"Hey… Archie?"
"Yes Lady Morris?"
"Have you ever trained to fight before?" Penelope asked the question nervously as she walked alongside her retainer. Her pace was slow and she meandered through the ornate hall. Some tapestries hung on the wall and she made a show of examining them while stalling for time.
"Ah! Oh, um, well, yes I have Lady Morris." The flustered retainer stammered out a response and fussed with his shirt's collar nervously. "All retainers are trained to help serve as guardians for their assigned Inheritors while they undergo their own training. Though truth be told, I was never one for martial combat and my spellcraft under pressure is nothing special. Why do you ask?"
"Well, as a Nadir," Penelope coughed, "I've never done anything involving that sort of thing before."
"Yes… Well your fellow Zodiacs will surely protect you to the best of their abilities should the need arise, so worry not Lady Morris!"
Penelope nodded, trying to calm herself down. It was the second morning since she'd arrived at the Temple and been chosen as a Hero, and Archie had informed her that they'd be starting combat training. Initially, she'd thought that it would simply involve learning how to use a weapon, but her retainer clarified that the training hall was actually a specialized facility used for training the elite in live combat in an artificial offshoot of the local dungeon.
Thinking about the prospects of doing battle with other people the previous day had left her a bit rattled, but she was still nearly as conflicted about fighting an animal. At one point she'd tried to become vegetarian out of concerns for animal cruelty, and though the phase didn't last it still made her extremely uncomfortable to even think of harming another living creature herself.
Besides there was also the not insignificant matter of her own safety. Penelope had arrived at this world with an alarming 0 health points, but when she'd checked her status that night she'd been relieved to see the number had ticked up by two. She'd nearly entirely forgotten about her status menu the second day, so this morning when she remembered to open it she'd been hopeful that the value might have gone up. However, as she walked with Archie, she pulled up her status menu for the third time that morning.
HP: 2/40
SP: 49/50
MP: 70/70
Status: Normal
Her health value hadn't changed the slightest bit.
Penelope couldn't for the life of her figure out what had happened to make her HP go up in the first place. On the first day she'd been exhausted and eaten a large dinner, which Archie had assured her was supposed to help with constitution and vital health stuff, but her overzealous retainer had made sure she'd been kept on a strictly healthy diet since then and nothing had changed - she'd even gone so far as to choke down a strange, sour, tomato-like fruit that morning that Archie had been trying to get her to eat for its special health properties, and there was still no change!
It wasn't like she physically felt any less healthy than she had all her life. She'd come to this world with 0 HP after all, so that was probably just the default state on Earth. It just didn't feel right for the one stat to not be recovering is all. Penelope had even considered asking Archie about it, but held herself back when she imagined the sheer paroxysms she would induce if the small, furry man learned she was essentially perpetually on this world's equivalent of the brink of death.
After a long time, despite Penelope's best attempts to stall them, the pair arrived at the transportation station for the Temple. The station was a very large, open room that reminded Penelope of the Grand Hall she'd first arrived in, but though the room bore similar marble walls and runic filigree as the rest of the complex, its much lower ceiling and the large reception desk to one side gave the place a much more functional feel.
Unlike the rest of the Temple where she could walk a full minute or two without coming across someone, both times Penelope had seen the station it was thronged with people. People dressed as priests or workmen alike came and went from the assortment of teleportation arrays at the back of the room, many carrying some parcels or walking in a rush to complete some errand. There were far more people than Penelope thought occupied the Temple, and Penelope asked Archie about where they were all going.
"Most of the workers and acolytes of our Temple don't actually live here, but reside in the city below," Archie replied. "There are also quite a few visitors who come to the Temple for religious reasons."
Penelope nodded. "That makes sense. So do you live in the city, Archie? I'm sorry if I've been making you stay here later than normal."
He shook his head. "Not to worry, Lady Morris. I do indeed have a permanent residence in Loria proper, but I have a room maintained here as well should I need to spend the night. Now, that's enough delay, you'll be late to your lesson!"
Penelope looked to the side in embarrassment at being called out, but quickly stuck to Archie's heels as he led her to one of the teleportation arrays at the end of the room. These closed chambers weren't nearly as layered in detailed rune patterns as the one Penelope had arrived in, but she supposed it made sense if these were only meant to teleport someone to a fixed location in the city. She walked into the room, her shoes echoing strangely in the round chamber. Turning around, she was surprised to see Archie standing outside of the room.
"Are you not coming?"
"Er… Nope. Good luck Lady Morris!" With that short reply her retainer activated something on the wall outside the chamber and the world flashed white.
Unlike last time, Penelope remained awake during this trip, and her stomach flipped in a panic as the ground disappeared from under her feet. In an instant, the world had vanished, replaced by a white void that somehow remained just as bright even when Penelope shut her eyes. After a couple more seconds passed with nothing happening, she began to worry that something had gone wrong when suddenly the white dissolved from her vision to reveal a room identical to the one she'd come from. Only in the doorway the small, squirrelish Archie had been replaced by a tall, looming figure silhouetted against the dim, flickering light from the room outside.
Before Penelope could get her bearings, the figure before her clamped a hand down on her shoulder, making her squeak in surprise.
"Hey Furl, the last recruit is here!" The woman's booming voice made Penelope flinch, which only drew a mirthful guffaw from the tall stranger. "Come on soldier, you're late!"
She grabbed Penelope's shoulder in a vice-like grip and dragged the stumbling girl out into the chamber beyond, which turned out to be a large armory. Penelope was dazzled by the shining rows and rows of armor stands and weapon-racks full of all sorts of medieval weapons and equipment that she'd never before seen in real life outside of a museum. Unlike the Temple, this training hall was composed of rough-hewn white bricks and was lit by mundane torches on the walls, giving off a very dungeon-like vibe that Penelope thought was appropriate for the setting. The only thing that seemed out of place was the heavy golden door on the right wall.
As she looked over the room, her gaze landed on a wraithlike woman with a billowing cloak who stood off by the far side. She was examining a pair of bronze, curved shortswords as Penelope and the first stranger approached her. This woman turned lazily and examined Penelope with the one eye that wasn't covered by her messy, long hair.
"Greetings Hero Aspirant," she spoke in a quiet, whispery voice that even from this close Penelope could hardly make out. Her eye drifted up to look at the woman dragging Penelope along. "It isn't appropriate to speak of the Inheritors in such a manner, Whelma. Especially not the Inheritor of the Rat."
"Bah, you're too uptight Furl! One guardian of the Empire is as good as any other." Whelma, laughed boisterously and clapped her hand down on Penelope's shoulder again. "Now do we still have any good armor left that's fit for a pint-sized girl like her? I swear, these recruits are the smallest ones I've ever seen. We're lucky that Brightfur girl had her own protective robes or I'd have had to take a trip over to the recruitment barracks to try to borrow a child's set!"
"Not everyone has the
"Ah!" Penelope was surprised at suddenly being asked to join the pair's discussion. "Penelope. Morris"
Furl nodded. "My name is Furl Lopnie. This is my sister, Whelma Lopnie. We are to be your trainers on martial combat should you require our services, as well as your guides to our training hall's artificial dungeon."
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Penelope looked in shock between Furl and Whelma. Sisters? Sure, she could sort of see that they had a similar dirty-blond hair color, but that was as far as their similarities went. Whelma stood at least a full head and a half taller than Penelope and had broad shoulders covered in shining gold and blue armor while her sister wore a set of close-fitted, dark blue leather armor and was barely taller than Penelope. Even beyond their radically different mannerisms, the pair had such completely distinct presences that she would never in a million years have guessed they might even be distant cousins. Just how much could Talents affect someone's development in this world?
"What manner of combat do you need to be equipped for?" Penelope's musings were interrupted by Furl's blunt question, bringing her back to her present predicament.
"I'm… Well I'm not actually sure," she replied. "I'm a Nadir. I don't have any fighting experience. Magical or otherwise."
Whelma made a disgusted snort, but after a reproachful look from Furl she clarified. "No offense to you, soldier, I know that sort of thing isn't your choice. It's just a damn shame. The idea of stunting a child's training doesn't sit well with me." She smiled. "Lucky you got two of the Empire's finest here to get you all sorted out. Furl, you figure out what weapons she'd like to train with, I'll prepare some armor for the recruit." With that, the large instructor took her leave.
Furl watched her sister leave until she was well out of earshot, then turned back to Penelope and gave her a small bow. "I apologize for my sister, Exalted Zodiac. She is not one for respecting the traditions of higher society."
"Oh no, no, that's perfectly fine," Penelope insisted, already regretting lying instead of just saying she didn't have experience handling weapons. Though it was just as likely that they would've just assumed Penelope was a Nadir after they found out the very limited extent of her knowledge.
The instructor nodded patiently. "Are there any weapons that you have an interest in handling?" After Penelope shook her head, Furl began to look over the wall of weaponry while sharing her own thoughts. "As the Inheritor of the Rat, you'll be expected to perform the role of the general on the battlefield. In that case, you may be better suited for a ranged weapon."
"So a bow?" Penelope could see that. She was excited to try out magic, but it seemed like it would probably be a while before she would be capable of spellcraft, and she had become nauseous just thinking about stabbing an animal with a sword.
"A bow may work," Furl walked over to a display of various sized bows and matching quivers. Penelope looked over the collection admiringly. The bows were all made of a sleek golden wood with simple grips wrapped in blue cloth, and all of them looked polished to a shine. She thought back to Archie's words and wondered just how elite this training hall was.
Selecting the second smallest bow, which was still as tall as Penelope's shoulders, Furl struck a relaxed stance and raised the bow up while effortlessly pulling back the string in one fluid motion. She seemed to consider how it felt for a moment before slowly lowering the tension on the string. Penelope tried to not feel offended when Furl replaced the bow with the smallest, thinnest one on the wall and handed it to the girl.
"Feet about shoulder width apart. Keep your weight even on both feet. Lean forward a little more, make sure your back is straight. Raise your bow arm up, try to keep it straight." Penelope tried her best to listen to the woman's rapid-fire instructions as she tried to take up the proper stance. Whenever she did something wrong, Furl gave her another curt correction, but despite being a complete novice she could rapidly feel her form improving under her instructor's watchful eye with just a few small corrections, so she didn't mind if she was being a bit blunt.
"Ok. Now take two fingers on the string and try to pull it back while maintaining your form." Penelope tensed for a moment and the bowstring shook, but nothing happened. "Ok… Don't worry about form too much, just try your best to pull the string back to your shoulder." The girl's muscles tensed again and she visibly quivered, but still her arm didn't budge. "Just… Pull."
"I- I am pulling." Penelope tried desperately to get the bow string to move even an inch, but it felt as firm as iron. Finally, she gave up and lowered her arm, panting with the effort she'd exerted. Reluctantly, she looked up to meet Furl's one eye. The instructor was staring down at her with a look of undisguised, baffled pity.
"What did you say your strength was again?" Furl asked, her cool tone completely at odds with the disbelief written on her face.
"Um." Penelope pulled up her stats screen quickly before replying. "It's 4."
Furl's eye widened even more before she made a visible effort to collect herself. After a painfully long moment of silence she began to speak again like nothing had happened. "That's fine. In that case you may be more suited for a magically operated weapon such as a needle or a cleaver."
"What are those?" She asked, hesitantly. Penelope was a bit worried that she wouldn't be able to operate those either if they involved any magical skill to use, but her instructor was quick to reassure her.
"Don't worry. They only require the most basic mana manipulation techniques to operate." Seeing that this did not assuage Penelope's fear, she continued. "I'll show you how to do it." With that, she led the girl to a sealed, glass cabinet by the corner of the room. Inside were two different kinds of weapons: A few sets of broad bladed short swords covered in etched runic script, and several long metal poles ending in a sharpened tip on one side and a small loop of metal on the other end. Next to the spear-like shafts of metal hung an array of long ribbons of various colors, each of which had intricate patterns of runes embroidered upon them.
"These are cleavers," Furl gestured to the short swords. "The runes can be powered to send out a pulse of cutting mana a short distance. Cleavers don't have the range of a bow or most spells, and they lack the force of a real melee weapon, but they're easy to use and get the job done."
She pointed to the metal poles. "Those are needles. They work as a cross between a spear and a spell focus like a staff, with some of the work of spellcraft streamlined by whatever runes you have on the attached ribbon. They're versatile, but do require at least some knowledge of spellcraft to use."
Penelope instantly knew which of the two weapons she was drawn to the most. The whole reason she was here in the first place was because she'd gone to the thrift shop to buy some clothes she could patch up to wear or resell. It felt poetic for her to wield a weapon that was so similar to a sewing needle. That being said…
"I think I'd like to try a cleaver, please." It just made the most logical sense, unfortunately. Although she'd had a single lesson, Penelope had to admit that she still didn't know the first thing about spellcraft, and learning something that complicated in a potentially life-or-death situation just didn't seem feasible or practical.
Silently, perhaps expecting her decision, Furl opened the cabinet and handed her a cleaver. The short sword had a nice heft to it, but wasn't too bulky either, and she had to admit that it felt perfect in her grip.
The instructor showed Penelope the activation rune hidden at the top end of the hilt beneath the sword's small, decorative crossguard. When Penelope laid her thumb over the rune, she was surprised to find that she could actually feel a small, barely noticeable sensation coming from within the cool metal. It felt sort of like a light tugging sensation, as if the blade itself were trying to pull something out of her.
Furl instructed her to try to push some mana into the blade, and at first Penelope tried to physically push on the handle with her fingers. When that didn't work she felt a bit discouraged for a moment, but then, in a spark of inspiration, she recalled what it felt like to push away the Message windows with her mind. She tried to focus on the tugging sensation some more and attempted to accept it in a similar way, pushing back with her mind.
Much to her surprise, something within her actually responded. Something that she hadn't been able to feel until now was shifting around inside of her, flowing towards the hungry blade and leaving a cold, icy path in its wake. It was a bit weird to be able to move something in her body like that with just her mind, and the sensation chilled her to her bone, but Penelope couldn't care less. She was actually (sort of) doing magic!
As the blade began to emit a soft, silvery glow, even her instructor's detached response couldn't dampen her excitement.
"It's a bit weak. But you're a Nadir, so that's to be expected, and as you invest points in intelligence it should get a lot stronger very quickly. It will probably work for your first training session today, depending on what Whelma has in mind.
"Now, to actually use the blade since - for some reason - you invested all of your physical free points into agility you'll want to keep at a medium range just outside of striking distance where you can safely dodge attacks while getting your own slashes in safely."
"Ah," Penelope tentatively interrupted. Furl looked at her expectantly. "No, well, my agility is only a 7. I'm level one, I've never spent any free points."
At this, the woman froze. "Level one…" she echoed faintly, even quieter than normal.
"Yes. Well, I mean… I am a Nadir." Penelope lied again out of sheer optimism. Had she said something strange? It was normal for Nadirs to be low level, right? Wasn't that what Archie had told her?
"I… No, I know, you must be. But, a Level one? How are you even alive?" The woman pressed Penelope, seeming to grow more and more flustered as she spoke.
"Soldier!" Suddenly, Whelma's booming voice interrupted the pair's conversation, much to Penelope's relief. The large woman strode over carrying a set of leather armor painted an ostentatiously bright blue and gold. "I've found a good set of armor for ya! You seem a little small so I got something on the lighter side, but don't you worry! The enchantments should hold up to at least one direct shot from a cannon shrimp."
That comment managed to stir the still-dumbstruck Furl. "A cannon shrimp? Whelma-"
"Here, I'll help you into the armor!" The excited woman completely ignored her soft-spoken sister, as she practically threw a cuirass over Penelope's hard. "The straps on these things can be a little hard to manage on your own. Don't even ask me how long it takes me to get my own armor on before I go on duty!" She roared with laughter like she had just made the funniest joke in the world.
"Whelma, she's-" Furl tried again to speak.
"So you chose a cleaver? You picked an excellent weapon for the recruit, Furl!" Whelma clapped her sister on the back while again ignoring what she had to say. "Not that anything's quite like a good old-fashioned spear!" She laughed again.
While Whelma regaled the pair with tales of slaying giant spider monsters, she continued to hastily equip Penelope with pieces of the armor set, completely oblivious to her sister's repeated attempts to get her attention. Before she knew it, Penelope was fully equipped in a leather cuirass and two sets of arm and leg guards. It was a lot heavier than it looked, but Penelope managed and it didn't restrict her movements too much. She barely had time to wonder if she needed a helmet before Whelma was dragging her along and out the exit in the back of the room.
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Furl looked with a lazy expression towards the dark corridor her sister and the teenager had gone down. "She's going to get that girl killed isn't she…" she lamented to herself. Turning her head to one side, she met the gaze of her own distorted reflection in the polished breastplate of some ancient suit of armor. "Well, knowing Whelma it'll probably be fine." With that, the instructor returned to examining and maintaining the various exquisite artifacts in the armory, firmly putting the Inheritors' training out of mind.