"Congratulations, Velos," she said, with the faintest of smiles. "You’re officially a one-mark hunter now."

Amid the clamor of the Division’s logistics hall, Shovi stood out. She was holding a freshly printed scroll, its edges still warm from the press. As Velos approached, she turned to face him, extending her hand with a metallic badge gleaming in her palm and the scroll, now colored a distinct blue.

Velos reached out to take the badge and the scroll. He examined the emblem, the symbol of his new rank, and then unfurled the identification scroll to read the updated details of his promotion. His eyes moved over the new text, yet his expression remained oddly blank.

SLAYER IDENTIFICATION SCROLL

Issued by the Covenant’s Slayers Division

----------------------------------------

Personal Information

* * Name: Velos Rendhal

* Date of Induction: 20th day of Laor, 1st Year of Emperor Harlos III

* Place of Birth: Menod, North Valfield

* Status: Active

* Current Residence: Communal Barracks Wing 3, South Sector

Rank and Division

* * Current Rank: ▲ (One-Mark)

* Assigned Unit: N/A

* Years of Service: N/A

* Recorded Infractions: 0 Recorded Infractions

Combat Information

* * Total Missions Completed: 1

* Total High-Threat Monsters Defeated: 1

* Weapon Proficiencies: Twin Blades

* Additional Skills: Basic Sword Training, Intermediate Medical Training

----------------------------------------

Approved by Deputy Commander Shovi Aradne

Property of the Covenant, Slayers Division

He glanced back at Shovi, his face revealing none of the enthusiasm she had expected.

Shovi raised an eyebrow, half-amused. "What’s the matter? Were you waiting for some grand ceremony or fireworks? All the paperwork's filed, you know." She smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, sure, i’ll have to introduce you to the upper ranks during the next assembly, but this is about as exciting as promotions get."

Velos blinked, snapping out of his daze. "Sorry," he said, awkwardly. "Just a lot to process." He offered her a polite nod before turning to leave.

Shovi was about to go back to her tasks when Velos paused, then turned on his heel and walked straight back to her. He held out the badge and the scroll.

"I’d like to delay my promotion," Velos said, without a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Shovi blinked, utterly baffled. "You... what?"

Velos repeated himself, his gaze unflinching. "I don’t think I’ve earned it yet."

Shovi’s eyes widened in disbelief. She could already feel the irritation cracking open the formality. "Are you serious? Do you think we’re stupid? That Baraol, the Council, everyone who put time into assessing your case doesn’t know what they’re doing?" She exhaled sharply, reigning in her frustration. "Come on, walk with me."

As they left the noisy logistics area and moved into a quieter corridor, Shovi shot Velos a sideways glance. "Listen, you’re unbearably naive if you think turning down a promotion is an option. It’s done, Velos. Whether or not you think you’re up to the task, that’s on you. The only thing you need to know is that a one-mark slayer has no room to stay idle. Three months of inactivity and you lose the rank. So take the badge, do whatever you can to keep it." She slowed her steps, softening her voice. "It’s none of mine, or Promotional’s business whether you feel worthy or not."

Velos nodded, glancing away from his instructor. "I thought I needed to agree to the promotion."

Shovi raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was being sarcastic or just dense. "Whatever the case," she said, her tone firmer, "take the badge."

Velos hesitated, then said, "I don’t mean any disrespect. It’s just... I didn’t do well in the combat trial. I didn’t meet the target."

"Field experience is what likely got you the rank," Shovi replied, crossing her arms. "You killed an alpha Darau before you even had a mark. That’s more than enough."

"Likely," Velos said, suddenly eyeing his superior with a sharp glance. "You don’t know for sure, do you?"

"Watch your words," Shovi warned, her tone steely. "You’re overstepping. Be grateful I’m even discussing this with you."

"I am grateful," Velos said quickly, lowering his head in what looked like a bow. "Which is why I’m going to ask for a favor—one I’m practically begging for."

Shovi sighed. "You want me to train you personally?"

Velos shook his head. "No."

He straightened, then asked, "I would like to retake the combat trial until I succeed."

Shovi felt an awkward pause much longer than it should have been. Her expression hardened, her frustration palpable. "Did you hear a word I said? Operating Dummy-3 costs money, time, and a hell of a lot of repairs. You can’t just waltz into the training area whenever you feel like it, Velos."

Velos took a deep breath, looking Shovi straight in the eyes. "I understand," he said calmly, "and I’ll cover the operational costs myself."

Shovi's blinked. "What?"

"If I’m promoted to a one-mark slayer, I’ll be earning payment from the requests I take on and the bounties for hunting creatures," Velos explained. "I’m requesting that a portion of my earnings from my first few jobs be directed toward maintaining Dummy-3 in advance."

He paused, then continued with a sincerity that was almost painful to hear. "I know this is a lot to ask from you, Instructor Shovi. But I’d be incredibly grateful if you could help arrange this. I don’t want to trouble the Division any more than I have to."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Shovi raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-annoyed. "This is a lot of trouble just to feed your own ego, Velos Rendhal."

"I’m aware," Velos replied, nodding without hesitation.

A dry scoff escaped Shovi’s lips, and she couldn't help but shake her head slightly. "You’ve got a strange way of turning humility into a stubborn tantrum," she muttered. "You’re one of those people who'd break both arms trying to prove a point, aren’t you?"

Velos didn't answer, but his eyes said it all. He was dead serious. Shovi studied him for a moment, weighing her options, and then let out a resigned sigh. "Alright," she said finally. "I’ll see if it can be arranged. No promises, but I’ll talk to engineering and see what we can do."

Velos bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Instructor Shovi. I won’t let your efforts go to waste."

"Better not," Shovi said, quick to end the conversation.

—

For days on end, Velos threw himself into the combat trials, three hours at a time, against Dummy-3. Each time he faced the training machine, the costs of maintenance for the machine ate into his future pay, shrinking the financial reward of his first few hunts. But Velos didn’t let that stop him; he pressed on, driven by a desire to do more than pass.

Gone was any trace of the archivist’s calm demeanor, replaced by relentless attempts to master each movement. With every try, he inched closer to the goal of breaking all six boards in a single, fluid sequence. Each failure he would insist on starting over from scratch. He knew that at some point he would have to stop, and even if he could never break all six in the fastest time possible for someone of his strength, he would still have to try taking them all down.

Three days passed in this rhythm: training by day, working night shifts in the archives to make ends meet, and catching what little sleep he could manage. Now, on this third day, Velos was finally within reach of his goal, standing in the training arena, drenched in sweat, facing the final board. Watching from one of the tall podiums, Shovi and Field Commander Baraol observed his progress.

Shovi watched intently, arms crossed, scrutinizing Velos's footwork. She'd spent those last days drilling the basic fundamentals into him—how to use the twin blades effectively against larger-sized, multi-limbed opponents like the ones he might encounter in the field. She’d focused on quick pivots, diagonal steps, and lateral movements to keep his footing nimble and adaptive, techniques meant to allow him to exploit openings with precision while minimizing the risk of getting caught in a monster’s reach.

Beside her, Baraol stood with his usual silence, until a small chuckle broke through.

Shovi gave him a sidelong glance, eyebrow raised. "What's so funny?" she asked, the strain of her efforts evident in her voice. "I’ve been running back and forth to engineering to explain why they need to be on standby for days on end, all for one rookie."

Baraol’s smile widened slightly. "You damn well better," he said. "I was just remembering the look on Councilman Arkvoss' face when he found out that the rookie he backed so hard for a promotion was dead set on turning it down."

Shovi narrowed her eyes, staring blankly at her commander. “This is about screwing with Promotional?”

“Not my intention.” Baraol let out another laugh. "But sometimes this job pays itself."

Before Shovi could respond, they heard the clanging of metal boots entering the arena from behind them. The newly-promoted Sterling stepped forward, wearing his own badge of one-mark status on his chest armor. He gave a stiff, awkward salute to Baraol and Shovi, who simply nodded back.

"At ease," Baraol said, waving off the formality.

"What are you doing here, Sterling?" Shovi asked.

"Well, I’ve been trying to catch Velos for days now," Sterling said, scratching the back of his head. "Every time I look for the guy, he's either working himself into the ground or crashed somewhere, so I figured I’d finally track him down. Kind of had to be inquisitive." he added with a grin.

"Take a look at your partner, then," Baraol said, gesturing toward the arena.

Sterling turned his attention to Velos, who was now battling against the sixth and final board. He had shed the layers of his leather and formal clothes, his tunic sticking to him with sweat, moving with a focus that Sterling barely recognized. Gone was the shaky, uncertain fighter who struggled with the Darau; Velos’s movements were now sharp and fluid—ducking, weaving, side-stepping, rolling with a grace that had been absent before.

Sterling watched as Velos seized a fleeting moment of opportunity. With the machine’s arms still recovering from a wild swing, Velos lunged forward, twin blades flashing as he drove one deep into the last board, splitting it clean in half with a roar of exertion. The sound of the board cracking echoed in the arena, followed by Velos’s exasperated scream. He collapsed onto the ground, tossing his weapons aside, lying there in a puddle of dust and sweat.

"How long did that take?" Baraol asked, his voice returning to the calm usual.

"Five and a half minutes," Shovi replied. "If it went over ten, I’d have pulled him out before Dummy-3 could incur any real damage. Not to mention, he should probably earn some money before burying himself in debt to the Division." She shot a pointed look at Baraol. "There’s no policy against stubborn fools willing to run themselves into the ground for their own satisfaction. Yet."

Without missing a beat, Shovi tossed Sterling a new blue identification scroll and the steel badge indicating Velos’s one-mark status. "Here," she said, relieved that it’s done with, "You give it to him. I’m done babysitting for today."

Sterling fumbled with the scroll and badge, caught off guard. "Me? Hold on, I—"

"Just do it," Shovi said, cutting him off before walking off.

Sterling shot a confused glance at commander Baraol, who promptly nodded—giving Sterling a smile before also walking off.

Velos lay on the cold ground, feeling every drop of sweat trickling down his arm as he tried to catch his breath. The exhaustion was heavy, but there was a flicker of satisfaction hidden beneath it. He barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps, the thud of heavy boots on the training ground floor.

Suddenly, the bright light streaming through the chamber's ceiling was blocked, and Velos found himself looking up at the silhouette of his partner—Sterling. Even though they had only gone through one mission together, the sight of that rugged tin can standing over him brought an unexpected sense of relief. Velos felt something close to elation, something he couldn't quite understand himself.

"Hey," Sterling said, carrying an awkward stiffness expected from someone who's still unsure of Velos' disposition.

Velos met his eyes, then slowly sat up, brushing some dust off his sweat-streaked face. It struck Sterling as surreal; the last time they were together, he'd almost threatened to kill Velos if he said anything about his condition—his... true form. But Velos didn’t seem to hold that against him, or perhaps he just didn’t care enough to make it an issue.

"Those guys wanted me to give you this," Sterling said, handing Velos the blue identification scroll and the steel badge that marked him as a one-mark hunter.

Velos took the badge in his hands, studying it closely. It was made of steel, clean and unblemished, carved to perfection. There was a strange discomfort in its flawlessness. Velos would have preferred it to be scratched and dented, something that bore marks of use and survival. Too pristine meant too comfortable, and it reminded him of this three-month lapse in judgement.

He slipped the badge into his pocket, his gaze still lingering on the scroll, then finally looked back up at Sterling. "So, what now?"

Sterling shrugged, still a bit at a loss. "Beats me," he said. "I heard you’ve got yourself some kind of debt, though. Maybe you should start by paying that off?"

“Maybe,” Velos replied. “Or maybe we could just keep slaying, business as usual.”

Sterling let out a sigh, reaching his hand out, slowly lifting Velos off the floor.

“You sure you don’t want to do anything else?” said Sterling, giving Velos a firm pat on the back.

“Not at all.” Velos replied. “Not a single thing.”

----------------------------------------

Slayer's Notes

Property of Velos Rendhal

Twin Blades

Twin blades are a fascinating weapon. They’re a pair of swords, crafted to be used in harmony, with some having equal weight distribution while others are intentionally asymmetrical. I remember back in Menod, where I saw slayers using these blades with such grace and speed that it seemed like they were dancing with their enemies. That day, I realized that a less-than-bulky frame like mine wasn’t necessarily a disadvantage. Instead, it could be turned into an asset, using speed and agility to overwhelm opponents.

Instructor Shovi mentioned that there may be hidden strengths and utilities to this weapon that i hadn’t thought of yet, and i’m still curious as for what that might be. Maybe i’ll be more privy to this once i reach the higher ranks, where i’d be granted access to better gear.