Baron Sinclair didn’t immediately reply, cupping his chin as he pondered my request. “I take it you aren’t interested in the gear we provide our City Guard?”

“Actually, I’d love the full plate you issue your guards, but that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I said, realizing just how audacious I was being. I bet most people never even got a chance to talk to Baron Sinclair in person, let alone make demands of him. Still, I needed this, and I felt like I was just barely in my right to ask for something of this sort.

“The set of armor is of no concern. Consider it a personal gift from me. As for the armory, may I ask what you seek? You must understand there are weapons in our arsenal that I am not at liberty to give or sell. No matter how much of a service you may have done for us.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not asking for mythic quality stuff or anything. Just one weapon, made with rare, but not exotic material. Would that be doable?”

“That should be amenable, yes,” Baron Sinclair said. “Though, I’m afraid this arrangement will have to be contingent on the successful capture of those involved with Tarquin. If we cannot locate and bring everyone involved to justice, I’m afraid I will be in no position to honor my promise to you.”

“That’s entirely fine by me,” I said. Then I looked at Aerion, who had her eyes on the floor this whole time. “Actually, I’d like to amend that. My friend here contributed easily as much as I did. He’s not one for armor, but he’d very much benefit from a better weapon. Especially if we’re delving into a Cataclysm Dungeon.”

“Of course,” Baron Sinclair said. “Then, if that is all, I have matters that need attending to. Are we concluded here?”

Every shred of my being told me to say ‘yes’, and that asking for anymore would be overstepping my bounds.

But I overrode that sensibility and pushed anyway. The outcome of our discussion here might be the difference between dying in a dungeon and coming back alive. I took a deep breath and went for it.

“Just one more thing,” I said, doing my best to muster a strong voice. “Philip, of the City Guard, agreed to train my combat skills. Just that he’s been recalled to active duty, and I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to train together before the dungeon arrives. To be honest, I’m more than a little worried about my lack of training, so if there’s any chance you could recall him…”

“Is that all?” Sinclair replied with a wry smile. “I half expected you’d ask for a nobility title.”

I raised my brows. “Is that on the table?”

“No,” the Baron replied flatly. “But removing one reservist from active duty? That is something I can manage. I suppose you’ll need somewhere to train. Do you have access to facilities?”

“I don’t,” I admitted.

“Very well. I’ll book out one of our training fields for your exclusive use. With so many of our forces currently deployed, they are hardly being put to use, anyway.”

“That would be incredible,” I said. To think I’d have not only Philip, but access to Basecrest’s training facilities? Plus the armor and the promise of a [Rare] sword I could Initialize? I felt like our gambit had paid off in spades. “Thank you, Baron,” I said, bowing my head. “This is a kindness we will not forget.”

I really wanted this guy to stay in power.

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

I appreciated competent leaders who worked fast. A runner intercepted us as we left the audience chamber, volunteering to usher us to our designated training field whenever we were free. Neither Aerion nor I had anywhere better to be, so we followed the man out of the castle’s keep, and to the walled barracks nearby. The large area was connected to the castle, but had its own distinct space, reserved for the express use of the City Guard.

Instead of an open football field as I’d expected, though, it was made of a vast array of long buildings, each no doubt designed to house and feed the troops stationed there.

After being guided through a series of halls, we finally arrived at an open-air courtyard. Except, instead of fountains and flowers, it was filled with dirt and sand. Weapons racks of all sorts lined the rectangular space, holding various polearms, swords, and even wooden variants designed for practice.

I loved it. This was the sort of space I could train in for hours on end. And if I wanted to have any hope of safely navigating that Cataclysm Dungeon, I probably would.

“Please wait a moment. Philip has been informed of his new assignment and is presently on his way. And please take these,” the man said, handing us round golden medallions with the Baron’s crest. “These will allow you free passage into and out of the castle grounds. Please do not lose them. They are quite precious.”

“You don’t say.” I hefted the medallion—they were heavy. And probably made of pure gold. I couldn’t imagine how much this thing would fetch on the market.

I glanced over at Aerion, who was eyeing hers with the round eyes of a kid in a candy store. I was willing to bet she had the same thought.

Of course, that would be a monumentally stupid idea. Gold was nice, but money could be earned. Trust, though? That was much harder to come by. As valuable as these trinkets were, our connection to Sinclair was worth a hundred times more.

“We’ll keep them safe,” I promised the man, who nodded.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Then I shall be on my way. If you need anything, please flag down a soldier and show your medallion. They will procure anything you wish.”

“Thanks,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “Looks like Sinclair’s pulling out all the stops,” I told Aerion after he’d left.

“Stops? I don’t understand,” Aerion replied.

“The whole nine yards. The full Monty,” I deadpanned.

“I cannot tell if your translator is faulty, or if you are making fun of me.”

“Make fun of you? Who, me?” I placed my hand on my chest in dramatic fashion. My performance earned me a punch to my arm.

“Yeesh,” I said, massaging the nonexistent bruise—Vigor and Dominion did wonders for that. “Tough crowd.”

“I can’t believe you negotiated so much from Sinclair,” Aerion said, staring at the ground, smoothly ignoring my theatrics. “I was terrified he’d grow angry and throw us in jail.”

“I admit I pushed the line,” I said. “Then again, he’s asking a lot of us, so it felt warranted. I’m just glad things seem to be working out for us.”

While cozying up to the local authorities had always been in the cards, I hadn’t expected to draw the ace so soon. This boded quite well for my growth potential.

Almost subconsciously, I began moving through the Taiji forms, and Aerion being Aerion, quickly fell in beside me. She’d become intensely interested in the art form, and I’d even caught her practicing on her own when I woke up.

As much as I wanted to let my mind drift, though, our current situation prevented that.

“The meteors haven’t lessened,” Aerion said softly, staring up at the sky.

“Seems that way,” I replied as I moved through the form. I didn’t know if anyone had died from a meteor impact yet, but the property damage alone would leave the city reeling for a long time. “And to think this is only the beginning.”

If this was the sort of damage an E Rank Cataclysm Dungeon wrought, what did the higher ranks look like? And they were just the opening act. The prelude to the real invasion. What sort of damage would the actual horde wreak upon the world? Or the Archon that led them?

I didn’t even want to think about fighting those things right now. I needed to get stronger, and what I learned in this short time would impact that greatly. The rest, I’d just have to pick up along the way.

Unfortunately, I felt like my Order stat would’ve gone up had there been room to grow. I pulled up my current stats.

Total: 141

Vigor: 31 (Max 31)

Order: 11 (Max 11)

Wisdom: 20 (Max 22)

Passion: 17 (Max 29)

Grace: 16 (Max 16)

Cunning: 18 (Max 23)

Dominion: 28 (Max 29)

Order, Vigor, and Grace were at their ceiling, while Cunning, Passion, and Wisdom still had room to grow. Dominion was just one away from maxing out. I ought to be able to fix that the moment the Baron’s guard armor got delivered.

Incidentally, Aerion’s stat sum was currently 97. I’d been trailing her before we left the Trial. I was now comfortably ahead. Not that it was a competition, or anything. Not at all.

Just as I was thinking about that, my mentor arrived.

“Well met,” Philip said, striding over with a grin. He still wore his full plate armor and carried a spear. He probably came here right from wherever he’d been stationed. “Glad to see you alive, friend.”

“And you,” I said, cracking a smile of my own. “Can’t have our instructor dying in an operation, can we?”

“I honestly don’t know how you managed that. Commander Tarth himself reassigned me. Whatever you did, you sure made a good impression on the higher-ups.”

“Yeah, well. Saving their asses tends to have that effect.”

Philip raised a brow. “You don’t say. Well, I won’t pry. I’ve learned that poking your head into matters of the state is a good way to reduce your lifespan.”

“Sounds about right.”

I re-introduced Aerion, who’d been hanging back until now, and then we got down to business.

“Right, then. The elf over there seems like he’s had some training.”

Aerion nodded.

“Even so, I reckon there’s a thing or two I can teach you. I suggest you learn alongside Greg here, even if the style may not fit you. Never know what you can learn.”

“I intend to,” Aerion said right away. “I was going to ask if you hadn’t suggested it.”

“Excellent!” Philip said. “Nothing better than an eager student.”

Aerion cleared her throat. “I’m a girl, by the way. Just so you know. So it’s not awkward. Later.”

“Oho?” Philip said, scrutinizing Aerion’s face. “Could’ve fooled me. I can never really tell with you elves, anyway. Noted, though.”

I was honestly surprised Aerion confided her secret in him, though I supposed this was better than him finding out down the line.

When I glanced at her, she gave me a look that said, ‘Well, you trust him…’

I felt my chest grow warm. For Aerion to trust my judgment to that degree… It meant a lot.

Philip clapped his hands together. “Now then. First things, first. I need to assess your current level. By the look you’re giving me, I trust you know exactly what I’m talking about?”

“A duel,” I said, tasting bitterness at the back of my mouth. “I’ll give you fair warning. I’m pretty terrible. Might be better to just assume I don’t know anything.”

“Nonsense! Even if that were true—which it isn’t, I saw you fight that Blessed—everyone has their own style. I need to see what works and what doesn’t.”

“You… sound like you’ve done this before.”

“I might’ve taught a whelp or two in my heyday. Been a while, though.”

“Right,” I said. “One day, I’m gonna get you drunk, and you’ll spill the beans about your past.”

“Spill the beans...” Philip roared with laughter. “Defeat me, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

I gripped my poleax and grinned. “You know there’s no way I’m gonna let myself lose now, right?”

“Fine words,” Philip said, nodding to himself. “Fine last words.”

“Bring it.”