Nodding, Kain steps forward, letting his gaze wander over the racks. Finally, his eyes settle on a sleek spear, its shaft crafted from a blackened, lightweight alloy etched with glowing runes. The blade at its tip shimmers faintly, a silvery sheen that almost looks liquid under the forge’s light. He picks it up, feeling its perfect balance in his hands.
As he twirls it experimentally, testing its weight and flow, Kain feels a spark of something familiar yet exciting. This… this feels right, he thinks, gripping the spear tighter as he turns back to Rune, waiting for his reaction.
Rune watches Kain grip the spear, his grin widening as he gives an encouraging nod. With a flick of his chin, he gestures toward a metallic humanoid standing in the center of the rune. “Go on, lad. We don't have all day now.”
Taking the subtle hint, Kain plants his feet, the spear balanced in his hands. His body tenses, instincts kicking in as fragments of his martial arts training flash through his mind—faces of instructors, memories of countless fights some his...some not, but now a part of him, and in it all the electric rush of adrenaline as his heart beat like a steady drum. With a deep breath, he lunges at the metallic figure.
Though he’s never formally trained with a spear, Kain’s years of experience as a fighter fill in the gaps. He adapts quickly, using the spear’s length to maintain control of the fight, slashing and jabbing at the humanoid with measured precision. His strikes flow with a sharp, unpracticed aggression, a blend of instinct and experience.
I’ve fought enough spear users to know how they think, he muses, his mind flashing back to past tournaments and street fights. Despite never picking up the weapon himself, he’s faced plenty who did—fighters who underestimated the Grandmaster Champion known as las Manos de Dios. And as Kain steps into each attack, that title feels almost tangible again, his movements embodying years of discipline and raw talent.
The metallic figure shifts, reacting to his movements with mechanical precision, but Kain’s relentless strikes begin to overwhelm it. Each slash, jab, and pivot flows into the next as he carves through the simulation, the spear an extension of his will. His footwork mirrors his unarmed combat experience, keeping him nimble and balanced, closing in when necessary and creating distance to control the fight.
Rune watches with a gleam of approval in his eye, arms crossed as he nods subtly. “Aye,” he mutters under his breath. “The lad’s got it.”
Haley leans against a nearby rack, smirking as she watches. “Not bad, rookie,” she calls out. “Didn’t peg you for the spear type, though.”
Kain doesn’t answer, his focus locked on the fight, but a small grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. Maybe I should’ve picked up a spear a long time ago, he thinks, driving the blade forward in one final, decisive thrust.
Kain wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, setting the spear aside with a grin. “Alright, let’s see what else you’ve got,” he says, glancing at Rune.
Rune crosses his arms, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Aye, lad. Go ahead. Let’s see what suits ya.”
Kain begins moving down the racks, picking up weapon after weapon, each one more unique than the last. He handles each with a natural grace, as though he were born to wield them. At first, Rune and Haley watch with casual appreciation, Haley even throwing in a few teasing remarks. But as Kain’s impossible mastery over each weapon unfolds, their smiles fade, replaced by wide-eyed astonishment.
Kain picks up a sleek, glowing whip made of pure energy. As he snaps it experimentally, the crack echoes like a thunderclap, and the whip extends far beyond its physical length, shimmering like liquid lightning. He twirls it in a wide arc before snapping it forward. The glowing line lashes out and coils tightly around the metallic humanoid, the sound of bending steel echoing through the room. With a practiced pull, Kain yanks it off balance, slamming the humanoid into the floor with a metallic crunch.
Rune’s bushy brows knit together, his arms folding across his chest as he grunts. “A whip, aye? Not exactly a common choice.” His voice is skeptical, but there’s a flicker of grudging respect in his tone. “Takes years to learn how to work one of those without tearin’ yer own damn face off. You’ve got the wrist for it, I’ll give ye that.”
Kain glances over, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “What can I say? I’m good with my hands.” His tone is smooth, cocky, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes that belies the easygoing attitude. “Besides, I’ve got a lot of practice wrangling things that don’t want to play nice.”
Haley, who had been watching in silence up until now, raises an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, really? You’re just naturally good with all that?” She gestures vaguely at the glowing whip. “What are you, some kinda weapon-wielding prodigy?”
Rune snorts. “Either that, or you’re a bloody showoff.”
Haley smirks, throwing a teasing glance Kain’s way. “Oh, I definitely think he’s showing off. But damn, I gotta admit, it’s pretty impressive.”
“Do you moonlight as an intergalactic cowboy, or is this some secret circus gig you forgot to mention?” Haley blurts, her arms crossing as she leans forward.
Rune, his tone edged with disbelief, mutters, “Lad, no one handles a whip like that without years of trainin’. What’re ye, born with it in yer blood?”
Kain just shrugs, “Lucky guess?” he offers with a smirk, but there’s a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Haley snorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, sure. Totally normal. Just whip-wielding 101 that everyone skipped in high school.”
Kain shrugs as the whip retracts, glowing faintly in his hand. “Guess I’m a quick learner.” He finishes as the whip vanishes back into its hilt.
Next, Kain picks up a bastard sword, its blackened alloy blade gleaming faintly under the forge’s light, runes etched along the fuller. It’s heavy in design, yet perfectly balanced for switching between one-handed speed and two-handed power. Kain tests its weight in one hand before gripping it with both, his stance shifting fluidly as he steps toward the humanoid.
With a low exhale, he moves. The strikes come heavy and deliberate at first—brutal two-handed cleaves that bite into the metallic frame with a satisfying crunch. But then he switches it up, seamlessly flowing into nimble one-handed arcs, his movements a deadly mix of precision and flair. The humanoid’s arm clatters to the floor, severed cleanly in a single calculated blow.
Rune strokes his beard, watching in silence for a long moment before speaking. “That sword’s a tricky bastard to wield—pun intended. Too many fighters try to muscle their way through it, and they’re either too slow or they trip over themselves.” His gaze sharpens. “But you… it’s like the damn thing was made for you. How the hell does a lad from wherever-the-hell-you-came-from learn that?”
Kain rests the sword on his shoulder, rolling his neck casually as if he hadn’t just dismantled a combat dummy with surgical precision. “Learned a lot of things where I’m from. Some of ‘em you pick up ‘cause you have to.” His voice dips, carrying an edge of something darker, something hard-earned. “When you spend enough time fighting to keep your head above water, you figure out how to make anything in your hands work for you. Even if it’s not supposed to.”
Rune’s lips twitch slightly, impressed but hiding it behind his usual gruff demeanor. “Sounds like a rough life. But you fight like someone who enjoys it.”
Kain’s smirk grows, razor-sharp and faintly self-deprecating. “Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of… anger issues.”
Haley tilts her head, eyeing him with a mixture of admiration and mild suspicion. “Anger issues, huh? Well, I’ll take your word for it, but for real now—are you some kinda video game character? Like, did you get stats dumped into ‘master everything’ while the rest of us are out here grinding for XP. It's seriously freaky.” She tosses him a playful wink. “you are definitely some kinda secret weapon-wielding prodigy.”
Kain winks back, his grin widening. “Careful, sweetheart. Keep complimenting me and I’ll start thinking you’ve got a thing for me.”
She rolls her eyes, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Please, I’ve got enough bad boys in my life to last me a lifetime. And you’re definitely the ‘recovering bad boy’ type.”
Rune grunts, his approval evident. “A bastard sword’s a tricky weapon, lad. Not every fighter can balance its strength and finesse. But you…” He narrows his eyes. “You handle it like it’s an extension of yer own body.”
Haley gestures vaguely with her hands, her voice rising. “He handles everything like it’s an extension of his body! At this point, he could pick up a broomstick and make it a legendary weapon.”
Next, Kain picks up a longsword and matching shield. Both gleam with enchanted steel, the sword’s blade straight and elegant while the shield bears a crest of a phoenix rising from flames. The pair feel surprisingly light in his hands as he shifts into a stance, his body moving like it remembers something long buried.
When the humanoid lunges, Kain raises the shield in a flash, the blow glancing off with a resonant clang. He counters immediately, the longsword slicing through the air with ruthless efficiency. Each movement is purposeful, fluid—his shield slams forward like a weapon in its own right, creating an opening for the blade to dart in, sharp and merciless. The humanoid doesn’t stand a chance.
Haley stares at him, her expression torn between disbelief and frustration. “Nah. Nope. You don’t just do that. You don’t just pick up a sword and shield and suddenly you’re Aragorn at Helm’s Deep.”
Rune nods, scratching his beard. “Aye, shield work ain’t easy. Most folk forget it’s just as much a weapon as a defense. But you’ve got the instincts for it.”
Haley throws up her hands. “Oh, sure, instincts! Because that explains it. Must be instincts to be a one-man medieval army!”
Kain glances at the shield, tapping it thoughtfully. “You learn to use everything when you’re outnumbered. Sometimes the best offense is just stopping someone else’s.”
Rune’s expression softens—just slightly. “Hmm. Sounds like you’ve been fightin’ alone for too long.”
Kain doesn’t answer, his face briefly unreadable as he sets the shield down. Then, as if on cue, his cocky grin slides back into place. “You get used to it. Besides, I like the challenge.”
Haley watches, her voice laced with amusement. “That’s, like, the most classic ‘lone wolf’ response I’ve ever heard. You really need to get some friends who don’t think they’re about to get stabbed by you.”
Kain turns, flashing a grin her way. “I’m working on it, princess. But I'll admit—I’m better at making other people think I’m the one they should be worried about.”
Next, Kain picks up a small, unassuming weapon with an industrial, blocky design. He studies it for a moment before aiming at the metallic humanoid. With a faint hum, the ray gun fires a thin, concentrated beam of energy, striking its target with pinpoint accuracy. The beam leaves a glowing, searing mark on the humanoid’s metallic chest, and Kain spins the weapon in his hand like a cowboy from an old Western, already calculating its balance and capabilities.
Haley’s mouth drops open as she points at him. “What the—did he just…spin that thing? Like he’s in a sci-fi spaghetti Western?”
Rune grunts. “Aye. I’ve seen gunslingers who’d envy that aim, but how the hell does he know how to handle it so clean?”
Then, Kain picks up a sleek rail gun, its design a perfect marriage of industrial brutality and futuristic elegance. The hum of its energy cores fills the room, and when Kain pulls the trigger, the high-velocity projectile explodes from the barrel with a deafening crack. The shot tears straight through the humanoid and punches into the wall behind it. The recoil sends a shock up his arms, but Kain adjusts in an instant, firing again with eerie precision.
Haley’s eyes widen slightly as she watches the destruction unfold. “Okay, that’s a bit much, don’t you think?” Her voice is a mix of awe and nervous laughter. “Like, I’m pretty sure you could blow a hole through the entire building with that thing.”
Rune’s eyes narrow, the usual disapproval etched into his face. “Alright, lad, that’s enough. You’ll bring the bloody roof down with that thing!” He steps forward, glaring. “And you’d better hope you didn’t hit anything valuable, or we’re both in the shite.”
Kain turns toward Rune, casually spinning the massive gun in his hands like it weighs nothing. His grin is full of mischief. “C’mon, old man, where’s your sense of adventure? Besides, I figured if it didn’t kill me, it wouldn’t kill the roof.”
Haley crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, lucky for you, the roof isn’t the one that’s gonna have to explain this to the higher-ups.”
Rune growls. “One of these days, that cocky attitude of yours is going to get you in serious trouble.”
Kain tosses the rail gun back onto the rack with a clatter, spreading his arms wide. “Not to me, though. I've got the Devils Luck.”
Belmont’s voice cuts through his mind, low and stern: “Luck eventually runs thin, Kain. Your recklessness will get you killed one of these days, and you’ll be left with nothing but your cocky grin and regret.”
Doc’s voice is smooth, almost amused, right on the heels of Belmont’s warning: “Oh, come on, Belmont. Let the kid enjoy himself. What’s the point of being this… ‘chosen one’ if you can’t have a little fun with it? Honestly, Kain, you’ve got to stop being so worried about ‘trouble’—embrace it! Live a little. Let’s see what you can really do when you push that line.”
Kain smirks, pushing the voices back as he glances at the others.
Rune shakes his head, muttering under his breath. “Bloody reckless, mouthy bastard. Shame you’re so damn talented.”
Kain’s grin flickers—just for a second—before he pulls it back into place. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Belmont growls inside Kain’s mind: “always joking, boy. This is exactly why you’re on the edge—because you refuse to take things seriously. You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Doc laughs, his voice dripping with dark amusement: “Yeah, yeah, ‘dangerous game,’ Belmont. Kain likes to live in the moment. And, let’s face it, trouble’s his middle name. He is the game. Has no one ever told you being a hero means having some fun along the way?”
By the time Kain set the rail gun down, Haley is pacing, running a hand through her hair. “This is insane. I’m officially calling it: you’re not human. You’re, like, a weapon-charming alien or some magical prodigy raised by the government. It’s the only explanation!”
Rune, arms crossed, nods solemnly. “I’ll admit, lass… it’s beginnin’ to seem that way.”
Haley stops pacing and turns, jabbing a finger at Kain snapping him from his internal conversations. “Don’t even try to deny it, rookie. Normal people don’t pick up a ray gun and pull a John Wick. I swear, if you pull out some secret ‘chosen one’ nonsense, I’m out.”
Kain just smirks, raising his hands in mock innocence. “No chosen one nonsense, I promise. I’m just… adaptable.”
Haley glares at him, muttering under her breath, “Adaptable my ass…”
Kain picks up a plain-looking hilt, eyeing it with the kind of curiosity that’s quickly turning into a cocky confidence. The second his fingers wrap around it, a blade of crackling light bursts to life. He twirls it, the weapon humming with power as it leaves a trail of energy in the air. Every move is sharp, fluid, like he’s been wielding it for a lifetime—except, you know, he hasn’t.
Rune watches, lips pressed tight, his brow furrowing deeper as Kain dances around the humanoid, slicing through it like it’s made of butter. It’s too smooth, too effortless.
“What in the hell…” Rune mutters under his breath. “A natural savant with a weapon he’s never even seen before? That’s… that ain’t normal.”
Haley snorts, still leaning against the rack, a half-amused, half-pissed look on her face. “Not normal? Yeah, no kidding. At this point, you’re more like a freakin’ weapon magnet.”
Kain shoots her a grin, not even breaking a sweat as he slices through the humanoid like it’s just another day at the office. “Guess you could say I’m just built different.”
Belmont growls, his voice cutting through Kain’s mind like a blade:
“Keep pushing your luck, boy. You’re getting too cocky, and that attitude’s gonna bite you when you least expect it.”
Doc laughs, his voice like velvet wrapped in smoke, light and casual:
“Oh, I don’t know, Belmont. It’s fun watching him push boundaries. He’s got this, let him have his moment. Why fight what comes naturally?”
Kain ignores the two, his mind focused on the next weapon in line: a sleek, magical bow hanging on the wall, glowing faintly. The string hums with power as he pulls it back, and instead of physical arrows, a bolt of pure energy forms, crackling with raw potential. He draws back, his eyes narrowing as he fires the first shot. The energy arrow flies straight and true, slamming into the humanoid’s shoulder with a burst of light. Before the target even has time to recover, Kain’s got three more arrows loosed, each one finding its mark like he’s been doing this all his life.
Rune’s face tightens further, his gruff tone low but edged with a hint of grudging respect. “Archery takes years of practice, lad. How the hell are you making it look like a damn child’s game?”
Haley raises an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she crosses her arms. “seriously, Who needs to train when you’ve got whatever freakish gift you’ve got going on?”
Kain shrugs as he lowers the bow, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess I’ve had a lot of practice… with everything.” he says, though even he’s surprised at how naturally the weapon fits into his grip, how easy it feels to wield how quickly another’s experiences become his own.
Doc purrs in Kain’s mind, the smoothness of his voice impossible to ignore:
“That’s the way, Kain. Let it all come to you. You don’t need to try. You just… are. Imagine the possibilities. You could be untouchable.”
Belmont’s voice is a low growl, sharp and disapproving:
“You’re not invincible, Kain. Stop thinking you are. One day, that reckless attitude’s gonna cost you everything.”
Kain, still grinning, glances at Haley and Rune, clearly enjoying it all. “What can I say? I’m just getting warmed up. Might as well have fun while I’m at it, right?”
Kain’s gaze shifts to two weapons displayed together, their auras clashing in stark contrast.
The first is a massive, metallic club—primal and modern, like a macuahuitl but with sleek, crystalline blades shimmering with a holy glow. It feels heavier than it looks, but when Kain hefts it in one hand, the weight is balanced, and the room seems to brighten as the weapon radiates an aura of judgment, like it’s testing him.
The second is an ancient lance, carved with demonic patterns that pulse faintly with dark power. It feels heavier in his other hand, the air around it thickening, the weapon almost vibrating as if responding to his touch. The energy around it feels wild and dangerous, a perfect match for Kain’s chaotic edge.
Kain takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he adjusts to the sheer size and raw energy of both weapons. He moves like he’s done this before, fluidly striking with the lance and the macuahuitl, his movements surgical, precise. Each strike is a perfect counterbalance to the other: destructive force with the lance, holy precision with the macuahuitl.
Rune watches, his eyes narrowing as the fight unfolds. “Hell’s teeth…” he mutters under his breath, gruff disbelief in his voice. “A lad who can swing both of ‘em like that? That ain’t normal. Ain’t natural.”
Haley, eyes wide, leans back against the weapon rack, her jaw slightly slack. “Okay, wow. I take back everything I said. That’s not impressive—that’s insane.”
Kain lowers the weapons, a grin spreading across his face as he glances at the pair. “Those were pretty damn cool,” he says, clearly impressed by how they handled, even if he’s trying to keep it casual. “The macuahuitl and the lance? These really stood out.”
Rune strokes his beard, eyes scanning the two massive weapons. “Lad,” he begins, voice a mixture of amusement and incredulity, “you do know those two ain’t exactly… standard gear, yeah? You tryin’ to dual-wield them together? It’s not just a challenge; it’s damn near suicidal for most folks.”
Haley crosses her arms, leaning in. “Seriously. Who even thought it was a good idea to pair a holy bladed-club with a demonic lance? Yeah, that’s balanced…” Her voice is laced with her signature sarcastic bite.
Kain shrugs, unfazed. “Yeah, well, I handled ‘em fine, didn’t I?” He glances down at the weapons, sizing them up. “I’ll take them.”
Rune chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer, his tone shifting to something a little more serious. “Aye, you did handle ‘em… but that don’t mean they’re for the takin’. These are special. They’ve been sittin’ here for fifty years, lad. Meant to inspire the rookies, not be handed out like a set of tools from a market stall.”
Kain blinks, a little thrown off. “What do you mean? They’re right here, right?”
Rune’s eyes soften just a touch as he gestures to the weapons, his voice lowering. “These weapons… they’re not just steel and magic. They were left by my old clan, warriors who fought battles you wouldn’t even believe. Legends. These weapons aren’t just relics; they’re the souls of those who used them.” He pauses, his hand brushing over the macuahuitl, the holy glow still faintly pulsing. “I can’t just give them away. Not to anyone.”
Haley looks at Rune with a newfound respect, her arms uncrossing as she glances back at Kain. He catches the look, realizing how much those weapons mean to the old blacksmith.
Kain nods slowly, stepping back from the weapons. “I get it. Those weapons are part of your history. I wouldn’t want to take that away.”
Rune gives him a grunt of approval before his usual gruff tone returns. “Good lad. Don’t go thinkin’ you’re leaving here empty-handed, though.” He gestures toward the forge. “You wanted somethin’ special? I’ll craft you something that fits your style perfectly—something to match the fire I’ve seen in you. But you’ll wait. You come back in a month, and I’ll have somethin’ ready.”
Kain’s grin returns, the cocky gleam never leaving his eyes. “Alright, Rune. I’ll be back for it. Let’s see what you can make.”
Rune lets out a boisterous laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the forge as he slaps Kain on the back. The force nearly knocks Kain off balance. “Hahaha! You’ve got guts, lad. Now, get goin’! You’ve got a whole damn month to go be a hero or whatever the hell it is you’re doin’.” With surprising speed, Rune shoves them both out the door, his booming voice following them into the street. “Shoo!”