Ten years later, in his retelling of today's events, Arthur would love to say he’d taken the knight's proclamations in his stride, that he’d moved forwards like monsters talking to him was just another Tuesday. Unfortunately, reality painted a far less flattering picture, and Arthur stood there, mouth open like a fish out of water, his mind blank.

A monster had just talked to him and she had a name! It made him question everything he’d done whilst in the locus. No, that wouldn’t make sense. His senses had clearly told him that this knight was an outlier, the creatures he’d faced thus far had been ordinary constructed monsters. Shaking his head, Arthur focused back on the present. He’d have time to deal with moral conundrums later. As long as he could survive this encounter first.

Issania, as if sensing his confusion, cocked her head to the side in an expression that looked entirely too human. Dressed from head to toe in full-plate armour, a part of Arthur's brain idly noted the expression even looked a little cute, at least as cute as she could look with the deadly aura radiating out of her.

“Ah, you must not know what is going on,” Issania said in realisation. “I am not a monster generated by the locus to test you. I am Issania, a high-elf from Arlo, the Tier-3 central planet of the kingdom of Jorna." She reached up to her helmet and took it off, revealing that she did indeed have pointed ears reminiscent of elves in Earthen fiction. Besides that, the woman was honestly… ordinary in appearance. She was no stunning beauty, nor was she ugly. Issania was decidedly average, so much so that Arthur was certain it was by deliberate choice. After all, it was a known fact that people gravitated towards their ideal form as they progressed along the path of power.

She did have a massive scar cutting through the left side of her face, though Arthur did distinctly remember her saying her father was the scarred one, maybe it was a family thing. Arthur dismissed the thought out of mind and focused on what the woman was saying.

“I was challenging a chaos locus on my homeworld and its final layer sent me here.” She bowed again, this time in apology. “I’m truly sorry for interrupting your challenge like this, but it was out of my control, chaos loci are notorious for their eccentricities. You should be receiving a system notification just about now. My challenge is to teach a sapient a weapon mastery of their choice. I’ll be rewarded according to how much you can learn. Your challenge… well, I’m sure the system is telling you right about now.”

As per her predictions, Arthur received a system ping just as she finished.

Your locus challenge has been interrupted by a tier 3 locus challenge. Challenger Issania [challenger has allowed disclosure of her name and identity] has been transported as a cloned body to mentor you as per her challenge for 5 hours. Your challenge has been adjusted accordingly.

New challenge: you shall be awarded according to how successful you are in a spar with Issania. The locus shall prevent death from occurring and your appearance, identity and levels are protected from observation unless you specify otherwise.

Arthur read through the notification whilst the woman waited patiently on the side. With the stats people had at their level, he’d read the message in a fraction of a second, but she recognised that he’d need some time to digest it. It took him a moment, but he ultimately decided that he was happy with this strange development. Come what may, he was certain he’d gain far more from this woman than he would have fighting an Archon knight.

“Ah, so your task is to spar me,” Issania said, smiling. “The system’s been a little slow with its notifications today. How about this? My stay here is limited to five hours. We’ll set aside the last thirty minutes for your spar. Is that agreeable with you?” She proposed. Arthur inclined his head, yes, and then noticing she didn’t register the movement for one reason or the other- most likely the obfuscation in place- he responded verbally.

“Excellent,” she exclaimed. “Now are you willing to give me your name? If not, please give me something to address you by. Otherwise, our conversations are going to get needlessly strange.”

Arthur briefly debated what to do but eventually settled on a middle ground. Unless she was an incredible actor, the locus was protecting his identity and for good reason too. Loci were supposed to be places you could let loose and grow without fear of any eyes on you. That whole purpose would be broken if a stranger became aware of your abilities. “My surname is Ward. I’d appreciate it if you could call me that going forward.”

It was a common enough name and he doubted it could be used to find him in the future. The nearest Tier-3 planet was thousands, maybe even millions of lightyears away and he doubted she’d be able to locate a single tier-one planet. Locus names seemed to be protected too, so the only way he’d be identified in the future would be by a hodgepodge description of the abilities he displayed in the next few hours, abilities he didn’t even know how to use properly yet.

Yeah, I think this is as hidden as my identity is ever going to be. I’ve already got Lady Sleyca breathing down my neck. There's no point in being so paranoid. Arthur didn’t want to keep his name out of the limelight forever, but he wasn’t ready for the shit show that would start if someone ever got a look at his status page. His soul-affinity alone made him a hot commodity and it wasn’t even the most interesting thing about him. Arthur was pulled out of his musings when Issania clapped her gauntlet hands together.

“Excellent. Mr Ward is a perfectly fine name. You are male, yes! I can't tell your species through the loci’s obscurification but your general proportions suggest you are male. Yes?”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Arthur chuckled and nodded his head. “Yes, I am male. So how will this go? Just to put it out there, but I’ve never really used a weapon before, at least not properly. I’m trained in hand-to-hand combat, but that shouldn’t fulfil the criteria of your test.”

“That’s perfect actually,” Issania replied with a smile. “No training means you’ve got no bad habits to unlearn, you’re a fresh canvas I can work with.” She pointed towards the sword she’d sheathed at her hip. “As you can see, I’m a combatant well-versed in the use of a one-handed sword. Most of the time I use a shield too. Sometimes I go without. I’m equally experienced with a spear, and I’m a decent shot with a long bow though I’d never call myself good.”

She looked pointedly at the misshapen blob in his hands. “I’m not sure what weapon you’re trying to imitate with your skill, but I suggest you dismiss it and save your energy. We’ll be using actual weapons for our training as we don’t have time for you to fine-tune your skill to replicate one. Oh, and my skills are telling me I don’t want to get hit with it even though the loci’s protection guarantees.”

She waved her hand and an array of weapons appeared before her.

A spacial treasure of some sort. Is it a ring? I swear those are ridiculously expensive. Arthur dismissed his soul armaments, sighing at the release in pressure he didn’t even realise the skill was exerting on him. He mentally chided himself for not doing so earlier. Even an idiot would be able to tell he was new to the skill which told Issania a lot more about him than he’d been willing to share. Either he’d just gained a class or upgraded his own at level 200. With his presence in a tier-1 locus, it was clear he was under level 200. You didn’t need to be Sherlock to deduce that he’d just gotten his class.

“The system says this body of yours is a clone. How strong is the real you?” Arthur asked.

She smirked at him. “This replica has been limited to my strength when I was level 199, just before I evolved my class. It’s been decades since I’ve felt so weak. As for the real me, well…depending on how you do in our mock duel I might tell you.” She picked a spear up from the ground and threw it at him. He caught it, just barely, surprised at how heavy it was. Issania had thrown it like it weighed nothing. She shook her head. “That one’s no good. Try this one.” She held another out for him, this time handing it over instead of throwing it and Arthur idly wondered if she’d only done so earlier to get an estimate of his stat distributions. Surely not. That would be an almost scary level of observational prowess. The new spear felt far more comfortable in his grip, even if the craftsmanship didn’t look as good as the heavier one.

“Yeah, this one looks a lot better for your strength stat,” Issania confirmed his suspicions. “A good spear- at least the ones made for all kinds of combat- should be an extension of your limb. Hold it up next to you. No. not like that, rest the butt against the ground.” She stepped back and furrowed her eyebrows. “I’d prefer it be a few inches longer, but I don’t think I have anything better on me.”

Issania walked around him and instructed him to make a series of increasingly complex movements, some with the spear but most without. Whether or not she was happy with the movements he displayed he wasn’t sure but he certainly wasn’t with the showing he gave. Issania didn’t say anything, but he was certain he’d done certain things completely wrong. He’d ended up using muscle groups he’d never trained before and the ones he had trained, he’d done so with Muay Thai movements in mind, not whatever… this was. By the end of it, Arthur was covered in a sheen of sweat, even if his stats meant he wasn’t truly tired.

Thankfully, the former endurance challenge restrictions seemed to have been lifted.

The lady knight stood before him, her hands on her hips as her eyes gazed somewhere off into the distance. “Okay, the verdict,” she finally said. “In terms of your foundation, I don’t think I’ve ever come across a better body than yours. I don’t know what you’ve done with it, but it contains power far greater than what your base stats probably suggest. I’d think you have a special physique of some kind, but I’ve detected no resonance with my own so far, which means yours is so far beyond mine I can’t sense anything but I highly doubt that.”

She stroked her chin in a way that reminded Arthur of older men with their beards and he’d bet a thousand dollars she’d picked up the habit from her father. He didn’t want to assume anything but Orlando, the scarred one sounded like a man with a wicked beard. He stroked his own hairless chin. Curse these Korean genetics that held him back. Arthur didn’t think minoxidil would work for him anymore with how high his Draconic Vitality was. It was a shame but he’d have to leave his dreams of beard growing for when he found an alien remedy.

“Outside of your incredible body, however, the way you move yourself, the way you distribute weight on your feet, it’s completely wrong for any sword techniques I can teach you. Thankfully, however, with a few minor adjustments, I might just be able to make a spear user out of you yet. Which is great actually. Seven times out of ten, you’d rather have a spear in your hands instead of a sword. The reach advantage is too great and if you find a good enough Enchanter, you can get one that shortens for use in close range."

“We don’t have time for all that though, and besides the locus will prevent me from giving anything to you. In my culture, a master will always get a student their first weapon, but it looks like I’ll have to forsake tradition today. Are you ready to learn then, Mr Ward, or would you like to pick up the blade?” She asked.

“I think I’ll defer to your better judgement… teacher, or do I call you something else,” he replied.

“Teacher’s perfectly fine,” she answered, though her smug smile showed she was inordinately pleased with herself.

Issania marched back and forwards in front of him with her hands clapped behind her back and Arthur could clearly tell she was mirroring someone else's movements, perhaps her father once again? The elf-lady seemed to do that a lot.

“I’ll start with a question, just as my master did when he first taught me. What is a weapon to you?”

Arthur didn’t take any time to think of some deep, profound answer. The question was simple and so was his reply. “Something to help me kill better. A tool to inflict as much damage as possible in the most efficient way I can. Nothing more, nothing less. How I use it, well, that's a separate question altogether.”

“An uninspired answer,” she grinned. “I like it. The guys that start spouting poetry aren’t right in the head. They think they’re profound but they regurgitate the fanciful writings of those who never accomplished anything." She looked at him solemnly. “Are you ready, Mr Ward, for instruction? We will test your limits, find them and go beyond for that is where real learning truly begins.”

Arthur had a feeling she’d memorised this speech from her father, but he went along with it and replied affirmatively. Issania grinned and Arthur felt a chill go down his back.

“I invoke teaching rights, locus,” she declared. “Please bring back the stamina restrictions that were present on this floor.”

I think I spoke too soon.