Chương 30: [LD-1] 29. Training

XXIX Training Alexa smiled.

"So, you want to get better at using your weapon?" I nodded.

"I'm certain that doing so will increase my life expectancy tenfold."

"Of that," she chuckled, taking a seat on the other side of me, "you don't need to convince me. The first lesson the school teaches neophytes is to not rely only on their magic abilities. You always need a plan for when you run out of mana." The student council president took her blade in her lap and rotated to face me.

"Before I touch on your specific weapon, I'll begin by telling what my father told me."

"The headmaster?"

"Nowadays, he's known as the grumpy and strict principal. But he's a veteran of the Second Push." The Second Push… that's the war fought to reclaim Guardia from an invasion of demi-humans. From what I heard, a dungeon had spawned in the wild and been uncovered too late. The beasts assaulted the city and killed almost everyone. It was called the Second Push because the first failed miserably. More than half of the Mageocracy's troops had died during the assault.

The second would've been an equal failure if it wasn't for the efforts of war heroes such as Sky-splitter Julius. My expression must've darkened while thinking of the losses.

"Yes," Alexa said.

"That war. Needless to say, my father was a harsh taskmaster. He droned me incessantly. Had me train until the grooves on my blade's hilt cut the skin on my hand." I paused…and swallowed. That wasn't quite how I imagined weapon training to go.

"Isn't that counter-intuitive?" I asked with a bit of a laugh.

"How are you supposed to swing your weapon if your hands get hurt?"

"You learn to push through the pain." Here, the President grinned and stroked her blade, like she was reliving a pleasant memory. A lump went down my throat. Had I made a mistake? Had I led myself to my own grave by asking this woman for help? Alexa put her blade away.

"However, though he pushed me physically, the first thing Father taught me was not how to strike, but a philosophy. A goal that all your actions in combat must bring you closer to."

"A goal?" Her grin widened. She paused to lean in closer, then whispered in my ear: " Murder." The stress put on that term penetrated my skull and burrowed into my brain, where it lay root like a parasite. She pulled back and sat up straight.

"Every breath, every slash of the blade must push you forward on the path of taking the life of your enemy in the most efficient and safest manner possible—while simultaneously preventing the enemy from killing you." Her gaze locked me in place.

"Grasp that principle, and you'll know all there is to know about combat." I tasted the bitter nature of her words. Murder…my mind went back to that night that already felt like a lifetime ago—when a hateful woman had sent me to the afterlife. That, too, was combat. And that was the goal of every conflict? My lips pursed.

'I'm not sure if that's me.' Despite figuring out that I was a Nox and had powers related to death, underneath it all, I was merely a girl the rest of society had cast out. Could I really be a stone-cold killer? Of course you can, Master! Kil spoke in my mind. He had kept quiet during Alexa's spiel because his favourite human was playing with him.

'Thanks,' I sighed. But I doubted it. Don't sell yourself short, Master. If killing is the core of combat, who better than a Reaper to deliver it? On that front, I supposed, he was right. Alexa reached forward and drew me out of my thoughts.

"Can I see your weapon?" This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. I handed Cull to her. She lightly tossed it to test the weight.

"The craftmanship on this thing…how is this a beginner class weapon?"

"…I'm not certain it is." Her eyes found me.

'Well, shit.' How was I going to skirt around this? I licked my lips.

"There are times where it…shows me things? I'm not sure how to explain it."

"Showing you things?" I nodded.

"Like it's telling me what to do." Her right hand cupper her chin.

"Do you hear a voice as well?" My mouth opened—'No,' I wanted to say right away. But that wasn't true, was it?

"Does a melody count?" I asked.

"I thought it was humming once." Her eyes bulged beneath her spectacles.

"I cannot believe it. Your weapon has a voice?"

"Voice?"

"It's the soul of your weapon. The physical aspect—" she lifted Cull "—is merely the representation in the real world. Much like we have a soul sea, and a body." A sharp breath slipped past my lips.

"Weapons have souls, too?"

"All of them. Though some are more defined than others. A low-grade weapon might have one, but you'll never hear its voice. It's too weak."

"Then what can I do to 'hear' it better?" Whatever the weapon was saying, I wanted to know. It'd helped me every time.

"I don't know," she shook her head.

"I only know that weapons have them. Had my father been here, he would've been able to help you." Understandable. The concept she was speaking of was probably something a neophyte shouldn't even dare dreaming of.

'I'd have to figure it out on my own.' Alexa refastened her hold on the haft, holding the weapon with even more reverence than she already was. Though a shine ran through her glasses, her facial muscles relaxed.

"Your weapon is definitely amazing. You should be thankful that this is your class weapon."

"But?" She searched for the right words.

"A scythe is not very practical." I bit the inside of my mouth.

"It has a stigma of being a farmer's last defence, does it not?" She nodded.

"The orientation of the blade, the sharp edge on the concave instead of the convex—though yours is sharp enough to be double-edged—and the general unwieldiness. I can keep on naming things."

"Please don't," I said.

"I'll cry." A chuckle.

"Don't worry, those limitations are only detrimental to mortals. Sorcerers can use skills to turn weaknesses into strengths." Standing up and distancing herself, she twirled the blade, handling it like she'd been using it for years.

"Your biggest strength is your range. You move the haft and manipulate the weight, letting the head and rotation do the work. Use it well, and any opponent will have a hard time moving in on you." We walked to a secluded spot in the cafeteria near the wizened garden.

"I'll show you a few techniques I think you may be able to use. You'll practice them before turning in for the night." It'd been afternoon when we arrived in the dungeon, which meant it was late in the evening now. A fact visible in the dungeon itself—only darkness and shreds of moonlight filtered through the windowpanes, leaving the only source of light the moss clinging to the walls. She showed me three moves. A low, sweeping attack that hunted for the legs—something I hadn't even thought of doing until now.

Another that turned a downward strike into a feint, then reversed into an upward sweep. Lastly, one that used the butt of the scythe instead of the head, a strike that resembled that of a spear. In addition, she also showed me how to turn those three strikes into a quick block that used Cull's shaft to catch whatever weapon was coming my way.

"Alright," I said, my brain on the edge of bursting.

"How many times am I supposed to perform these?"

"We need you well-rested for tomorrow," she said, "so we'll keep it at three hundred." My head tilted.

"Three hundred…in total, you mean, right?" It sounded like a lot, but she'd essentially taught me six moves if I included the methods of turning offensive ones into defensive ones. That was fifty swings per move…honestly, that sounded like too little, no? Maybe—"Don't try to take the easy way out," she said.

"You'll need to drill the moves into your body for you to even dream of using them in combat. Three hundred for each manoeuvre. It's only eighteen-hundred, not even two thousand, so I'm letting you off light." A polite chuckle exited my throat.

'Only eighteen-hundred…' The President didn't care about what I thought. She smiled, then headed for the centre of the cafeteria to set up a watch rotation among the students. I sighed.

"You did it to yourself." Cull rose into the air and came down in the way Alexa showed me. Nice one, Master! Kil shouted. The Great Kil is certain you'll be a menace to those goblins tomorrow! Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I raised my blade again. I groaned as my head rose off my bag, which I was using as a cushion. I didn't remember falling asleep. What I did know was the pain roaring through every muscle. It was no longer an ache or a burn, but a dagger pushing its way into my cells.

'This is fucked up.' She wanted me to do this every day? My gaze pierced the darkness. Tired to find the evildoer who'd condemned me to this fate. I immediately locked onto the near the entrance. Three people were sitting around the fire: Lily, Alexa, and a boy I didn't recognise. Kil was hovering near them. He didn't need sleep, so I'd told him to help every shift keep watch. My head fell back onto my bag.

'I don't want to move.' But this was the best opportunity I was going to get to let the others know of what Kiba and I had seen. So I dragged myself to my feet. The trio looked up as I shuffled into view.

"Good evening, Master!" Kil said.

"Good evening," I mumbled, hiding a wince as I did. Alexa shot me a knowing smile.

"Hurts, doesn't it? Moving will lessen the pain."

"That sounds counter-intuitive," I said.

"But it works," Lily said.

"Are you sure you want to be up, though? Sleep helps you recover." I collected my breath. For a long moment. Alexa shifted in her seat and faced me more fully.

"Something the matter?" My hand went to my arm and rubbed. The fire heated the side of my limb. Though the feeling was comfortable, my mind was anything but.

"Can I…speak to the two of you for a second? Alone, if possible." The two sisters glanced at each other.

"Sure…" Alexa said.

"Will you be fine on your own, Damien?" The boy yawned and nodded at the same time.

"The eyeball will be enough company to keep me awake."

"Eyeball?" Kil snarled.

"Watch how you address me, supplicant!" Damien waved him away. The three of us retreated to one of the lunch benches. Moonlight touched the table. Together with the light from the campfire, we could barely see where we were sitting. I did not speak up immediately, which made the sisters glance at each other again.

"Is this about Kiba?" Alexa asked.

"He returned very late in the evening," Lily whispered.

"He's sleeping upstairs." Away from everyone else.

"I'm aware," I said.

"I briefly woke up when he entered." I didn't know how. It was as if I'd sensed him coming into the room in the middle of sleeping.

"Then what is it?" Alexa frowned.

"You're making me worried."

"You should be," I said. And then I told them of the darkness that awaited us.