"I have to admit, you surprised me."

Lane turned away from the beat-up wooden target in front of him, pulling his halberd that was embedded into the wood out of it in the process. His body was covered with sweat and not just his arms, but his entire body felt heavy. Just like yesterday he'd lost his sense of time and become immersed in his training. Every move he performed felt like it solidified his skills, bringing him one step closer to where he felt he should be. But it was progressing slowly. His body was still holding him back; the sense of incongruity between his mind and muscles causing him to perform mistakes all the time. Nothing that'd affect him in a fight with something like the hobgoblin, but definitely enough to cause his death if he thought something truly dangerous. And it annoyed him.

Resting the butt of his halberd on the stone floor, Lane looked at Brigadier General Quentrell. He was standing a few feet away from Lane, leaning against another training dummy. Most of the Summoned in the group that he had been instructing had left the training hall. Only a dozen or so were still here, practicing their swings and attacks on the other dummies. Two men were sparring in one of the dueling circles. Lane actually recognized one of them to be from the same batch as him, but he didn't know more than that of the man.

"When you said you had 'some experience', I was expecting you to be mediocre at best." Quentrell smiled. "But you've been training for a long time, haven't you? There are still flaws in your form, and you're not even close to being able to perform some of the things you were trying, but you're good." He pushed off the dummy and walked closer to Lane. "Davenrish, was it? Lane Davenrish?"

"Yes, Brigadier General." Lane said between breaths.

"You don't have to call me by my rank. I'm not much for formality, and you're neither one of my subjects or subordinates. Just call me Quentrell. Makes things easier."

That lifted one problem off his shoulders. He was afraid the man would have been offended when he didn't address him as a noble. "Alright, if it's fine with you." Lane said.

"So," Quentrell said, placing his hand on Lane's shoulder. "How about a spar?"

"...What?"

"A spar. I did promise you one, didn't I? I decided that there wasn't much point in pitting you against the other newbies. I doubt any of them would stand a chance, so I'll spar with you instead. I want to get a clear idea of your skill, and the best way for that is a fight."

He was right. Lane hadn't paid too much attention to the others while he trained, but from what he did see, none of the others would pose him much of a challenge. Some of them were decent, but he was still certain that they weren't on his level. Even if he wasn't quite sure where that level was. But a fight against a living legend might help him with that. "I'm not sure I'm fit to fight right now, though."

"It's fine," Quentrell said, removing his hand from Lane's shoulder. "I'll give you some more time to get used to your new weapon. There are still a few more days before the real duels begin. We can have our little spar right before that." He turned around and started walking away. "That's all I wanted to say. Today's session ended thirty minutes ago. Every minute in this place is precious for someone like me, so I'll be leaving now. I'll see you again tomorrow. Try not to be late."

With that, Quentrell left the training hall, leaving a tired Lane to catch his breath and cool down from an exhausting session.

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

Later that day, Lane sat at a table outside the cafeteria where he'd eaten the day before. A plate of hot stew and dark bread lay in front of him. While he'd been caught up in his training, several hours had passed and the day was well into the afternoon by the time he left the training hall. Already starting to feel hungry despite eating right before he left in the morning, he'd gone to Lela's cafeteria right away. Of course, calling it a cafeteria wasn't entirely correct as it was more like a restaurant, but the feel of it was closer to the cafeterias he'd seen in Haeryn, his home town, so that was what he called it.

Lela had welcomed him with bright eyes and had immediately gotten him his food. From the looks of it, there still weren't many customers at this place — which didn't surprise him. He'd bought relatively cheap equipment but he could still only barely afford one meal a day. There were bound to be a lot of people like the Sheppard siblings who used most of their points on their weapons, unaware of the price of food during this test. There were a few more people in the cafeteria today compared to yesterday, but only two of the others had actually bought anything.

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"Still not much work, I see." He said as he blew on his stew.

Lela, who was currently sitting across the table from him, pouted slightly as he pointed out the lack of business. Like earlier, her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail with only a few strands hanging over her forehead and her dark green eyes. "It's because you people are more stingy than I thought." She grumbled.

While he felt slightly offended when she referred to him and the other Summoned as 'you people', he didn't show much of it on his face. Rather, he kept on eating his food as usual. "If you'd lower the prices, you're bound to get more people willing to pay." He said, taking a bite out of his bread. He didn't mind having her being there as he ate. In fact, he'd been the one to invite her to sit with him as she had nothing else to do. There were a few things he wanted to talk about. Plus, he enjoyed her company a bit. She was only around his sister's age and it felt good not having to worry about slipping up and saying something that would make a Summoned suspicious about his lack of knowledge but might not mean much to a fellow native.

Lela shook her head. "My mom decides the prize. I don't think she would change it even if the General himself asked her to. Besides, I'm sure people will start buying more food when the duels start and they start getting points." Letting out a long sigh, she rested her chin on her hand. "But it's just soo boring. Except for you, we've literally only had four other customers. All I do is sit around and wait. I've got no one to talk to."

Lane raised his eyebrows as he looked at her. "Even if they aren't customers, there are still people resting here, right? You don't seem to have any reservations around me, so why don't you talk to them?"

"They all just look at me like I'm some kid. Besides, I don't know anything about what you newly Summoned like to talk about, and none of them have anything they want to ask me like you did. What am I supposed to talk to them about?"

He glanced around at the folk seated around the tables. Some seemed to be asleep, while the others didn't look too inviting. There were bound to be more amongst the Summoned that was as social as Rachel had been, but it certainly wasn't these people. "I see what you mean." He said, inclining his head. "But is there really nothing else for you to do? You're supposed to grow faster in this place, so can't you do some training when you're free?"

"I think that only counts for you Summoned. Us Natives don't get anything from it." She said.

Natives don't get anything from it? That couldn't be true. It'd mean that he have a significant handicap compared to the others. His thoughts wandered to Brigadier General Quentrell's word earlier in the day. 'Every minute in this place is precious for someone like me'. Wasn't he referring to the increase in growth this place yielded? Claire had even said that was one of the reasons the instructors were here.

"Are you sure it doesn't affect Natives? I heard Barret Quentrell is here as an instructor. He's a Native, isn't he?" Lane asked.

Lela's eyes shone briefly at the mention of Quentrell. "He's different! He's unique, and he's got that interface thing you guys get. I don't really know much about all that, but I'm sure it works differently for him." Her voice was filled with reverence.

Lane observed her for a few seconds. While that sounded like good news to him, perhaps it was best to double-check it with someone else. He might be able to probe Quentrell himself about it if he was careful.

"Wait," Lela seemed to realize something as she eyed his halberd leaning next to them. "Did you meet him!?" She leaned closer to him over the table.

"Yes, earlier today. He asked me for a spar."

Her eyes widened. "Really? 'The Divine Wind' Barret Quentrell asked you for a spar?!" She looked at him in disbelief for a moment, before squinting her eyes. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

Lane chuckled. "Of course not. I wouldn't lie to a kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"A young adult then." He shook his head. "He really did ask me for a spar."

"Why would he ask you for that?" She still didn't seem to quite believe him.

"Because I'm that good." Just don't ask me how.

"Good enough to fight the strongest man in all of Coldoan?"

"Well, no. Probably not. I just recently became a Summoned, after all. I'm sure he's much stronger than I am." He said.

"But according to him, none of the other people using a pole-arm stand much of a chance against me right now. He seemed to think that was enough of a reason to fight me."

The doubtful look on Lela's face had changed into one of interest. "You're really that good?"

Lane just shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, I'm not sure. Remember; I'm new around here. I don't know how strong a normal Summoned is, or what's normal for the Colosseum." He grabbed the last piece of his bread and dipped it in the stew, glancing up at Lela. "I did kill a hobgoblin by myself before we arrived here though." At least he knew that wasn't something your normal person could do. Even his father, with his years of experience in the Duchy's military, probably couldn't do that. Not that his father was particularly strong or high-ranked.

"I don't think killing a hobgoblin is that impressive?" She said. It was unclear whether she meant it as a question or a statement. "I've seen my mom kill stronger things than that as if they were nothing."

"Isn't your mother a powerful Summoned?" He pointed out.

She looked into the air as if she was remembering something. "Mm. But this was five years ago — before she adopted me. I think she'd only been a Summoned for a year or so. She saved me when my village was attacked by monsters from the Blasted Lands."

"You're village is close to the Blasted Lands?"

"It used to be close to the border between the Blasted Lands and Vis." Her voice rang somewhat hollow.

Used to be.

Lane paused his eating as he realized the meaning behind that statement. "I see...I'm sorry."