Wood shavings flew as a table saw ripped through its birch victim with precision.
Its sounds were one of many that echoed through the Furniture Department's Plant. Aesthetically, it was distinct from the rest of Chaldea by the little amount of effort given. Cement walls and flooring were coupled with a metal ceiling with rafters for storing larger projects. It had three sliding garage doors with the Chaldea logo, with two leading towards adjacent rooms for the sprawling raw material warehouse and product aesthetical finishing. The only signs of any administrative pieces were at the front desk by the main door, which had a few filing cabinets for the necessary order forms.
As the former Repair Center, it was already well equipped and stocked for constructing household goods. Lathes, steam boxes, drill presses, and other specialized machinery were set up in multiple rows in the center of the large room. Plenty of space was given for the occupants, both human and robotic, to work and maneuver. The walls were stacked with shelving for tools, drying wood products, basic metal components, and other smaller equipment. What was too large, or unrefined, was stored in the adjacent warehouse that was also connected to the Robotics Hanger.
Since its shift in duties, the Plant has been churning out countless furniture pieces for Chaldean residents. Employees could also order their own, though thankfully, many were content to order only two or three extra pieces of personal choice. Servants tended to order more, though none had ever made as large of a requisition order as Marie. The entire facility had ground to a halt in order to construct the salon and properly furnish it to her standard, though the end result earned Supervisor Delaqua and her staff endless prestige and praise even if casters had assisted.
Thankfully, it was the last major project, since Fantasia Resort was handled by the servants in secret; That would have been a nightmare for the staff.
Unlike the Clothing Department, all of the former Repair Center's staff were tradesmen of different specializations. They were engineers, first and foremost, but they were picked by Marisbilly due to a unique set of traits, personality types, age, and personal experiences. Compared to the other groups, theirs got along famously well, especially compared to anyone from the Magecraft Division. They were a united team by definition, and their level of coordination and efficiency had always been unrivaled by any other department save for the leyshift operators.
While they were friendly and welcoming, an individual had to be special to weave themselves into the closely-knit group.
As the supervisor was monitoring an employee as he carefully manipulated a spinning metal lathe, she peeked towards the only one to do so. Many had believed the heroic spirit managed to enter their ranks due to fame or force, at least until Delaqua revealed the real reason. The red muscle shirt wearing servant simply wished to explore a curiosity of his, and he's been of great help ever since. A smile touched her lips as he pulled a few oak planks from a steam box with his bare hands. His well-fit carpenter jeans pressed against a nearby table as he placed the boards down to bend by hand.
She smirked. To think King Leonidas of the famous three hundred Spartans would be so interested in wood and metal working.
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Fragment 39: Managing Oneself and Others
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"Is there something I can help you with… King Leonidas…?" Delaqua asked tentatively as she approached the lancer slowly.
The Spartan turned to her quietly after gazing around the intriguing room. Though he only wore denims and a tight, black muscle shirt, the supervisor had only made eye contact with him. Already she earned tiny respect from the king, since it seemed she was comfortable or familiar with the muscular male form; A fair number of female staff openly eyed him, but the supervisor in a loose-fit uniform didn't. She stood stiff before him, with a noticeable amount of nervousness rather than lust. That would not do, but he was not here to correct someone.
"Are you Supervisor Delaqua?" Leonidas asked with a strong voice. His presence had ground most of the working employees to an intimidated halt.
With a calming inhale, she nodded. "Yes. Are you here to request furniture? We don't have a dedicated staff for the front desk, but I could-"
"That will not be necessary," the Spartan calmly interrupted, before turning his gaze once more at the room that surrounded him. It intrigued him, and he could not recognize many of the items before him. The grail had provided much information for combat purposes, but it clearly lacked in more mundane regards seen as insignificant to the overall picture. "I want furniture, but I am more interested in making it myself."
After sending a startled and perplexed glance to a nearby employee, she looked back at Leonidas. "King Leonidas… Our new purpose here is to assist you with that."
"I understand that, but I will make the furniture myself." His tone left no room for arguments, and it unnerved the supervisor.
After another uncertain look around the room at several staff and robots, she slowly nodded. "If you insist then. Feel free to use what you need, though I only have one request. Please be courteous to my staff and I so we can complete other orders in a timely manner. That's all I ask."
Leonidas' expression remained blank, but she had unknowingly earned another point with him. She had gone from nervous to openly making a request of a servant, let alone a king, which was a notion most staff considered overreaching. Almost all employees in Chaldea were still getting accustomed to different servants' presences and aura, yet some, like Delaqua, were making better headway than most. He could respect that to a small extent, but definitely not as much as someone who would risk their lives at his side in battle.
"That is a reasonable request. I will not stand in the way of any of your workers."
With a relieved breath, she nodded and bowed. "Thank you, King Leonidas."
The workshop soon went back to production. Sounds of drills piercing wood and saw blades spinning filled his ears as he slowly made his way further into the room. He stood tall and proud, with a walk that echoed the prestige of his title and birthright. Leonidas was a Spartan, and showing anything otherwise would be heresy to the belief and pride of himself and his people. As he glanced at an employee working a wood lathe, and another welding two pieces of metal together, he only displayed confidence on his nearly stoic face.
Within his mind, however, there was an unshakable nervousness and anger directed at himself.
His eyes glanced over every machine, trying to comprehend their purpose if no one was using it. What little he witnessed of his own craftsmen, artisans, and workers creating his goods did little to help his comprehension here. While some machines, like the lathes, he could understand and likely use. There were still many that baffled him, and it made him irritatingly nervous at the idea he would be seen as a buffoon. Many of his Spartans were muscle heads and hot-blooded idiots, but he had risen to Kingship as one of the smartest of his time. For him to fail to grasp these unassuming tools, and be nervous about it, was unacceptable to him.
It made him angry, but he would not let it get a hold of him. He was not a hot-blooded idiot.
For the glory of his people, he could not be made a fool here by inanimate objects. He wished for furniture, but his pride would desire it to be made by his hands. If he failed to properly understand a piece of equipment, he could be seen as incompetent, but that's where the problem rested. He could be seen as a muscle head by standing there clueless, or approaching and using a piece of machinery the wrong way. There was the possibility of asking for help but… no. Spartans do not ask for help.
The last time his men got help, the Phocians failed their station and allowed the Persians to surround them.
Leonidas approached his enemy, pushing his nervousness aside with his frustration. The wood lathe before him could not be defeated by spear and shield, but it would lose to him this day. Like the wood shavings beneath his approaching feet, he would crush this opposition and prove his intelligence and pride. He would not be seen as a pure, temperamental muscle head his fellow Spartans were; He was better than that, because he was their king. For the pride of his people, he would not be made a fool here!
"King Leonidas…? Is everything alright?"
Stopped in his tracks, he looked behind him as Delaqua stood patiently. To her confusion, he quickly glanced at the wooden lathe before turning back to the bewildered supervisor. Withholding a sigh, he was about to answer when she interjected. "I apologize. I should have asked before, but would you like a small tour so you know where everything is?"
Right. He needed the raw materials before he could even construct anything. Already he had proven himself to be slightly incompetent in his approach to making furniture. He would not admit any fault, so to save face with the other servants. Chulainn was a great sparring partner, though he would ensure he would never find ammo to toss teasing jabs like he did towards Emiya.
Leonidas nodded firmly and withheld his frustrations. "A tour would be good, if you can spare the time."
"Certainly," the supervisor nodded. "I have no project of my own at the moment, so there's no rush. Let's start with the storage warehouse."
He nodded in agreement. Thankfully she did not prod further.
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"Thanks for helping with the rocking chair for Jing Ke, Leo," Delaqua smiled as she walked back to check on another drying project.
The king chuckled and nodded. "Certainly, Val. I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't enjoy woodworking."
He returned to his work as the supervisor walked away. 'Nine months… Has it really been nine months since then?'
It was a rhetorical question. While keeping track of time was hardly a task, Leonidas could proudly count to the days without much effort. It had only become a commonly known fact by Halloween, but he had a keen interest in Mathematics. His expertise in its extent back then paled in comparison to what he had learned now, but it was what helped him keep his city state in working order. Even as a servant, that interest still lingered, and has only grown after Delaqua managed to break through the Spartan's phalanx.
As a fighter, she chipped away at his strong, stoic disposition as only another warrior could, but he also tore at her façade. Where she found a man too prideful, temperamental, and confident to admit his shortcomings or ask for help, he too unveiled a woman who was far too concerned and fearful of how others perceived her. He did not want to be acknowledged as a muscle head like the rest of his Spartans, but his prideful denial prevented his own potential growth. She was incredibly smart and had a hidden fitness level leagues above her peers, but she lacked the mental resilience to prevent others' opinions from dramatically affecting her.
Leonidas was beyond glad they met that day, since they helped each other in ways no one else might have.
Upon locking the now bent planks into place to dry, the Spartan picked up one small piece of cut lumber that rested on a pile nearby. Brushing the wood shavings off so the measured marker lines were no longer obstructed, he casually approached the wood lathe. Like Delaqua had taught him so many months ago, no longer embarrassed or frustrated to admit it, he secured the piece of material, grabbed some carving tools, and spun up the machine. Systematically and carefully, he began to shape the wood and cared little for the shavings that began to coat him.
Woodworking took equal parts artistic finesse and mathematical precision. Finding proper balance of both had been frustrating for him, but he had endured and endeavored to learn for the sake of his pride. For a man who stood against a sea of Persians in that lonely pass, a piece of wood was not going to deter him. It was not a painstakingly long task as it was in his day, but it allowed for more calculations to note down so the furniture came out identical.
The process was nearly meditation for him, much like sparring or the puzzles introduced to him. While it let him use mathematics in a unique way, it was also physically involved. Both together made it a great way to vent anger in a peaceful manner, as his mind fell distracted with mental notes, numbers, angles, and calculations. It was one of ways that helped him reel in his temperament. Though he found much joy in using his newfound knowledge of math for such a task, it was never as much as fighting.
As the lathe slowly stopped spinning momentarily, he looked towards Delaqua loading a steam box behind him. There were many dangers working with baggier clothing in such an environment, but she was an ace of her trade. With an inquiry in mind, he quickly scanned to make sure no other employees were listening, and confirmed only a robot was nearby; Robots don't gossip. "Did you accept Gabrielle's request?"
Delaqua closed the steam box a little more gently than she normally would. She sighed. "Yea. I did."
"You're certain you wish to step into the ring? You were rattled the last time. I do not wish to see your self-esteem uprooted again."
"We've been over this, Leo. I got carried away too," Delaqua sighed as she took the two work gloves off her hands. "Besides… I'm not fighting Gabrielle this time. It's supposed to be a playful opener to get the crowd excited for the real match that follows. From what she says, many want to see me fight again."
"Can you blame them?" Leonidas smirked, making her chuckle back and shake her head. "You have my spear and shield, as always. I support you."
"I don't wish to impale my opponent, but I'll consider the shield for laughs." With a nod, the lancer turned back to inspect his crafted strut. The raw design was done, but by his calculations there was still plenty of room to get fancy without compromising the piece's integrity. He had plenty of time until lunch.
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Usually bustling with laughter and light hearted conversations, the tension was noticeably higher in the cafeteria. Casual talks and usual activity was still present, but it was noticeably lower as tables occasionally shot stares at the offending duo. Occasionally, the gazes would be redirected to another curious pair, but still the attention for the afternoon was focused towards a side table. Silently, the two servants sitting there ate their meals like the rest of the room, and it was nerve wracking for many.
Watching carefully from his own table, Leonidas sat with crossed arms beside Iskandar, Cu, and Kintoki. While the massive king and Irish lancer were wearing their battle attire for their after-lunch spar, Kintoki had a cleanly pressed white polo that might actually burst due to its fit on the muscular hero. Whether his shirt's durability or the observed table were under more tension could be debated. The four simply stared curiously at the pair of heroes, though only Cu and Leonidas had any reason to as volunteered Peacekeepers.
It was unusual to think it, but this was the reason Okita had asked for some volunteers to look after Karna at lunch. To the room's stunned silence only minutes before, Arjuna had walked up to his table with his own lunch, sat down across from him, and silently ate his meal. Neither made eye contact, nor any form of conversation or greeting. They just sat there eating in silence. Whether it was truly their decision or at someone else's personal request was a mystery. It was unusual and concerning, but it appeared that was all they were going to do.
Still, their table held most of the attention as opposed to Brynhildr and Siegfried nearby. While they were also a possibly worrying case, with the Valkyrie taking a special potion every other day, she was finally in control of herself. Enough control that they started spending time together out of the female lancer's curiosity over Siegfried. No one could blame her considering the origins of the saber, and it at least seemed like the start of a fair friendship as Arash and Paracelsus approached to join them.
Leonidas' eyes quickly shot back to the Indian's shared table. Arjuna had picked up his knife and noticeably glanced, for the first time, at Karna. The lancer paid him no heed as the archer's gaze narrowed barely a fraction, but he saw it. Leonidas and Cu's muscles tensed, as did other observing peacekeepers, only for them to breathe in relief. Arjuna had only glared monetarily, and proceeded to cut up his Tandoori chicken. To be fair, it was almost laughable he would attempt something on Karna with a useless knife as opposed to the legendary weapons to his name. They got riled for little reason but a discontent glare.
"Okita's worries will not come to pass, it seems," Leonidas noted as Arjuna took another calm bite of his food. His own rack of ribs was getting cold.
"We should leave them be," Iskandar asked with a slightly bored tone. He smirked as Leonidas turned to him. "I doubt they will fight, though I would like to see it myself."
"It was one hell of a display," Cu agreed as he relaxed. He turned to the Spartan. "Ah well, maybe you'll see it another time under friendlier conditions. At least there's no peacekeeping emergency for us today."
"Then we should return to lunch. Again, I must thank you for letting me sit with you. My usual company had other plans," Leonidas nodded towards the companions. He casually tore off a rib from its companions as Iskandar loudly opened a bag of chips.
"Same with ours. No idea what Waver is helping Babbage, Edison, and Da Vinci with, but it's sure to be golden!" Kintoki chuckled.
Iskandar merely grinned. "Feel free to sit with us when you please, Leonidas. It is great to accommodate another fellow Greek Ruler!"
While Leonidas had many acquaintances among the servant population, he wasn't actually friends with many of them. His stoic attitude and disposition towards martial discipline, plus his worse temperament back then, kept him from making significant bonds, but Iskandar had been one to bridge the gap. Though he held Achilles in high regard as a personal idol, the King of Conquerors also had some admiration for the legendary three hundred and their exploits. He had proclaimed that such a strong bond between a king and his army is the epitome of trust and respect. Soon after that, and a few spars later, they had become strong allies.
They still had yet to spar the mighty three hundred against the Ionioi Hetairoi, but sadly many, especially Acting Director Roman, did not share their enthusiasm.
"Are you sure you don't wanna have some fun with us, Leonidas?" Cu asked while leaning back on his chair. It was perched on its back two legs.
"Unfortunately, I cannot. I agreed to swap places with Nero for this afternoon's invasion."
Kintoki chuckled at his favorite term for supply sortie. "Golden! So you're on Gabby's team with me!"
"Why did that Empress want to be swapped out…?" Cu pondered out loud as he righted his chair. He picked up his water bottle and unscrewed the cap. "Usually Nero likes spending time searching for possible fashion accessories for Cleopatra and her-"
Someone choked on their lunch behind Leonidas. The lancer curiously turned around to see Robin covering his mouth while his companions were laughing exuberantly. Fergus was clutching his bare chest while Drake was burying her laughter in her red sweater that rested on the table. As the Irish saber patted the back of her white tank top in an attempt to calm both of them down, Robin's face looked equal parts horrified and depressed. He slowly and uncharacteristically slouched in his chair, which caused his green, collared shirt to rise and crumple.
Leonidas eyed the archer curiously. "Are you alright, Robin?"
"Oh yea… spectacular," the archer spat flatly, making his two companions erupt into laughter again. He glared at them. "This isn't funny!"
"To us it is!" Drake chimed in with a devious snicker. Her eyes flashed humorously at him as he grumbled. "Have fun this afternoon, Mister Manager!"
"Can we get the first record copies since we have inside connections?"
"Drake, what do you mean- OH," Kintoki stuttered to a stop before laughing as well. "Leonidas! You've given Robin a golden pass to dine in hell!"
Ignoring the quote from that movie, though he really did like how they portrayed him and his men, he simply turned back to Robin as the archer stared at him in dismay. He knew the orange-haired man used to be much more nihilistic in his beliefs upon summoning, but even this was going further than that. The servant looked like he was about to go through a nightmare, but he couldn't understand why. Whatever he had just caused, he should simply face it like a true warrior, even if the archer admittedly was a tad cowardly. What was so funny that even Kintoki beat him to understanding the-
"Oho?" Iskandar's eyes widened as he smirked at the archer. "I see… Wasn't little Liz trying to find singing time with Nero? Something about a deal made in America?"
Leonidas' eyes slowly widened. Almost nothing would force the brave warrior to break his steeled composure, but the single revelation had done just that. He had subjected Robin to the pits of hell itself, and the sounds of unyielding terror that would inflict untold torment upon his soul. While he believed that was being far more dramatic than necessary about describing their singing, it really was that terrible and fury inducing. How much worse could it get singing together?
"My condolences to you, Robin… but you will make it to the end of this fight like a true warrior. Show no fear! Only courage!"
The archer did not look convinced in the least as he groaned into his hands.
"Like a true warrior, he says!" Fergus bellowed out as he fell out of his chair laughing. "No number of demons could prepare any man for their deadly duet!"
Save for the deployment, the rest of the day would prove rather mundane.
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The next morning started off much more to his personal liking.
"Front leaning rest position! Move!" As one, the ten standing individuals dropped to position their hands against the ground.
Leonidas' arms casually readjusted on the wet, sifting sand of the beach. From his head, to his red board shorts, all the way down to his feet, the Spartan was soaked like the nine individuals roughly in line with him. They too wore various swimsuits and shorts as they struggled to get into a proper pushup position. A wave crashed onto the sandy beach, smashing against their arms and chests while tearing away the grain beneath their hands. They struggled to maintain their position, as some employees wobbled among heaving breaths, but Leonidas was calm and relaxed. The hours of workout calmed his mind of any frustrations.
Yet this was still nothing compared to what home was like.
Spartan training regimes were rigorous, and there was no doubt in his mind most of the staff wouldn't be able to handle it. They weren't fighters born and raised, but merely scientists, mages, engineers, and other specialties. Unforgiving and brutal, the Spartan training would likely kill them, and that would not be ideal in Chaldea; This was not his city state. Regardless, they showed up for the training program, and he would give them the conditioning they needed to be sturdier and more confident individuals.
"Now! Thirty count wave push-ups! Are any of you going to quit now!?" He roared, though the moving waters were hardly deafening to begin with.
"No, sir!" they resonated as one as another wave rushed against their forms. His spiritual presence likely did wonders to inspire them this far past their comfort zone.
"In Cadence! Begin! One-Two-Three!" "One!"
Two pushups in, another wave already struck and threatened to push some into the sand. They held.
"One-Two-Three!" "Two!"
Leonidas kept perfect form and rhythm from his position just ahead of them. No one respected a military leader that doesn't train with their men, and he was glad to learn from Gudao this concept still held to this day. As king, he would train with his troops daily and show them he could stand with them in the hardest of times as one. He was an icon for them to help model themselves after to be better individuals, not just for themselves, but for those to their left, right, and behind. For those in front, he would be the first fearsome visage of their unyielding will and power.
"One-Two-Three!" "Fifteen!" "Ahhh!"
A wave had slammed into the individual to the far left, causing her to lose balance and falter onto the sand. Leonidas' eyes rocketed to the fallen form. "Get up! The longer you take, the longer the rest wait in the tides!"
The woman sputtered furious apologies while scrambling to her weary arms. Leonidas stared at her with a firm gaze, but not one of disgust or frustration. He assured the woman reassumed the correct position before beginning the count again. They had been exercising for an uncounted period of time, and he knew they were at their last ounces of strength by the raspy breaths that resonated over the waves. They were at the ends of their rope, and it was here they would find out who they truly were.
Would they fall or rise? That's what he would make them find out for themselves. "Once more! One-Two-Three!"
Thus, they continued, until the next incident. As the sand sifted beneath their hands from a new receding wave, the person to his direct right faltered to the ground, gasping for breath. He roared once more. "Do not linger in the sands! The others are waiting on you!"
They still had five more counts to go, but the individual was struggling to find his strength again. He had yet to falter as much as the others, but as he examined the man's eyes, he could see the struggle within. He was sapped of strength, but he was still trying to force himself up as his black board shorts clung to the wet sand. The lancer's forceful form of motivation had its influence. On shaking arms, he finally did it as Leonidas gazed firmly at his blue eyes.
Gudao stared back with heavy breaths and cursed himself. His eyes were steeled, and Leonidas gathered just a little more respect for him. "Sorry!"
"You rose, master. There is nothing to be sorry for rising again, only for falling and refusing to stand… Now! The final five! One-Two-Three!"
To see the male master here was a surprise. He knew Gabrielle constantly trained with Scathach and the other Irish, but Gudao mostly kept his physical conditioning to himself. This was the first time he's seen him doing something far more serious than simply lifting weights repetitively or running the track. There was nothing wrong with either, but it didn't test waters a training regime from a warrior could. To know the master was now looking to better himself openly was commendable, and it clearly wasn't just for show.
He had kept up for the uncounted amount of time since they started. Without cheating and using magecraft reinforcement of some sort, he kept pace with the others. Where they had fallen more often, he would endure for longer. There was nothing to be ashamed of, yet he could see the disappointment in his eyes after finally faltering. It was the same disappointment in Gabrielle's eyes as she struggled to pick herself up to avoid Delaqua's final strike.
Whether this self-critical view was something he picked up from admiring Gabrielle all his childhood or not, he didn't know. It was nothing to be upset about.
What he did know was that Gudao would always be hard on himself for failing something, but he would remain in control of himself. Through their toughest times in the singularities, he was a reliable, stable anchor. He was always trying to prove himself to them, and he always managed to send the message perfectly. While not as physically capable as his best friend, he was still placing considerable effort into something that, from Leonidas' view, he could have faltered doing several times more. It was both inspiring and encouraging.
"Thirty!" "All stand!"
The master stood with the rest of the volunteered group. Leonidas, not winded at all, casually turned to them to examine their states. While the disappointment still gleamed in Gudao's eyes, the determination still burned through every fiber of his body, and he could sense that well. Several others looked determined, but their bodies were clearly not ready for more punishment. The rest looked nearly defeated, both in body and mind, as they breathed heavily in hopes of another small break; Their last one was ten exercise sets ago.
"Take a breather!" He commanded in a calmer voice, though still powerful. The relieved sighs made him chuckle as he walked past Gudao while patting him on the shoulder. While the master made him proud, there was another interest that trumped his wish to commend him properly.
Leonidas walked the two dozen meters towards the three newly arrived spectators. Anne and Mary had matching black bikinis with a pirate skull pattern across the top. The bottoms were covered by red towels, and the taller pirate had a food container gripped in one hand. He was far more interested in the paper bag Delaqua held as she stood beside them. Her work boots and socks were in her other hand, as she waited casually with an amused smile. He finished his quick approach to the uniform clad employee, only for her to raise the bag towards him.
"Hungry, Leo?" she asked as Mary and Anne giggled beside her. It wasn't at the mundane question, rather the confused look on his face. "I brought you your favorite, special-order breakfast… Steak with light barbecue sauce."
"I appreciate the thoughtful treat, Val, but I thought we were going to meet for breakfast?"
"As did I," she smirked with a small chuckle, making the pirate girls laugh.
"It's fifteen minutes into breakfast. You're over your workout schedule, Spartan," Anne decided to happily point out.
Leonidas blinked as Delaqua chuckled again. Though the two pirates didn't know, she could tell when the Spartan King was in a state of embarrassed anger, and he was definitely more than a little flustered even if his stoic demeanor remained firm. After grumbling about the look in her eye that teased, in a friendly way, that he was getting too wrapped up in his workouts, the lancer turned back to the group. They were all very winded and had been working for far longer than he wanted them to.
He had clearly failed to keep proper time. Has it really already been two hours of working them to their limits? To be fair, the grueling Spartan workouts usually lasted longer, so it was likely habit that pushed it further. He silently vowed not to make the same mistake again, but at least his assembled crew had proved themselves on day one.
"I… shit. I need to apologize to them after congratulating their excellent effort! Then I need to-"
"Calm down, Leo," Delaqua sighed as the pirate girls laughed. "I don't think they'll be too upset. Just call it the hardest day?"
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Clang!
Leonidas deflected the golden blade of his opponent's spear before thrusting his own bronzed weapon at him. With what was best described as lazy grace, Hector slowly leaned back to dodge the thrust, letting it glance over his green cloth and tickle his flapping black cape. His relaxed expression remained as he quickly shortened Durindana's hilt to a sword length. With a casual, yet strong, swat, he batted away the spear and lengthened the handle once more. He made three quick thrusts-
Metal grinding shrilled through the air as it grazed off the Spartan's iconic shield. With practiced grace, his bare muscles flexed as he jumped backward. The red plume of his helm waved in the snowy winds of the Training Grounds as he skid across the snow. Hector refused to follow the fellow defensive lancer, but Leonidas did not intend to stand idle. Gritting his teeth under his bronze helm, he pounced, rocketing through the air like a comet before smashing his shield against the Trojan defender's guard.
Hector grunted, and nearly broke his calm expression, as he used Durindana's length to break the attack, surprising Leonidas. The irony of a spear stopping a shield's attack was shattered as Hector stepped to the side, twirling Durindana rapidly before slicing it through the Spartan's red cape towards his bare-
It was stopped instantly by a quick slash with a spear. Hector leaped rearward to dodge the king's fast thrusts which rended the air he stood only a second ago. With a satisfied grunt, Leonidas tensed his leg muscles to follow-
"Wait!" Hector called out loudly but calmly. Leonidas stared inquisitively through the slit of his helm as Hector kept one hand raised. Cupping his spear in the crook of his arm, he fished in his pocket and pulled out… a pack of cigarettes. "…smoke break? That was quite the shield bash."
"Again!?" Leonidas yelled angrily, though Hector merely grinned and chuckled. The Spartan lancer groaned, but would relent anyway. When the Hero of Troy decided to take a smoke break during their spars, he would not change his mind. There was no point attacking a target that would just stand there.
"I haven't gotten around to having enough today… Oh, lovely. That caster sure knows how to pick his packs," Hector muttered happily as he exhaled.
Leonidas could only glare at him and keep his anger checked. Exercise and sparring were supposed to let him vent it, but instead it was steadily building. With a growl, he shook his head as his fists gripped the weapons harder. "What were you possibly doing that you couldn't find a smoke break?"
His grin only grew wider. "Oh. You see… I was taking a nap in my room and set the alarm, but I decided I wanted to sleep more... Four hour naps are refreshing!"
The Spartan King gawked disbelievingly as Hector chuckled, clearly pleased with himself and not hiding it. "…Sometimes I wonder if the old man act is just an act."
"Oh geez you… I'm not that old, am I? There's a bunch here older than me…" Hector trailed off to himself as he started counting on one hand.
He stopped at four and scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile.
Leonidas growled and planted his spear into the ground to wait while his friend took a quick puff with a content smile. Of his few friends, Hector was the most recent, and by far the most irritating. He had plenty of respect for the hero prior to his arrival. The man was a fellow Greek, a great leader, perceptive strategist, and a valiant defender of his homeland much like him. Being fellow lancers who did not yield on the defensive also helped, though his admiration faded slightly when he learned of his rather unique outlook.
There was no doubt Hector liked playing a fool to lull enemies into a false sense of security, because he did take fights seriously; He just never showed it. The true issue was he was rather casual and lazy about nearly everything else. No fault could be placed on someone for having such a laid-back attitude, but he would appreciate it if he was a little more accommodating about having a smoke break in the middle of a spar, let alone three. If only he was as serious in Chaldea as he was in singularities.
They've been on two together, and he had shown his true colors as a driven, serious defender. Together they were quite the bulwark.
Perhaps it was just a wakeup call for the Spartan. Delaqua did often state, after she worked up the courage, that he was often far too serious. Was the muscle head embodiment getting to him again? He sighed to himself, hoping that wasn't the case. Hector scratched his head in response. "Sorry…"
At least he took the time out of his lazy day to spar with him. "… Just take your time."
The lancer grinned at him and flashed a thumbs up. Leonidas rolled his eyes under his helmet. He'd have to vent on a chair leg or two instead.
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
Chaldeas hummed softly in the center of the Deployment Room, with only a handful of other noises echoing within the large space. There was some shifting of battle attire and quiet conversation to break the tension, but nothing too casual for the atmosphere. Leonidas glanced around from his seated position on one of the pads, noting the others who remained on standby. Several servants and Gudao could only wait patiently, and in silent concern, as Roman monitored the situation with Gabrielle's team.
What was supposed to be a benign, minor singularity had turned malignant in a heartbeat, but the female master had it under control… so far.
Leonidas eyed his master's calm demeanor. While he was likely worried, malignant singularities weren't likely to be as dangerous as a primary; The incident with Ibaraki had been a terrible exception. It was rare for a singularity to upgrade in threat level while deployed though, but the man's mostly calm demeanor displayed his confidence in the servants and fellow master. At worst, they would be deployed to stop a rapidly escalating situation. At best, they would have just wasted their time standing around waiting.
Waiting was always what got people thinking, and that usually led down the wrong path towards mounting anxiety or frustrations. Distractions and mundane activities helped to prevent this issue, which was why Spartans always psyched themselves for battle by doing such practices. Grooming each other's hair or helping to clean equipment were his favorite past times in keeping his nerves steeled yet ready, while keeping his excitement at a minimum level. There were no other Spartans to groom here, and his weapons were beyond clean, so he was committed to his most recent acquisition.
Curiously watching, Ushiwakamaru looked quietly at the notepad the sitting lancer held. "Third one already?"
"I ran out of easy Sudoku puzzles the other day. I must obtain more," Leonidas answered calmly as he filled in a box with the number six. He erased another.
"I don't get how you can keep completing those. They look repetitive," the rider noted, but Leonidas shrugged lightly.
"As I do not understand how trimming a small tree can bring inner peace."
She simply continued to watch as he completed the grid. It was hardly a mathematically involved puzzle, but it was far easier than the most recent ones Delaqua had been introducing to him. Learning the algorithms was difficult for the lancer, but they were necessary stepping stones. Never before would he have thought a square would cause him such sheer rage, since his favorite formations involved the shape. Alas, the Rubik's Cube was simply a demonic entity he would relate to the Gordian knot.
At least Sudoku puzzles served as his fourth form of anger management.
"I never would have thought you to be such an intellectual," Ushiwakamaru admitted. It made the lancer stop and eye her carefully. She bowed slightly. "Sorry... I did not mean that in an offense."
He sighed and placed the notepad next to his helm to crack his back. "I don't believe many would. I just find tasks like Sudoku interesting."
The rider paused briefly as he picked up the small notepad again. "Can you teach me sometime?"
Leonidas looked up curiously. He wasn't much of a teacher, rather a learner. He and Ushiwakamaru also haven't talked very much; Their conversation now was usually the extent of their interactions. Still, he found himself curious. "It's simple. I could explain it now if you prefer."
"We have nothing better to do," she chuckled before stepping off of her pad. She sat across from the lancer as he consolidated his thoughts. As he pulled out a brand-new puzzle to explain, the intercom blared to life.
"Sorry for the wait, everyone. Gabby has the situation under full control and is commencing cleanup. No serious casualties,"Roman's voice echoed into the large room. Gudao let out a relieved sigh as the three pirate girls in front of the sitting pair complained on their pads. "Thank you for coming in case of an emergency."
"I was looking forward to more treasure too!" Drake complained as she threw both arms around Mary and Anne. The smaller and taller pirates chuckled as the British legend slowly moved them towards the exit. "Shit… Let's see if Blackbeard is still playing that warship game. I'm in the mood for some sailing."
"As long as he's not sneaking into our room again," Mary grumbled, making Anne roll her eyes as they kept walking. Leonidas could never understand how they could be so unbelievably lenient towards the pirate for his raids. Then again, they did tend to get violent when they caught him in the act.
"Let us take this elsewhere?" Leonidas offered.
"If you do not mind. I am still curious about Sudoku."
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
With a light rustle of his jeans, Leonidas came to a halt in the middle of the hallway.
Plenty of things made the Spartan King angry, he would begrudgingly admit. Consistent incompetence in battle was nearly unforgiveable. Too much lettuce on his meat salad even more so. The list numbered high, and it angered him that so many little things could still upset him, which was also an embarrassing admission. For a king who liked to believe he was a few steps above his fellow Spartans, but not in a demeaning way, it was a sad realization he was roughly the same.
As a politician when dealing with other city states, this included owing anyone a favor. It was a token that could be bargained for leverage when necessary, and he preferred Sparta be the one owed. It didn't always turn out that way, and the same held true in the halls of Chaldea. Individuals were better suited for various situations, and could be the absolute worst when dealing with certain others. As much as he prided his own diplomatic ability, there was no dealing with certain servants.
Cursing his weakness in the situation, the lancer held the box of candles against his black muscle shirt as his leg muscles tensed beneath his jeans. There were no hiding spots in the long, straight hallway save for the crossing ahead. Going into spirit form would be problematic with the items in hand, but Boudica was solving his dilemma at the intersection, as she usually did. The smiling rider, after making a curtsy in her white sundress, pointed down another hallway for the large, leather-strapped berserker before her. "I believe Heracles headed back to your room."
"Oh! Thank you, Boudica! It's difficult getting the staff to answer a question without them getting nervous," Spartacus laughed back, all while keeping the eerie smile on his face. How was the rider so used to it? "You must come to dine with us tomorrow! The children will be there too."
"Oh? Then how could I refuse?" she promised with a bright smile and a giggle. "I hope you have a good night, Spartacus."
"Yes! And to you too, Queen Boudica," Spartacus nodded before his thudding footsteps began walking down the hallway. A robot carrying supplies had to hover out of the large berserker's way, but he paid it no attention as Boudica turned to Leonidas.
She waited until Spartacus disappeared from sight before nodding his way. Leonidas quickly approached with a flat expression. "I appreciate it."
"The things I do for you, Vlad, and the Romans," she teased with a small smile. He scowled and she bowed lightly. "Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood."
"You succeeded before then. I don't have a tall berserker roaring at me for having a city state full of slaves… which I no longer do."
"As the Romans are no longer oppressing others," Boudica added with a relieved smile. Of course she would be the most pleased with that fact. "Spartacus is difficult, but he's manageable and a good friend to have. It's just too bad the mad enhancement potion will likely do nothing for him."
"It would have been convenient, but that's how it is," Leonidas shrugged with the box in his hands. He frowned with irritation. "It seems I owe you even further, Boudica."
"And as I said before, Leonidas, think nothing of it. I just love being helpful where I can," she answered with a reassuring smile. "There's no need to get upset over something measly like this. I'm just serving to keep the peace, and the paperwork away from Okita."
He shook his head. "I do not wish to look ungrateful or owing in any form. I will repay my debt, or it will be unfair to you."
"If you're going to be difficult…" she teased with a small smile, and put a finger to her lip in thought. She soon beamed and looked to him in hopeful curiosity. "I've been on the fence about a wooden display case. Would I be asking for too much of you?"
His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, though his anger for owing a favor remained. The lancer did not know what he should have been expecting in the first place, but the request was certainly doable for him. He enjoyed his new hobby, so he could hardly consider it a task for compensation. With a content nod, he settled on the terms, and was thankful Boudica was not one of the more demanding servants.
"That is agreeable. As soon as I finish with a small project for George, I will begin work."
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IX ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
He was alone in the Plant, as was the usual case. Though most requests were completed by the staff, he had been pitching in as his show of gratitude for allowing him to use the machines for leisure and anger management. It was a no-lose situation for him, since he got extra practice in creating furniture through his calculations. Over time, he had become as skilled as many were in wood craft, though there was much to be desired with his metal working. He was still learning the tendencies of different metals.
The table saw sliced into the piece of lumber to properly shape it. Shavings and saw dust sprayed into the air, but his eyes remained focused behind the safety glasses. The cut was clean without any aberrations, and he turned the machine off temporarily to wipe the debris off his black muscle shirt. While most needed to wear something more protective, servants didn't have that issue, so he often made his workmates envious with considerably less clothing; The room tended to heat up rapidly with use.
He pulled a tape measure out of a pocket on his jeans before he swiftly retook measurements. A marker in his other hand notched an endpoint to slice. He continued down its length for spur-of-the-moment ideas on how to decorate the wooden candle stand on the lathe. It was an unusual request by George, but there was likely a reason he wished for one in his room. He didn't want it to match the ones in the chapel, though he gave him freedom to design otherwise.
With any luck, he would have this order for him by tomorrow as a surprise. "Up late again, are we?"
"Same goes to you," Leonidas chuckled as he glanced over at Delaqua. She had opened the front door just enough to get through before closing it. The clock above it read eleven at night, though the supervisor looked awake without a hint of fatigue. "Couldn't sleep?"
"The coffee I made this afternoon was too strong," she shook her head as she picked up the order checklist on the front desk. "I may as well spend my time productively… Maybe start a simple order or two to tire me out."
"If you're too tired in the morning-"
"I'll let Charles handle it, I know," she smirked back at him with a shake of her head. "Thanks for the concern, as always."
A comfortable silence fell over the room as she walked towards the warehouse. Leonidas watched her disappear before turning back to his own work. His hand was on the table saw, but he didn't turn it on. In the brief moment of silence, his mind had allowed the anger to manifest once more. With a sigh, he took a step back to simply stare at the wood. It was an easy project, but it was going to take all night at this rate. Footsteps slowly approached, along with the clanking of wood planks.
"Alright, Leo. What's got you so angry you can't even start the saw to manage it?"
He turned as the wooden planks in her hand fell to the ground casually. She began prepping another table saw nearby, but still kept attentive glances towards him. He only shrugged, knowing there was no hiding anything from her now that they've become this close. She waited patiently, as she always did when he was rarely troubled in the room. The supervisor was a great listener to his occasional rants, and far better at giving advice compared to one of the inanimate machines.
"I seem to owe Boudica far more often than I would like to admit. I hate favors."
She blinked in surprise. "She saved you from another run-in with Spartacus?"
"What else?" He asked with a little more attitude than he should have.
He sighed and was about to apologize, but she cut him off… as usual. "Don't worry about it. Feel free to rant."
"I should be able to deal with Spartacus myself, yet I can't. He only listens to a few, like Boudica," he admitted without regret or shame. It was a regular process for both of them. "I'm furious at my own weakness and helplessness when dealing with the berserker. All I can do is avoid him and prevent an incident from occurring. It is infuriating I cannot face this in a more direct manner."
"I do believe this is the first time you're criticizing yourself for not being as much of a hot-blooded idiot as your fellow Spartans," she admitted, making him look at her incredulously. She smiled lightly to show she meant nothing offensive. "I mean it, Leo. Usually it's the opposite, but you're complaining about being stranded on an island. The great King of Sparta who held off the Persians helpless? I admire you for holding back your urge to do something."
"The last time angered more than just myself," Leonidas admitted. He had let his anger get ahold of himself months ago, and their quarrel nearly turned into a fight in the middle of the gymnasium. Since then he's been avoiding him on request of the masters. "I am a warrior. Fighting is in my blood, yet I cannot use it here to solve this problem."
Leonidas noted the lightbulb over her head as the supervisor's eyes widened. "…Maybe you can."
"I'm a peacekeeper, Val. That is against my station, honor, and pride," he admitted with a scoff.
She actually placed her hand against her face. What was she getting at? "Look, Leo... I have an idea you might find suitable for both of you."
¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ X ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨
"How many Romans does it take to build an aqueduct? None, because they make the slaves do it!" Spartacus chuckled to himself as Boudica groaned into both of her hands. His jokes were usually the same, and often pretty terrible attempts at best.
"You need new gags, Spartacus," she admitted, though he only laughed louder at her dismay. The chain wearing servant walked with the battle clad rider towards the Deployment Room, ready for the supply sortie scheduled for the early morning. There were no problematic servants that would cause a quarrel on the roster, so Boudica was fairly hopeful there would be no headaches to help Gudao overcome.
Her hopes crashed to a halt as fast as Spartacus stopped, as his smile faded ever so slightly. His eyes locked on to Leonidas as he casually approached them wearing only red gym shorts and a matching spandex shirt. The muscular lancer noted Boudica's completely stupefied look, and the mounting tension emanating from Spartacus as he advanced upon the Spartan. As instructed by Delaqua, he remained calm and stopped as the berserker met him in the hallway.
"Spartan King! Have you approached me to boast of your slave society?"
"I've never done anything of the sort, Spartacus. I only come to you with a request."
Spartacus' eyes narrowed as his fists clenched. "I do not take requests from oppressors!"
"So you do not wish to spar to take out some anger against an oppressor?"
To Boudica's elevated surprise, though she was shocked to begin with upon hearing the revelation, Spartacus fell silent. Completely silent. Leonidas remained calm, but he wordlessly congratulated himself as the berserker raised a hand to scratch his chin. "Spar…? Against the Spartan Oppressor?"
"That is correct. Would you like to duel at the training grounds later? I'm in need of a sparring opponent, and you wish to take anger out on former oppressors."
He hummed in presumed thought. "I see... many would be mad at me again if we fought inside. It's too cramped for my liking anyway..."
Delaqua's idea was simple, straightforward, and incredibly daring. Openly inviting Spartacus to a spar meant it was likely to turn into a real fight, but that's the kind of training Leonidas cherished; Sparring usually let him vent anger, but the recent ones only built it. His past few clashes with Hector left much to be desired, and Cu was too busy with other activities involving his fellow Irishmen.
There was also the other, less likely benefit. As Delaqua and Leonidas both knew well, there was no better way to learn and earn respect for your opponent than by fighting them. This was personally proven to her by the new bond formed between the supervisor and Gabrielle. It was a complete gamble because Spartacus was unpredictable and uncontrollable, but the chance still existed.
Perhaps… just maybe, Spartacus' mad enhancement and perspective could be circumvented that way. "Do you find this to be acceptable terms, Spartacus?
The berserker's grin widened. "I will meet you there when I return! I shall claim victory over an oppressor! Prepare yourself, Leonidas!"
He remained calm and respectful, but smiled. "I look forward to it too. Thank you for your time, Spartacus, and good luck to both of you this morning."
Spartacus walked past the lancer with newfound enthusiasm, mumbling to himself about the exciting fight ahead as Boudica approached him with wide eyes. "You asked him to fight you!? Are you out of your mind, Leonidas!?"
"Isn't it the only way two hot-blooded idiots can find common ground?" he dared to admit. Though it frustrated him that's what it all boiled down to, he couldn't argue that was why it had a higher chance of success. Anger could be released through sparring and fights, but even more so if the target was the source of a frustration. With his only source of venting his frustrations seemingly locked to fighting wildly in singularities, perhaps the berserker just needed another form of anger management.
Boudica sighed and covered her face in her hands. "I hope you know what you're doing..."
Leonidas only nodded with a tiny smirk. "It's a calculated risk… but you understand how I love playing with math."