the day everyone had to hit the firing range, all in formation and under the watch of a Lanistae of cour

Neither Mom nor Dad spared me a backward glance. From that day onward, I learned to stand on my own two feet. I had to take care of myself. I was only six years old when I faced the loneliness, the danger, and the helplessness of life on my own. I forced myself to be strong and resilient. I forced myself to be independent. I made sure to build a tough armor around myself to protect myself from harm. My armor was close to perfect during my childhood and teenage years. However, on the night of my 18th birthday, the first crack started to form in my carefully-crafted armor.

The Black Bishop seemed shocked and responded, "You knew about Light Valley, and you have the Light Gloves. The Light Armor has finally appeared. Shouldn't you be happy about that? The Light Armor is from the middle dimension, after all. It's an armor created by the power of the universe's law from the middle dimension. It's almost impervious to all damage from the lower dimension. If you have the Light Armor, that's akin to gaining invincibility. No one can defeat you." Wilbur desired the Light Armor. However, he knew that nothing ever came free in life. The Black Bishop stole his bronze cauldron to talk to him about finding the Light Armor in Wearson Valley, so he was afraid that he would

The morning sun had barely broken over the frosted peaks of the Shadow Ridge, but the sounds of metal clashing against metal rang loud in the lower courtyard. Under Garrick’s watchful eye, fifty former outcasts—now clad in polished shadow-iron armor forged from Ironclaw steel—were undergoing intense combat drills. Where once stood broken, starving wolves who had lost their pack bonds, there was now a disciplined vanguard. Ariana stood on the stone battlements above, watching the training. Silas walked up to her side, carrying a wooden tray with two cups of mulled cider.

Zuberi growls under his breath, typing another message with aggressive thumps of his small fingers. She is putting the armor on right now! He is picking her up at dusk! If you don't show your face at the Eclipse Den, I am personally helping the Northern Lord pack her bags! While Zuberi fumes in the corner, I step behind the dressing screen and fasten the moon-iron scales over my torso. The armor molds perfectly to my body, light as a second skin yet tough enough to stop a broadhead arrow. The flared silver greaves trail down like a sea-serpent’s tail, catching every flicker of the torchlight.

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did without question. When my wealthy biological parents finally brought me home, my adopted sister leaned close and whispered arrogantly, "I'm the one and only Saunders daughter. If you know what's good for you, leave on your own!" I obediently nodded. Then I turned around and ran straight into the traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. They scrambled out of the car and dragged me back, their faces already pale with terror. My brother glared at me and warned in a low voice, "If you keep acting like this, I'll send you back to that hellhole." That night, I obediently locked myself inside a dog crate. When he fo

If we were to survive a high altitude assault from the Capital High Command’s aerial dreadnoughts, these two contrasting forces had to function as a single, flawless unit. Standing on the central stone dais overlooking the training ring, Gideon and I observed the regimented chaos. Gideon wore his full dark leather combat gear, his broadsword strapped across his back, his sharp amber eyes analyzing every stance, pivot, and shield angle across the floor. Beside him, I wore light silver trimmed riding leather, my royal white wildfire humming at a low, controlled baseline beneath my skin.

The power in my thighs and core helped me hold firm during shield wall drills, earning approving nods from the seasoned warriors who watched our sessions. Leif, ever the strategist, focused on agility and battlefield awareness. He taught me how to read the subtle shifts in an opponent’s posture, how to use the uneven terrain of the northern lands to gain advantage, and how to anticipate moves before they happened. His lessons were sharp and precise, much like his own fighting style, and they challenged my mind as much as my body. Erik brought a lighter touch to the training, turning drills into games filled with laughter and unexpected challenges. His wild energy kept the sessions from becom

"He sent a bird an hour ago. His scouts have spotted movements in the high fog. They aren't the mindless alchemical constructs we fought in the dirt, Natalia. These are organized. Things clad in armor made of dark star-matter. They’re testing our parameters, searching for any weak point in the grid." Natalia looked back over her shoulder at the sprawling city of Oakhaven spread out peacefully below the bastion. The change was miraculous. The lower wards were clean, their solid brick houses neatly arranged around public stone wells and open green plazas. The grand palace ruins in the upper district had been completely transformed into a massive garrison training yard. Down below, thousands of