As I pass the boundary of the building, I get a sudden but fleeting red pain behind my eyes and fall back.
-10hp
"Michael what the hell?!"
He picks me up by my outstretched hand and looks me over to see for any damage.
"I forgot to say. Remember to take off your helmet."
With a grimace and a soured mood, I take off my helmet and clip it to my back.
"Let's go."
The further into the base we get, the more my nerves get to me. And I hate it. It's nothing to do with Mary herself. Despite her oddness, I like the woman. It's because I feel like I'm in trouble. I haven't seen anyone else with wings. And I haven't seen anyone else be able to use the sword like I do.
I assume some of them can, as my mind stat is apparently high enough to make a weak arc. I can't use a sword to make the an energy run when I stab something, but apparently there are people with mind stats higher than mine. I can only assume it's because they use their swords for more defensive measures.
I'm reminded of the sword that Michael has. He used the rapier like his claymore in the fighting, with two hands. I wanted to critique him at the time, but the way he used it meant that he was as effective as any of the other fighters around us. I was still getting used to being stronger but slower to compensate for my low nobody stat, so he was doing far better than me.
I can't see the sword anywhere on his body, but as the scabbard on his back is invisible, I assume it's secured in there somehow.
"Curious about the assault blade?"
I look up to his slightly amused face, and nod eagerly. The subject of weapons quickly washes away my foul mood.
"I didn't know there were other types of swords available."
He laughs but seems all too eager to explain.
"There are only the two types issued here. The siege blades which we typically use are for fighting against monsters, or sometimes actually attacking a building. We don't use them on people. Very rarely, and only with the permission of the king can a noble hire us for a land dispute, or some invasion. In those cases, we use the assault blades. They're generally better against other humans who know about wielding a sword."
"Can I get one?"
"Maybe. If you get promoted."
"And how do I do that?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure that's what Lieutenant Scott is going to talk to you about. I mean, you killed two monsters, of rank four and five. I've only ever assisted with a rank four and... she must be promoting you."
This is good news... I think. While a higher position of power can only help me gain access to more information and power, I don't need all the attention.
We continue in silence until I start to recognise the route.
"So what are you going to do for the rest of today?"
Michael looks thoughtful for a moment.
"I doubt I'll be able to go back to the front line. By now our division is probably sparring or just relaxing in the woods. I can do some proper training in the box though."
"The box?"
"I'll tell you about it later. But we're at the lieutenants office. You shouldn't keep her waiting."
He knocks on the door for me and stands to attention just past it. There are muffled voices coming from within. They pause when he knocks.
"Come in."
Mary's rough voice comes through the door and Michael shoots me an encouraging smile. I'm grateful because despite the increasingly familiar way Mary and I have been conversing, I'm still wary of what she has the power to do to me. I won't fight her, but I have a feeling that's not mutual.
I push my way into the office, and sitting opposite Mary is a tall and lithe blonde man who turns to look at me as I enter.
His hair is long to his shoulders and slicked back with something greasy. Something on his back is making his coat ride up, but I can dismiss it as some racial thing. His skin is certainly too pale to be human, and his ears are flat to the sides of his head.
His pupils are white, surrounded by green irises which analyse me. He makes an unsatisfied face and turns back to Mary.
"She's the human I'm supposed to train? There's nothing to her! Is she at least trained in any styles?"
Mary raises her eyebrows and looks at me.
"I don't know. Why don't you ask her yourself?"
He stands up and turns to me, grossly his arms. His glare deepens and his mouth turns up into a sneer. I certainly don't like this guy.
"Well?"
I'm determined to be more patient than him. I can be better.
"I'm afraid I don't know the names of any styles here, but I guarantee I have some skill."
His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, and I can see Mary nod approvingly.
"We shall see."
----------------------------------------
By that, the tall pale guy means to test me.
He leads me down a maze of corridors, down several flights of stairs until we reach an underground arena of sorts.
Through a thick glass wall, I can see a large square of dirt surrounded by black metal walls. I'm standing on an overlook of sorts, and looking at the higher up parts of the walls, I can see it extends around the entire arena.
"This is the illusionary training room. Most of us refer to it as the box. Here, I will test your potential."
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
I look down, closer to the base of the wall I'm behind, and see several mercenaries either sparring or resting.
It's my first chance to see how they train instead of fight, and they all seem to be using the common European style. All heavy sweeps and hard thrusts. In the past, it was a weapon and style used for crowd control or suppression rather than extended dueling due to the heavy weight of the swords.
But with the equipment we've been been provided with, that's no longer an issue. The fighters are able to pull off the moves in familiar with at an incredible pace. When all the effort can be placed into speed instead of trying to hold up the sword in the first place, some truly incredible moves can be pulled off.
"Girl!"
"Huh?"
I spin, and the pale man is looking at me, angrier than ever. I must have zoned out when looking at the fighting and started ignoring him.
I shrug apologetically and he just points at a staircase leading down to the arena.
I start towards the stairs and see him push his hand to the glass window. A red rune flares into life under his touch and he speaks, his voice echoing through the huge room.
"SPARRING TIME IS OVER BY ORDER OF SECOND LIEUTENANT SCOTT. CLEAR OUT!"
I can hear a few groans and complaints from the fighting mercenaries, but they all trudge up the stairs moments later in the opposite direction to me.
As I had suspected, Michael was among them and as we pass, he smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder just for a second before he is pushed along by those behind him.
As I walk through the plain doorway into the box, the air suddenly turns opaque and I push through it like water. On the other side, the dirt floor of the huge room has been replaced by the grassy plains of the battlefield I was on a mere hour ago.
Spinning around, I can see the translucent white doorway, but I can also see the landscape extend into the horizon past it.
I try to reach for the wall that logic dictates should be just next to the door, but I step right past it. I even take a few more steps to see if the wall is moved, but for all intents and purposes, the admittedly large room I had seen from the outside is now a vast landscape.
"Girl!"
I turn on my heel, reaching for my sword in shock. It's amazing how quickly that familiar motion comes back to me. I very nearly reach to my waist with my other hand, the reflexes crossing, but my little self control in that instant keeps my demeanour together.
The only threat to me is the threat to my mood in the form of the tall blonde guy.
"Yes?"
"Draw your sword. Fight me. I will evaluate your strength."
Ok then. A duel it is.
I harden my expression and focus on him. He isn't wearing a helmet so I assume I ant wear my own either. No matter. I'm not used to using it as a tactical advantage yet anyway.
With a flourish, he draws his sword and retreats several steps so we are at duelling distance apart.
I draw my sword too, and hold it in a comfortable two-handed grip as opposed to my opponent's one-handed grip. I don't have the muscles in this body to implement as much technique as I'd like to, but I can brute force this fight with my high spirit stat.
I force my breathing to slow, paying attention to my opponent as much as possible.
His body language suggests he will be playing defensive. But as much as I'd like to force him onto the offensive, he also exudes patience. A cold, furious patience, but patience nonetheless.
"Well, Girl? What are you waiting for?"
He splits his pale face into a smile, his mouth extending far further than normal humans. The resulting display of teeth is decidedly creepy and screams arrogance.
In return, I let my sword fall back behind me, and lift it in a quick uppercut. A vertical blade of gold flies forwards, leaving a shallow groove in the ground.
To my irritation, his grin twists deeper and he simply sidesteps the attack and remains in his ready position.
He tilts his head at me and with a cry of frustration, I swing my sword downwards, but before it hits the ground, I spin and swing vertically, making a golden cross careen towards him instead.
His eyes widen slightly and in an instant, his sword flashes blue and he thrusts at the centre of the cross.
It explodes in a shower of golden sparks, and when they clear, I can see he's dropped his guard and is preparing to sprint at me instead.
I hurriedly raise my guard again, and try to predict how he will attack. But with his body low to the ground and his sword loosely held behind him, there's a multitude of possible attacks. The ones I'm wary of are a thrust or swing. I can defend against either one easily, but assuming his speed is higher than my own, I won't be able to switch stances in time.
So another idea comes to mind.
As soon as his coiled body flexes and my image of him blurs, I let my grip loosen on my sword and stab it deep into the ground as hard as I can.
The golden nova that erupts from the ground is larger than any I've generated so far, and the earth in a five-foot radius is heavily destabilized.
Apparently, a high kinetic force is generated in the air too, as the blonde blur in front of me is thrown back. He lands on his feet, but I can see where shrapnel has caught his face, causing pale yellow blood to seep from his closed eye.
I feel like I've taken this too far, but at least his grin is gone.
Unfortunately, so is he.
-93hp
"AUGH!"
I look down, and a blue-tinted sword is protruding from my stomach. In an instant, over a third of my health is gone, and my body is overloaded with pain.
High pain levels detected...
Deploying dullnerve.
Instantly, the sword is pulled out from my stomach and I fall to the ground as all my energy leaves me. The wound slowly becomes less painful though. In seconds, the pain has recessed enough that I can think straight.
Bleeding for 5hp per second (0:20)
This isn't a fatal wound. Not by any means.
My regeneration may not be as strong as this bleeding effect, but I have more than enough health left to survive. My health will be completely regenerated in a matter of minutes too.
"That was a low-damage area. For that to fell you, you must have been telling the Second Lieutenant the truth. In which case, I also needn't waste a health tonic on you."
He lets me rest on the floor for several minutes until I have enough energy to stand again.
The wound has closed, and I can see the holes in my clothes are smaller than they were at first. Dean must have been serious about the self-repair function of the clothing.
When I relocate the pale guy, he's sitting on a severed tree stump that's seemingly sprouted from nowhere. He stands when he sees I'm back on my feet.
"You fought well Ms Cass. Well enough for me to acknowledge your name. You have also earnt the right to know who I am. I'm the Lancer, Declan Scott."
"Oh..."
Then the implications of that name hit me.
"OH!"
I stumble into a salute from earth with my hand to my brow, accidentally clicking my heels together; a rather unfortunate habit picked up from a... darker part of my military history.
Declan laughs simply, and immediately, the creepy aura he's been throwing off is dispelled. He seems a strange looking, but completely approachable man.
"As your exclamation suggests, you've already figured it out. And yes, The Second Lieutenant and I are married."
I manage a half nod and stare slightly open-mouthed.
"Huh."
"Mary tells me you have the potential to become my first Lieutenant. Your stats alone are impressive, and the technique you hold your sword with seems trained... But possibly with a lighter sword. I can't help but think... sorry, I'm rambling. Your mind must be brimming. Any questions?"
Dozens of questions are racing through my mind. Far too many to ask at once. So I start with the ones bothering me the most.
"Um. If you're the Lancer, and Mary's superior, then why were you in her office instead of the other way around, and why did you dismiss the others by her order?"
He smiles slyly. I'm beginning to get the impression his whole bad guy demeanour earlier was just an act to psych me out.
"I like to keep my position more of a phantom than a physical being. I don't have an office, and only a few people know who I really am. It keeps the soldiers... suppressed in a way. They don't question the command of the Lancer because they don't know who he is. Most know me as Declan, Swordstyle Instructor."
"So why are you trusting me with this classified information."
He shrugs with a smile and a shake of his head.
"I'm not. Mary trusts you, and by proxy, so must I."
I ask him a few more questions as I feel the stab wound in my stomach slowly fade.
I learn that as the Lancer, he and a select group of maybe a dozen fighters usually take care of tier three and higher threats. They exist outside of any of the divisions.
I learn that Declan is a draugar, some sentient undead, and the species bonus grants him a massive boost to the effectiveness of his mind stat. He's a mind focused fighter, with a sword of the same strength as my own, just blessed by another God.
I'm about to continue my line of interrogation when he holds up his hand and stops me.
"My twice will answer any more questions you have in due time. For now, I've decided to teach you."
"Teach me what?"
He shrugs off his long coat and from the middle of his back, shimmering, admiral blue wings spread.
"To fly, Ms Cass. And to fight."