After Cladwill's lecture ended, the recruits were led to a large adjoining hall—its walls lined with racks upon racks of weapons, gleaming under the torchlight. Swords, spears, axes, glaives, maces, bows—dozens of styles, shapes, and sizes were laid out before them like an ancient arsenal.
A seasoned soldier stood near the entrance, arms folded. His name tag read Ron Clarson—grizzled, scarred, and clearly experienced.
"Many of you are already familiar with these weapons," Ron said, his voice firm. "For now, take whichever you believe suits you. If it doesn't work out, you'll have the chance to replace it later."
He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd.
"But if it were me…" he added, tapping the hilt of his own blade, "I'd choose one weapon—and master it completely."
The moment he finished, the room came to life. Students hurried toward the weapon racks, eyes wide with excitement and nerves.
"I'm going for a sword and shield combo," said Jack, already reaching for a well-balanced longsword and a sturdy, round shield.
Duke nodded in approval. "Good choice. You get both attack and defense."
He turned toward the racks, scanning them thoughtfully. "I'll take a broadsword," Duke said, grabbing a sleek, medium-length blade. "I want both speed and power."
The two friends tested their weapons with a few light swings, gauging their weight and feel.
Just then, Duke's eyes flicked across the room to where Kairoz stood, calmly observing the weapons.
"Which one do you think he'll pick?" Jack asked.
"Probably a sword," Duke replied.
As if on cue, Kairoz stepped forward and chose two medium-length broadswords, one in each hand. The blades gleamed coldly in the torchlight.
"Dual blades," Jack muttered, impressed. "He doesn't mess around."
Nearby, Darius reached for a long, full-metal spear with twin pointed tips.
"This will do," he said, inspecting the craftsmanship. "I prefer precision and reach."
Samaira wandered the rows of weapons, eyes curious and eager. She turned to Ron, raising a hand.
"Hey, sir—what's the most difficult weapon to use?"
Ron chuckled. "Probably glaives or polearms. They need control, strength, and balance."
"In that case," Samaira said boldly, "I'll take the glaive."
Touka blinked. "Just like that? You didn't even hesitate."
"Exactly!" Samaira grinned. "You should take a glaive too."
Touka took a step back, alarmed. "No, no—thanks. I'm taking a sword. Something normal."
"You're missing out!" Samaira laughed, twirling her chosen glaive like a staff—then accidentally thumped it on the ground, startling herself.
Drex quietly made his way to the weapon racks, his body still bandaged but his eyes sharp with determination. He passed by rows of blades and staffs until his gaze landed on a pair of heavy metal gloves, their surfaces engraved with intricate lines and reinforced knuckles.
He slipped them on, flexing his fingers.
"There's something here for me after all," he muttered with a small grin.
Around the room, the rest of the students continued testing and selecting their weapons—some with excitement, others with hesitation.
But then… the atmosphere shifted.
A hush fell over the group.
All eyes slowly turned toward one figure still standing back—Vairan.
A few students whispered quietly, barely above a breath.
"That guy's a monster…"
"What's he going to pick?"
The tension was almost physical as Vairan finally moved forward, his steps slow, deliberate, and silent.
He reached the front row of weapons and stood still, eyes scanning the deadly arsenal before him.
His gaze was unreadable.
A few steps to the side, Regan, another top-ranked student, was also browsing the weapons. He was known for his composure and sharp instincts, but even he couldn't help glancing at Vairan out of the corner of his eye.
Then Vairan stopped—before a pair of massive double axes, forged from dark steel and wickedly sharpened.
He reached out, resting his hand on the cold metal, then lifted one to inspect it—its weight seemingly effortless in his grip.
As he turned the axe slightly, his gaze locked with Regan's.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, unexpectedly, **Vairan smiled.**
It wasn't a warm smile. It was quiet. Unsettling.
Regan froze, a chill running down his spine. He could feel his heart pounding harder against his chest.
"This will do," Vairan said calmly, slinging both axes over his shoulders like they belonged there all along.
Regan swallowed hard, trying to suppress the sudden rush of nerves.
The rest of the room remained silent, disturbed not by the weapon Vairan had chosen—but by how natural it looked in his hands.
As everyone finished choosing their weapons, **Ron Clarson** stepped forward, clapping his hands once to get their attention.
"Alright! Now that you've all picked your weapons," he said, his voice loud and commanding, "go out and get familiar with them."
He gestured toward the massive training grounds beyond the hall—expansive fields, dense trees, scattered stone targets, and a steep trail leading toward the nearby mountains.
"This area has everything you need. Cut trees, strike boulders, test your reach, balance, and strength. Use the stone dummies, climb the hills, challenge the terrain—whatever it takes. The entire ground is built for you to train like real soldiers."
He pointed toward the distant slopes.
"If you want to train on the mountain paths, go ahead. That's where real grit is built."
The students began to scatter across the field, weapons in hand, each ready to carve their path in the dirt, stone, and silence.
"Duke, let's train together," Jack called out, stretching his arms.
"Sure, why not," Duke replied with a nod.
"Hey, Drex!" Duke added, waving him over. "Wanna join us?"
Drex looked at the two of them for a moment, then gave a small shrug. "Yeah... sure."
As the three of them grouped up near one of the larger training stones, Drex crossed his arms and smirked slightly. "You two are pretty friendly for newcomers."
Duke chuckled. "Hah, honestly? Most of them are."
"Nahhh," Drex said, shaking his head. "Most don't even *dare* to talk to me. Guess being this huge makes people nervous."
"I never felt that," Duke said genuinely. "You're intense, yeah—but not someone to avoid."
"One thing's for sure," Jack added, adjusting his grip on his sword. "You really can't judge people by their faces."
He glanced across the training field toward a group of noble-born recruits practicing in polished gear.
"Take those nobles, for example," Jack muttered. "They *look* all graceful and refined, but inside... some of them are absolute devils."
Drex laughed under his breath. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."
"Should we start?" Jack asked, bouncing slightly on his heels.
"Yeah," said Duke, rolling his shoulders.
Drex nodded calmly. "Let's do it."
"Alright then," Jack said, pointing at a massive boulder nearby. "**We'll take turns striking this thing. Let's see what we've got.**"
"Sounds good," Drex replied.
"Let's fire it up!" Duke added with a grin.
Jack stepped forward first, sword in one hand, shield strapped tightly on the other.
"With this shield, my strikes won't be that powerful… but let's see," he muttered.
He took a stance, charged full speed at the boulder, and slashed with all his might.
**CLANG!**
The impact made his arms rattle. Jack stumbled back, blinking in pain.
"W-what?! It didn't even scratch it!"
"There *is* a scratch," Duke said, squinting. "Look closely."
"Hahaha," Drex laughed lightly.
"Heyyy, come on!" Jack groaned.
"Step aside, kiddo," Duke said, stepping forward confidently.
He raised his broadsword with ease, took a stance, and launched forward.
SLASH!
A clean, 10 to 15-centimeter gash tore through the boulder's surface.
Jack's jaw dropped. "Whaaat?!"
"Like what you see?" Duke grinned. "That's what happens when you train your ass off every morning."
Jack grumbled, "I could do that with one hand too…"
"You *did* try with one hand. You made a 1 cm dent—maybe 2," Duke teased.
"Heyyy! You—!"
"Guys," Drex interrupted, stepping up calmly. "My turn. Step aside."
Duke and Jack moved back, watching curiously.
Drex, wearing his heavy metal gauntlets, cracked his knuckles. Then, without a word, he crouched—and leapt high into the air.
SLAM!
He came crashing down, fist-first, straight into the boulder.
A thunderous boom echoed across the entire training ground. Dust flew in all directions. The ground trembled slightly.
From a distance, Samaira flinched. "What was that?!"
As the dust settled, half the boulder had been obliterated.
Duke and Jack stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
Jack fell to his knees. "Master... please train us!"
Duke's expression was stunned, then slowly lit up. "Th-that… that was *so cool!*"
He turned to Jack. "If we train with him—we can get *so much stronger!*"
The two of them practically glowed with excitement.
Drex rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Hahaha… you guys are seriously embarrassing me right now."