The next week passed in much the same fashion as the first day. After a thirty-minute lecture on experience from Captain Collins, they would practice spear work with Corporal Tamus. Each day focused on a different basic technique, such as blocking with the haft, stepping into a thrust, and swinging the butt around for a horizontal strike. Afternoons were mostly a waste of time, in which the rotund buffoon would tell wild tales of fabricated adventures with little point, and would end with a bland statement such as "Just stab it." Reed spent every evening in the dojo sparring with his teacher, making sure that despite his dull curriculum he was keeping his fighting skills in top condition.

Recruits trained Monday through Saturday, and were given Sunday off to rest and take care of personal matters. Reed dedicated his day off to going to all the weapons and dust shops around Adigiar, trying to find the best deal he could on a staff. The results were disheartening.

Every shop had their own variation on a combat viable staff that allowed the employment of dust, and all were way out of his price range. Disheartened, Reed went to bed early that night, gloomily wondering how hard it would be to break into the Town Guard armory, and whether there would even be anything worth stealing there.

He supposed he could try and talk one of the forge apprentices into working with him, but that had its own set of complications. He had seen them eating lunch in the cafeteria, and as a group they were about as impressive as his fellow recruits. They complained constantly, most had been forced into it by parents, and obviously had little to no experience.

The blue-haired girl from his first day was always conspicuously absent from the cafeteria.

Monday morning, Reed received a pleasant surprise. The recruits filed into the training yard to find that the training dummies had been replaced with a line of targets, each made of concentric rings with a red bullseye in the middle. Gun-spears were lined in racks to the side, looking old and feeble, but at least free of rust.

"Today we start your real combat training," Corporal Tamus boomed, ground shaking under him as he strolled in front of the recruits. "Rather than training you in a rifle first, which has a stock and lets you look down the sights, we are moving straight to gun-spears. You must learn how to fire from your stances with good accuracy, and therefore rifle training would be of little practical purpose. Line up behind the line, but for The Hermit's sake do not point your spear at anyone else, just the targets."

Reed grabbed one of the weapons from the rack and inspected it. The tip was a simple, triangular point, semi-sharp along the edge, and missing a section from the middle where the gun barrel was inset into the top of the shaft. A long clip of single file bullets was slid into the butt of the weapon, unwieldy but manageable. The firing mechanism proved to be two buttons, one a third of the way down staff, another a similar distance from the end. This ensured that the weapon was unlikely to discharge unexpectedly, but also meant that it could only be fired from basic stances. Proof this was a weapon for unskilled infantry.

For the first time since joining the Town Guard, Reed was challenged by the day's exercise. He had fired rifles before, but like Tamus had said hip-firing from the tip of a melee weapon was completely different. The recoil threw the tip of the weapon up, making most of his shots hit in the outermost of the five rings of the target.

Using his semblance, Reed focused on feeling the spear buck in his hand and redirecting the recoil of the spear back instead of up, absorbing the shock with his whole body. By the end of the day he was pleased to see he was consistently hitting the bullseye or the ring around it.

Looking down the line, he saw varying degrees of success from the others. The large leader of the delinquents seemed to be having the best luck, other than himself. Her upper body and arms rocked with every shot, a less efficient distribution of recoil than Reed's own, but serving the same effect of keeping the tip from rising with every shot. Her bullets struck mostly the third and second ring of the target, one or two per clip landing in the center.

The other delinquents were having far less luck. The two scrawny boys appeared to be firing at random, some hitting their target, but most hitting the ground in front or the wall behind. The emaciated girl simply could not handle the recoil, every shot flying high, and the baby-faced giant was having trouble hitting the firing buttons at the same time.

After several days of target practice, they moved on to the more practical application of using the gun to add impact to close range thrusts. The practice dummies were brought back, and the recruits practiced stabbing into them with the point of the spear, then firing the gun to blow a hole through the burlap sacks. Reed quickly discovered that this was an excellent way to disengage and prepare another strike. The recoil served to rip the spearhead free of the target, returning the wielder to a starting position and doing damage at the same time.

Reed began to think about how he would use this utility in a staff. Tamus called the end of drills and the other recruits headed to the locker room. Reed held back, pretending to tie his shoe.

Starting with a simple figure eight spin he built the momentum of the spear and gave the dummy an experimental jab with the flat end of the spear. The dummy rocked back and forth under the blow, eventually swaying to a stop. Reed repeated the process and fired the gun just before hitting the dummy.

The amount of extra force behind the blow startled Reed. When the spear wasn't stationary, the power of the gun firing served to give it quite a bit of extra momentum, knocking the dummy's head clear off and into the far wall.

A low whistle behind him startled Reed, and he spun around, looking for its source. There appeared to be no one behind him, but a spot of bright blue in his peripheral vision drew his gaze upwards. The apprentice forger who had coined the term 'Captain Dumbass' was leaning out of a window high above the entrance to the locker room. She eyed him appraisingly, a small smirk on her mouth.

"I could tell you were better than the others," she said, "but damn, I figured you were just the shiniest of turds, pervert. Looks like you have some moderate amount of skill after all."

Reed sighed. Of course it had to be her.

"You really have no basis to call me that. Your outfit drew the eye, who wears that much leather? You run a cow farm or something?"

Her smirk spread into a lopsided smile. "Fiesty fucker, aintcha? Although you're hardly one to talk. I've seen you walk out of the building in your street clothes. Blue jeans and a cotton tee every day? You have no damn style whatsoever."

With that, she slid the window shut, cutting off the retort already on Reed's lips. He settled for throwing the spear forcefully onto the rack and stomping to the locker room.

Reed suffered through the rest of the day, his opinion of Captain Collins further diminishing when, attempting to make a joke, the rotund officer had said, "To hurt a Grimm, just tap it like your girlfriend." Reed highly doubted the man had every even had a girlfriend with that attitude.

When they were finally allowed to leave Reed left the Town Guard Headquarters, planning on following his normal after work routine of Komodo Curry and sparring practice. He was stopped short, however, when he turned down the ally and saw a colorful figure leaning against one wall.

The blue-haired girl looked up at the sound of his foot-steps. Reed recovered quickly from his surprise and met her gaze. "You call me a pervert, then corner me down an alley? Talk about a double standard."

She rolled her eyes at that, and said, "You are really fucking predictable, you know that? Every day you take a right immediately after leaving headquarters, and then another down this damn alley. Before today I had almost no interest in you, and I still noticed that much."

Reed raised an eyebrow at that, and replied, "So you were waiting for me."

The girl snorted. "Well at least you're not stupid." She straightened, putting her hands on her hips and stepping to block his path down the alleyway. "I have a business proposition for you. My fellow forge apprentices couldn't tell the sharp end of a gun spear if it was shoved up their ass. From your lethargic stabbings of the dummies during your drills, I would imagine you have a similar opinion of your fellow recruits. I grew up in a forge, frankly this type of menial labor is beneath me."

"If you grew up in a forge, why on earth would you apprentice at the town guard?"

"That's none of your damn business."

Reed just shrugged, having expected a harsh rebuke of some sort. She really wasn't an easy person to talk to.

"What I am proposing," she continued, "Is working with you to make a custom weapon. Something actually capable of taking down the creatures of Grimm, without relying on a line of stupid bastards stabbing in unison."

Reed froze at that, narrowing his eyes to regard her. Working with a forge apprentice would be faster than saving up for a staff, but she didn't seem the altruistic type.

"Why would you do that for me? I can't afford to pay you. Furthermore, why should I trust a stranger I've just met to construct a tool I would stake my life on? I don't know for a fact that you grew up in a forge, for all I know you're just a cocky apprentice who thinks she will be the next hot-shot weapon designer."

The girl looked thoughtful at that, putting a finger to her chin and staring at the sky. "I never really considered that you would do anything other than grovel in front of me and praise my generosity," she said, "You have more personality and self-respect than I expected. Fine, I propose a trade. I show you something that proves I know what I am doing, and in return you show me something that proves I won't be wasting my time making a Hunter caliber weapon for some rookie who happened to land a lucky shot on a practice dummy."

She stuck out her hand, "Deal?"

Reed stared at the hand, conflicted. What she was proposing was more than he could have hoped for, but could he really trust her? If he didn't, though, it could be months before he got a chance to practice fighting Grimm.

"Fine," he said, "But you first. You approached me after all."

"Whatever," she said, spinning around and marching down the alley, combat boots thudding solidly on the pavement. "My old man's forge is just a short distance from here."

At the end of the alley she looked over her shoulder. "I'm Phaedra Blau, by the way."

"Reed Aoki."

Reed stared up at the sign above the building in slight surprise. It was simple, large block letters spelling out Edmund Blau's Forge. Edmund Blau was a local forger of some repute. His designs were simple, employing two dust slots max and only rarely incorporating a gun, but they were extremely well made. More traditional Hunters from around Remnant commissioned works from Edmund Blau, those that preferred to fight with combat skills honed from years of experience rather than relying on dust and ammunition, which could be exhausted on longer expeditions.

Phaedra smirked at him. "I see my claim is already starting to solidify in your mind. Still, no reason to assume I'm as good a forger as my old man. I'm actually much better. Come on in."

The room just past the front door was small and rectangular. A long counter stood out from the far wall, with two old cash registers set on it and racks of weapons behind it. The shop itself was quaint, Edmund Blau sold most of his weapons from other shops, and those that visited his were usually interested in custom orders.

Phaedra led him through a door to the side of the counter. Upon reaching it, Reed was hit with a blast of heat. On the other side was a much larger room containing all the necessities of making weapons. Three large coke pits took up the center of the room. Each one had a small and large anvil next to it, a water bucket for cooling metal, and a rack of tools. One entire wall was dedicated to materials, metal bars stacked in neat piles by type. The opposite wall had a couple of small boxes of ammunition and a bookshelf lined with dust crystals.

"Yo, I'm back," Phaedra said as she strolled through the door. "I brought someone from the Town Guard with me. Only one I could find with even a fucking ounce of potential."

Her 'old man' looked up from his place at one of the forges and gave Reed a welcoming smile. He was a short man, but massively proportioned, with tight bands of muscle from years of swinging heavy hammers. He was old, wrinkles and wispy white hair putting him around at least sixty-five or seventy. He left his work in the forge to heat as he approached Reed.

"Nice to meet you, young man. You must be something, my daughter rarely takes an interest in those she thinks aren't worth her time." He stuck out his hand, and Reed shook it, trying to suppress his excitement.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. My name's Reed Aoki, I'm a recruit in the Town Guard. It's an honor to see your shop in person, I've admired your work for years."

He laughed at that and said, "Please, call me Edmund. I'm honored that you find my work that commendable, most people think my pieces lack style."

Reed shook his head. "I trained with the staff for years, I understand that simple doesn't necessarily mean inadequate. I've been admiring one of your staffs in a local shop for a while now. When I held it the balance was perfect, and despite being made of metal it was as light as a wood staff." Reed turned slightly away in embarrassment before continuing, "I've actually been saving up to purchase it."

Edmund grinned at that and slapped Reed on the shoulder. "Well, that's easy enough! I've got an entire rack of them in the front of the shop, feel free to grab one on your way out."

"Sir! I mean, Edmund, I appreciate your generosity but I could never accept. A craftsman should be paid for his work, and I will have enough to purchase my own in a few more months."

"Nonsense," said Edmund, waving his hand at Reed's refusal. "Use the money to get yourself a nice dust crystal. I've got more of those staffs than I know what to do with. Besides, if my daughter has decided that you are worth her time, I'm sure-"

"I said no such thing," Phaedra said hotly from the side. "I'm still not sure he is anything more than the only recruit who can tell his ass from his head."

Edmund continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I'm sure you will find that her own forging vastly exceeds my own. Now, if you will excuse me, that metal looks just about ready."

Nodding to Reed, he returned to the forge, taking the red hot metal from the coals and transferring it to an anvil, where he began shaping it with strong blows from a large hammer.

Reed returned his attention to Phaedra, who had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot impatiently. "You done hero-worshiping my old man? Good, let's go out back. We have a small training yard there for testing new weapons."

Through another door set in the back wall he stepped out into what looked like a miniature replica of the training field at the Town Guard Headquarters. It was about thirty feet by thirty feet, open at the top, with tall, scarred stone walls to keep any ammunition or dust from hitting any of the other buildings nearby. Phaedra walked to a long, narrow hut set against one of the walls and threw double doors wide to reveal a line of unique weapons.

"You said your preferred weapon is the staff," she mused, scanning the rack. She selected one weapon, and brought it over to Reed. It had a curving blade, about two feet long, extending straight out of a four-foot pole.

"This is of a rather simple design," she said, handing it to him, "But I would like to confirm that you aren't gonna cut your dick off before trusting you with anything too dangerous. Be careful of this switch," She pointed to a rectangular patch of wood a slightly different color than the rest. "It releases the blade on a chain hidden in the shaft. Push it forward to release the blade, and backwards to retract it. Let me set up some targets for you."

As Reed familiarized himself with the balance of the weapon Phaedra pulled some practice dummies from the corner into the center of the yard, setting them up in a ring fifteen feet wide. Reed was impressed. The staff was perfectly balanced, resting horizontal in his palm when it was gripped in the center. He pointed the tip at the ground and flipped the switch experimentally. The blade fell with a clatter. No extra propulsion, if he wanted the blade to go anywhere he would have to supply the momentum.

Phaedra, having set up eight dummies in a circle, retreated to one corner behind some sandbags. Reed snorted at that. Obviously not all of the weapons tested here had worked perfectly if they had fortifications set up.

He did a couple of quick hops on the balls of his feet to loosen his muscles, then stepped into the ring of dummies.

Reed started by standing in the exact center and whirling the staff in a simple pattern. When he was in striking distance of the first dummy, Reed unleashed a quick flurry of blows. The end of the staff came around and smacked the side of the dummy, causing it to rock. The instant the staff rebounded, Reed spun with the momentum and struck three times in quick succession with the point of the spear, one blow to the groin, chest, and head, leaving gaping holes bleeding straw in the burlap sacks. Finally, he spun the weapon behind his back and brought it slashing down at a diagonal, cleaving the dummy, support rod and all, from shoulder to hip.

Reed grinned. This is what he had wanted from the town guard. To be trained in a real weapon, one capable of cleaving an opponent in two or dismembering limbs.

He spun a couple of steps, landing between the next two dummies in the circle. He bounced the side of the staff against the head of one. Not a real attack, but a way for him to build momentum as he transferred the rebound into a spinning slash through the other dummy's neck, decapitating it. Sliding the bladed end around and behind his back, he jabbed the second dummy with the butt of the staff twice, once to knock it back, the second to snap the support firmly placed in the ground.

Blood rising, Reed planted the blade of the staff into the ground, launching himself into the air. With a twist of his body, he pulled the blade free from the dirt and spun the weapon in an arc towards the sky. He landed in a low stance, one leg bent beneath him, the other straight forward, and swung the staff down in a powerful arc. It whistled through the air, splitting the dummy in half from head to foot.

Springing to a standing position, Reed spun the staff in tighter and faster circles, stepping back into the middle of the ring. He spun the spear at shoulder height, parallel to the ground, and flipped the switch. The blade flew out from the force of the built up momentum. As it approached the first dummy in line Reed pulled on the staff to make sure the blade didn't travel too far. It sliced easily through the midsection of the first dummy, and Reed continued to make slight adjustments as it passed through the remaining three in line.

Reed hit the switch again, causing the blade to retract, and spun it over his head to keep the returning blade from stabbing him on the way back. It clicked into place, and Reed settled into a resting position, with the staff behind his back and the blade pointed towards the ground. The four dummies' upper bodies crashed to the ground.

Reed turned at the sound of footsteps, as Phaedra walked over to examine his handiwork. "Not bad," she said grudgingly. "This support beam is wood from the Emerald Forest treated to be as hard as steal, and you either slashed through or broke every one. Your weapon control is impressive, but let's put it to the true test."

She walked back to the weapons shed and threw the doors wide. She chose four from the rack, leaving a giant iron club and what looked like an executioner's ax behind. She then strolled to the end of the training yard opposite Reed and stabbed them into the ground.

"Alright," she said, drawing what looked like a perfect replica of the weapon Reed was wielding from the ground. "If you can beat me with that piece of shit I built when I was five, I will consider working with you."

"Do you have any combat experience?" Reed asked, unsure about fighting the petite girl. "I'm sure you are strong from working in a forge, but it takes more than strength to fight."

"I practice with weapons everyday so that I know what it's like to wield them. If you're too pussy-shit to attack a girl, allow me."

She sprung forward in a jab, which Reed easily deflected over his head by hitting the blade with an upward sweep of his staff. However, a sinister click warned him that the danger was not past, as the haft of the weapon in her hands split into three separate segments connected by chains.

Phaedra sneered at him, twitching the bottom third of the chain. The blade turned back towards Reed in the air, rocketing towards his back when Phaedra pulled sharply. He turned with the blade, allowing his aura to take the brunt of the hit, and grunting as he was thrown to the ground.

Reed rolled to his feet, activating his semblance. The blow had depleted a decent chunk of his Aura, and he didn't know what else the weapon was capable of. He would have to be more careful, he had clearly underestimated her.

He saw the next attack start as nothing more than a twitch in her right shoulder. She flung the bladed third at him, blade traveling straight for a jab at his chest. Already moving, Reed stepped forward, batting the blade aside, and jabbed her hard in the gut with the blunt end of his weapon.

Phaedra may have had practiced with the weapons, but she was unaccustomed to fighting an actual opponent. Her breathe whooshed out from her and she dropped her weapon as she flew five feet through the air before landing hard on her back.

Struggling to her feet and panting, she reached out and grabbed the next weapon in line. It was a mace, with a handle approximately two feet long and a head the size of a soccer ball. Reed noticed that the head had a handle built into the back. Phaedra gripped one hand on the long wood handle and the other gripped the back of the head.

Grinning, Phaedra set herself into a low stance, mace held parallel to the ground at waist height, and pointed the head at Reed. Recognizing the danger, Reed leapt forward in a roll as a deafening bang sounded in the training yard. He felt a few pieces of buckshot deflect off his Aura, another bang sounding as he bounced to his feet.

He noticed a small cloud of dust where Phaedra had been. A shadow moving across the ground gave him just enough warning to lift his staff in a horizontal block as Phaedra dropped out of the sky, swinging at Reed's head.

Reed caught the mace just below the head on his staff and angled the side without the blade towards the ground. Phaedra passed within inches of him, a startled look in her eye, as the mace head smacked into the ground with a resounding thud.

Reed spun the bladed end of his staff around and down, just below the head of the mace, separating it from the handle. Then he put a foot on Phaedra's chest and with a firm push kick launched her back and away. She sprawled again on the ground by her weapons hut.

"I have no qualms about fighting a girl, particularly one as aggressive as you," Reed said, as Phaedra struggled to her feet. "And I admit you are creative, but you have no formal training. Are you sure you want to keep going?"

Her answer was a snarl as she reached out for the massive iron club she had left in the shed. The top of its head was flat and shaped like a hexagon, the head tapering down to a handle with a ring on the end. She struggled to lift it from its place on the rack. When it was free it clanged loudly to the ground. Straining every muscle in her body, she pointed the head of the mace away from Reed.

There was a massive bang as Phaedra flew towards him, propelled by the canon ball that had fired from the flat end of the mace. She dragged on the handle as she approached him, using her weight and the momentum of the mace to swing it in a horizontal blow at Reed's side.

Reed's semblance allowed him to jump into the air a hair's breadth above the massive hunk of metal. He placed one hand on the top of it as he vaulted over, delivering a sweeping kick into Phaedra's side. She crashed again into the ground next to her last two weapons as Reed landed in a crouch, the giant mace skidding across the length of the yard and fetching up against the far wall.

Phaedra snatched up the last two weapons, a pair of wickedly curving daggers with knuckled hilts. The second she fastened her hands on the hilts a metallic rattling sounded from the finger rings and metal flowed over her hand. When it had stopped both hands were fully gauntleted in shining black metal. She held the knife of her left hand in a backwards grip in front of her, the knife in her right next to her head pointed straight at Reed.

Reed noticed with some apprehension that each finger of the left hand's gauntlets were glowing a different color, a clear sign of dust infusion. Not only that, her stance indicated a level of familiarity with the daggers that she hadn't shown with the other weapons. These were clearly her best and most used works.

She charged Reed, who started twirling his staff in preparation for using it in earnest. As she entered his range he swung the blade at her, aiming to slash her from left shoulder to right hip. Her left hand brought the dagger to meet the blade, and Reed noticed the red-glowing index finger tighten on the hilt. As the blades collided, there was a flash of red light and Reed felt his weapon rebound from the Fire assisted block. There was a report of gun fire from the right hand dagger, and it flew forward in a stab assisted by the gun concealed in the hilt.

Reed barely managed to move his head out of the way, blade passing inches from his left ear. He spun the hilt of his weapon into the ground and pushed off, retreating with a backwards leap from the furious onslaught. Phaedra gave him no reprieve, gripping her green middle finger tighter on the left hand dagger, causing a gale to explode from the blade. She spun with the force of the winds, approaching Reed in a cyclone of movement.

Reed swung the staff and activated the switch, aiming to wrap the chain around the spinning figure. A flash of blue came from the point where the chain touched her cyclone, and the blade on the end of his chain fell to the ground encased in ice. Even with his semblance, Reed couldn't avoid the hilt of the dagger as it slammed into the side of his head. He was thrown hard into the wall, barely managing to keep a hold of his weapon as he felt his Aura strain to protect him from the brutal strike.

Phaedra leapt at him, both weapons pointed at his chest. If that attack landed, Reed knew his Aura would shatter, and the contest would be lost. He had to remove those weapons from her grip. The gauntlets made it so he couldn't simple knock the daggers out of her hand, but maybe he could pull them off like a pair of gloves.

His right hand grabbed the chain on the ground, coiling it in his grip. As she plummeted out of the air he flipped up on his right hand and pushed off the ground, her blades passing through the space where he had just been. He aligned the coiled chain so that the daggers passed through it before sticking into the wall.

Twisting in the air, he pulled the staff so that the chain trailed over his left shoulder. The chain tightened around Phaedra's wrists, and Reed braced his back against the wall. He pushed as hard as he could, with his feet against her chest. With a small cry, Phaedra's hands came free of the gloves and she skid across the yard on her back.

He dropped to the ground with a groan and leaned against the wall, panting. He had competed in tournaments across Vale with some of the most talented young martial artists in the country, but he had never been so exhausted by a fight. The sheer tenacity of Phaedra's attacks and the varied tactics employed had made him fight with every ounce of physical and mental prowess he possessed.

Phaedra sat up and got to her feet, approaching the figure of Reed on the ground. She stood over him with her hands on her hips, and glared. "Man, that was pathetic, I actually almost beat you. Still, I guess you are the best I have to work with."

A glint entered her eyes. "I'm gonna work you to the fucking bone."