Thors Officer School, ToCS1 Outside the Fairy Tale
A/N: A happy new year to you all! This one took far too long. I don't really have an excuse except binging Cold Steel 3 and being overwhelmed by the deluge of additional lore. And that's with me already being spoiled by the big plot points beforehand.
And while we are talking about lore - Cold Steel 3 established a canon unit for one metric kilogram, which is called curim. As such, nalim (which is the one I made up) will be substituted retrospectively and in the future. I still need a metric unit for gram though, so nalim will be that until canon contradicts me again.
Due to a certain fight scene in the chapter, I put up another author note at the end about eastern terms and martial arts concepts. For those who are interested, feel free to read it.
And a big thank you to all readers old and new and those who reviewed, followed and favorited the fic.
Apex85: Sorry for not answering your question about the Reinford - Krupp similarities. I got sidetracked researching the political system of the Holy Roman Empire - also something you brought to my attention - which will play a crucial role in the upcoming Field Study. I really appreciate your input and your historical viewpoint really helps in fleshing out even more Erebonian lore.
omegazero2718: A special thanks to you, because your comment about Black Angler Rean and Crow loving fish inspired a certain scene in this chapter.
Leonidas701: Thank you for pointing out that the summary wasn't very engaging. As the author, I often don't see the forest for the trees, but I hope the new one is at least a little better.
Chapter 7 – Thors Moments I
Jusis balled his fists.
Enemy troops were spilling in on his vulnerable flank and the terrain completely favored his opponents. Visibility was atrocious, the fog of war hanging atop the battlefield like a specter of death. While his instincts and pride screamed at him for even considering a tactical retreat, cold logic dictated this distasteful option to be the most rational one. The hilly landscape was a textbook example for artillery deployment, something his foe was fielding according to the scouting reports. And for each second he hesitated in his command, the noose around the army's neck was drawn tighter.
"I have an idea," Gaius muttered.
The Albarea heir arched an expectant eyebrow.
The Nord warrior pointed at a rocky outcrop, the weakest part of the natural barrier surrounding their cavalry division. "Let's retreat from there."
"You're aware this opening is far too narrow for our riders?"
Gaius gave him a guileless look. "Well, we could use our arts corps to widen it. They are mostly equipped with earth arts."
This was actually a pretty good idea. Except... "Do you think this simulator can properly execute terrain manipulation mid-battle?"
The brown skinned youth shrugged. "There's nothing to lose by trying. Escaping through where we came from will only see our division slaughtered."
Jusis fingers were already flitting across the keyboard, eager to input the new order. Seconds later amberl colored diamonds appeared on screen, a depiction of earth arts being cast.
"It worked!" He couldn't quite keep the enthusiasm out of his voice.
His XO smiled. "Let's retreat in good order."
"Not so fast. Knowing our opponents, they'll never anticipate the maneuver we just performed. And considering the location our cavalry is breaking out of, we have a chance to flip the entire situation around."
"You want to destroy the artillery encampments?"
Jusis allowed himself to grin nastily. "Why waste perfectly good weapons? There are also officers with artillery specialization among our troops."
The Nord warrior's eyes widened. "A very bold strategy." He smiled warmly. "Except, does the simulator offer such a function?"
"Nothing to lose by trying," he echoed his partner's words back.
The rest of the mock battle went completely in their favor. The enemy CO simply went along with the usual playbook, bombarding the encirclement while concentrating most of their defensive units at the only exit - that is until Jusis' troops created another one. Soon enough their high mobility troops reached the artillery only to find out that, yes, the simulator indeed allowed the commandeering of enemy weapons.
"This is going almost too smoothly," Gaius mused. "Are we going to target the rest of the enemy artillery?"
"Yes. Bombard them to oblivion. Commandeering more would stretch our troops too thin."
The next few minutes saw the systematic destruction of their enemy's heavy war-gear. It was only then that their opponents realized something was wrong, but it was already too late then. Moments later their team received an offer for surrender.
The light in the classroom switched on.
"A good showing cadets!" Major Neithardt boomed. "Worzel, Albarea, your performance was impressive, but don't let it go to your heads." He let his gaze wander among the whole of Class VII until they stopped at the enemy team consisting of Regnitz and Craig. "Let this be a lesson: a well thought-out plan, even favorable terrain conditions - all can be turned against you. A battlefield is a dynamic place where even small factors can make or break a strategy." He folded his arms. "Any suggestions on how Cadet Regnitz and Craig could've performed better?"
"With all due respect, Sir," the bespectacled loudmouth groused, "couldn't we have gotten a list of what this simulator actually allows? How should we know that it's possible to change the terrain with arts or that artillery could be captured and used against ourselves?"
Major Neithardt shook his head. "Exactly my point, Cadet Regnitz. You couldn't know. In fact, nobody here at Thors know the exact limits of this simulator yet, or what's impossible to do. Like many other war games, which we will successively introduce, we at Thors inject a portion of randomness and uncertainty into our simulations, lest we all become victim to the ludic fallacy."
"The ludic fallacy, instructor?" Emma queried.
The Imperial Officer began to pace. "The most common definition calls it the misuse of a game to model real-life situations. A typical case of mistaking the map for the territory. To make a long story short: learning military strategy on a metaphorical chessboard, where all rules are known and agreed upon by both sides, runs the risk of creating an illusion of competence and certainty. Especially inside the mind of those who excel at these kind of games."
Machias visibly flinched.
"In reality, warfare is quite unlike chess due to asymmetries in troop strength, intelligence as well as weapons and technology utilized. There's of course also the scenario of more than just two sides battling each other. As for how the defeated team could have done better, no, how each and every one of you could do better, the answer is to always prepare contingencies."
The school gong ushered the end of the lesson.
"And that's that." Major Neithardt went into parade rest, his gaze the likeness of a mighty spear thrust. "I suggest you all look up the chapters about orbal communication, jamming and encryption schemes. During the next war game, all team mates will be split up and given control over their own terminals and troops. Inter-team coordination will be paramount to success, especially because communication channels between friendlies can and should be sabotaged. Cadets, dismissed."
Jusis breathed out a sign of relief. His mind felt so sluggish that he couldn't even muster up enough energy to needle Regnitz about his victory. One week into the school year and he was mentally and physically exhausted. It was very different from Lokis. While also challenging, he had maintained a semblance of effortlessness during his two year attendance at the military academy.
But here at Thors, even his very best was barely enough.
The others were already leaving the computer science room, but Gaius was still waiting for him. Seems like he wanted to chat. "I already told you that I'm not here to make friends." The Albarea heir restated.
The Nord Warrior smiled his disarming smile. "You did. But as I told you last time, I don't think you really mean it."
Jusis rose from his seat and began to walk beside his classmate. A tacit gesture of acceptance. To be honest, beside Laura, whom he already knew and Schwarzer who intrigued him a little, Gaius Worzel was by far the most palatable member of Class VII. Given his foreigner status, it was almost certain he didn't belong to the gaggle of sycophants which he had to suffer on a daily basis back at Lokis. As a native Nord denizen, there was also his no doubt profound understanding of horses.
Not that he was willing to overly express his interest...yet.
The next course was another exclusive for Class VII, namely their first class on Combat-Link usage with Instructor Valestein. According to what Rufus told him about his own Thors attendance, Jusis expected far more lessons shared between different classes, given that Thors structured its education more like an university than a school. But so far it seemed as if the higher-ups were intent on keeping the so called 'red jackets' cooped together. They even had their own exclusive dorm located at an isolated corner at campus, though the building was slightly ramshackle.
Bah, no matter. It kept the riffraff at bay and while he didn't particularly like his classmates, almost none of them had done anything to make him dislike them either. There was that irritant Regnitz of course, but if anything he had to commend the guy on his straightforwardness. His unvarnished and at times even childish antipathy, while lacking in dignity, was at least honest.
"A mira for your thoughts?"
Jusis turned to the Nord denizen. "Just musing about our curriculum. This officer school seems intent on throwing one nasty surprise at us after the other."
"You mean the surprise exams?"
"That too. Thors is taking their motto of treating the world as a constant battlefield a little too serious."
Gaius shrugged. "To be honest, I don't see anything wrong with it. Life as a nomad is a constant series of unexpected trials and challenges. Nature doesn't keep a fixed schedule, though there's something of a rhythm."
"I guess that makes you uniquely fit for this place. But I can already picture certain members of our class despairing over unannounced exams that occur frequently in every subject. Most educational institutions drill the students to reach peak performance on a fixed exam date."
"Sounds artificial. The trappings of civilization?"
Jusis chuckled mirthlessly. "Too true." And the pinnacle of civilizational trappings? The life of a high noble.
Out of some unfathomable reason, their lesson with Instructor Valestein wasn't going to be conducted in the gymnasium but instead the auditorium. They entered the massive hall, its ground polished to a shine that could rival the Albarea mansion. Jusis looked at the ceiling and saw a gigantic fresco depicting Thors' founder Dreichels in all his splendor, flanked by his most trusted confidantes Saint Sandlot and Roland Vander, a drawing utilizing extreme contrasts of light and darkness.
It was chiascuro, Rokkoko style. As an Erebonian noble he had been taught to evaluate pieces of art and while he didn't notice the fresco during the entrance ceremony, his mind too preoccupied with the people around him, it was indeed a marvelous piece of work. Consequently, he felt a bad premonition setting in the pit of his stomach, looking at the irreverent grin adorning the face of Class VII's lead instructor. If anyone could spoil the dignity of a place like this, it would be her.
"Heelloo kids," the woman greeted them in her gratingly enthusiastic voice. "Nice of you all to come to our very first Combat Link lesson. Some of you no doubt know what's to come, because I got to put you through the wringer during preparatory lessons last week. The others who didn't need those lessons," and here she looked each of the nobles plus Alisa Reinford in the eye, "well, you are in for a little surprise: ballroom dancing!"
Jusis arched his eyebrows. He was no doubt proficient on the dance floor, a skill taught to every self-respecting noble before they hit the age of sixteen and it certainly made the auditorium the correct choice of location, but it escaped him how this activity related to combat exactly.
"Any questions?"
Before he had time to air any misgivings, the irritating woman already rushed on with her program. Where was Major Neithardt when you needed him?
"Okay kids, each of you get yourself a partner please!"
It was most surprising how quickly his classmates sought each other out. Gaius invited the Reinford Heiress with a graceful bow and an outstretched hand, his posture as solid as rock. Fie literally teleported in front of Schwarzer and wordlessly pointed at him with her outstretched finger. Craig asked Laura with quite a noticeable blush. As for Regnitz and Millstein? They tried to invite each other at the same time, resulting in both of them apologizing for seemingly preempting the other and falling into an almost comical loop of apologizing for the apology.
"And that leaves Mr Stand-offish." Jusis saw Instructor Valestein swaggering towards him, her merry mood only serving to worsen the premonition he felt. He sighed.
"So you are to serve as my partner, instructor?"
"What can you do? Class VII has an uneven number of cadets. Fortunately, little old me is here to even things out." She winked. The woman then turned to the direction of the balustrade. "Hey George, everything set up?"
"Just say the word," a rough but friendly voice sounded from above.
"All pairs, take your position just like I taught you. Gentlemen, you are to put your right hands on the small of the back. Waist height, not lower. Even if it's tempting."
Jusis suppressed rolling his eyes, but then the woman was already upon him, her arms opening up to accept the dancer's embrace. He drew her nearer, trying to set themselves into a comfortable position like he did many times before, but just as he felt the contact between their arms to be adequate, his pectorals encountered noticeable resistance. Were these...?
The Albarea scion used his superior willpower to prevent himself from looking down, lest he committed a serious faux-pas. He also opened up their embrace a bit. A slightly stiff posture was an acceptable sacrifice and for the life of him, he couldn't remember ever facing such a problem with a dance partner before. But then again, most of the girls with whom he shared the dance floor were fresh out of their social debut, still on the cusp of womanhood and what in Aidios' name was he even thinking about?
"Oooh, are you blushing? So you do have a cute side."
Jusis wasn't going to honor the woman's tripe with a reply. "Shouldn't we get on with the program, instructor?"
The fuchsia haired woman snapped her fingers as answer. Music filled the hall shortly after, though he was aware even beforehand that it was going to be a waltz, what with the way Valestein craned her neck sideways, the typical waltz posture required by the lady.
The dance turned out to be a surprising pleasant affair. The instructor performed the steps and figures with elegance and while the clothes she wore didn't really fit the occasion, what with the military coat carelessly draped over her shoulders, her skills on the dance floor were without question. As the man he was of course taking the leading role, but when the first slow piece ended, a generic minuet, it was followed by a string scherzo. While he initially feared that he wouldn't be able to keep up his leading with the higher tempo Instructor Valestein still executed all the figures he envisioned as if she was reading his mind.
So that was the so called Combat Link? Seemed more like a semi-telepathic connection.
The second, much quicker waltz ended without flaw and Jusis gave the customary bow which she answered with a curtsy of all things. It looked completely out of character on a woman like her, but Jusis wasn't going to complain that she was observing tradition.
The music stopped and Instructor Valestein addressed the whole class again: "So kids, this was a good warm-up. I hope each of you got a feeling for your partner because now it's time to mix things up a bit. Let's test out if all of you really have a Combat Link active. Role change! The ladies are going to dance the men's steps and vice versa."
Jusis palmed his face. And here the other shoe finally dropped. Elliot Craig raised his hand hesitantly. "Um, instructor, you and Major Neithardt never taught us, well, the opposite gender's steps. I would like to say that the movements are simply mirrored, but the ladies' figures are so much more complicated."
The fuchsia haired woman just nodded enthusiastically in the face of Craig's perfectly justified reservation. "That's exactly the point. The trick is to utilize the ARCUS-Link and perform the moves of your partner while at the same time thinking of your original moveset."
"So we are basically leading each other at the same time through the ARCUS?" Rean stated.
"You got it!"
The Albarea noble folded his arms, his voice icy. "Are we seriously going to continue this travesty? You expect Erebonian men to twirl, traipse and pirouette around as if we were wearing a skirt? There's a reason each gender have their respective roles in the ballroom."
"While I'm loath to agree with him, I also feel uncomfortable doing this." So Regnitz was on his side for once.
"Oh don't be such spoilsports. There's no reason to be embarrassed or anything." Their devil instructor wore a cocky grin. "Or what? Feeling emasculated doing some little lady figures?" She looked at the female members of Class VII. "So girls, what do you think?"
Getting one look at the Reinford Heiress' expression told him that she wasn't going to support his stance. "I'm all for this exercise. I don't see any reason why women shouldn't be allowed to lead." She gave him a quick glare.
Wait. That wasn't what he was implying.
Laura was shifting uncomfortably. "Instructor. I must admit that I already know how to perform the men's steps."
The rest of the class all swiveled their attention towards her. The ladies seemed especially intrigued and thinking about it, Jusis remembered the one occasion he saw Laura during a social gathering and back then, young noblewomen flocked to her.
"Oooh, a real heartthrob, aren't you?" The fuchsia haired woman pressed both her hands palm to palm. "As far as I see besides these two prudes, the rest of you don't have much of a problem with the exercise. Don't forget kids, this isn't really a dancing class. We're using the activity to ease you up on the ARCUS Links. Now get to it! Chop-chop."
Jusis stretched out his arm in what he hoped was an authoritative gesture, but before he could get another word in edgewise, the cursed instructor was already upon him. "Come on, Cadet Albarea. It's time to show the world how well you do with twirls and pirouettes."
Swapping the move set to that of the opposite sex made the exercise much harder. There were lots of stumbles and stepped upon toes, him included, but apparently Valestein wasn't satisfied with the amount of humiliation she already inflicted.
"What's the matter class? It's lame to just do the basic steps. Get these Combat Links working! I want to see some fancy moves from the guys."
The woman was certainly making him work. While the ARCUS connection was just a fleeting sensation beforehand, the link became much more keener as he was bombarded with ghostly commands, movement patterns he wasn't aware of which his body followed with trouble. At some point, he caught himself swaying his hips a little stronger than he would normally do. The devil instructor saw it though all it elicited was a teasing grin.
Some excruciating minutes later, the song finally finished playing and he was released from the cruel lead. Again, Valestein went to the middle of their group. "Well, there's still room for improvement here. Does anybody feel like they have problems with their Combat-Link connection? No one? Good." She folded her arms. "Now listen: I'll admit this exercise is difficult and once everybody has committed the new movements to muscle memory, you could technically perform well without relying on your ARCUS. But don't fear - I have a niiice collection of other dance styles to teach you once that happens. And given that they are popular in Calvard, I doubt anyone here knows them." She glanced at Laura.
"I wasn't aware Calvardians have their own versions of ballroom dances," Alisa mused.
"Oh they do, though I wouldn't exactly say those dances are fit for the ballroom." The devil instructor winked.
Rean scratched his head. "What exactly are you going to teach us, instructor?"
"Knowing her, it's probably something unsavory," Machias groused.
"It's going to be embarrassing," Fie quipped.
"I for one am eager to learn these," Gaius said. "Nord people don't really have this elaborate tradition of dances made exclusively for one pair of man and woman."
"But you do have your own dance culture, don't you?" Elliot asked.
Gaius chuckled. "Yes, but it always involve big groups of people. My dad once...told me about mating dances which are just between two persons, but these are never performed in public."
"M-mating dances?" Emma spluttered.
The Nord denizen blinked guilelessly. "Looking at body language and placement, it's pretty clear what we are doing right now qualifies. Though I guess here in Erebonia it's seen more as a means of courtship, right?"
Jusis sighed. "Courtship is exactly what it is, Gaius. Please don't let yourself be caught calling the waltz a 'mating dance' in polite company. The average noble will take heavy offense at this."
"He's correct though", Rean interjected. "Historically a lot of popular ballroom dances originated during the middle ages, mostly in the area which is the Lamarre Province today. They were performed by commoners and popularized in red-light districts. It was only after the routines were... sanitized that the nobles adapted them for their own use."
"This piece of information I could have done without." Laura glared at Schwarzer, while Emma and Alisa were blushing.
"Okay kids. As funny as the whole conversation is, we aren't here to chit-chat. Get back to your partners and continue the exercise. We're burning daylight."
Meikyo Shisui. The mind be as clear as a polished mirror. The heart as peaceful as still water. Rean repeated the mantra again and again, but the lure which danced restlessly on the lake's surface exposed his true inner state.
Nothing like fishing to show just how far he had to go as a swordsman.
The barrel only carried two Kasuagins after a whole hour of trying. Usually he would simply abort the activity and try again when he was in a more appropriate state of mind. More often than not fishing was simply a way for him to relax and meditate, the catches merely a nice bonus.
Just not today. Despite some initial protest from Towa he convinced her to give him requests to do around campus. Just like at Baldurs she had maintained her open-door policy including the offer to help everyone in need. And just like before, the requests dealt with problems of an unconventional nature that didn't neatly fit into the institution's purview. Like right now, for the owner of restaurant Kirsche needed at least 3 curim of fresh white fish to develop a new recipe.
He still had afternoon courses and then there was a certain appointment which was the main cause of his anxiety. Different than Baldurs, Thors didn't have Free Days. As Major Neithardt told them Free Days at the military academies were a way to teach students independence and time management, but still within a fixed structure. Now that they were part of Thors, the faculty expected them to have internalized this sense of independence. As such, besides obligatory courses, randomly occurring exams and the field studies, they were free to utilize the rest of their time as they saw fit.
They still had to write reports on what exactly they were doing with their free time. The major also made it clear that failing to do something productive or faking their reports would be met with harsh consequences.
Rean felt the impatience chewing on him and again, a tremble went through the line to the lure, scaring away the fish. He sighed and reeled in the empty line. While there were still about three hours until the afternoon seminars, he hadn't eaten lunch yet. And before that he had a duel to fight.
The black-haired youth took out his cadet notebook and pulled out the challenge letter.
Hello Rean Schwarzer,
I'm not much for flowery words, so I'll get straight to the point: I challenge you to a duel on the 15th of March 1:30 p.m. I've reserved sparring hall three for half an hour. Don't be late and bring your best game - and a second, if you want.
Angelica Rogner.
He fought his fair share of duels at his former school. Being a military academy located in Roer there were a couple of noble families who still had recollections about the Schwarzer name despite his dad's self-imposed isolation already lasting five years back then. As such, there was a lot of friction with his noble classmates during the first months as well as the occasional duel.
It wasn't all bad though. He quickly discovered that these sanctioned fights were a good conduit to lessen the encroaching darkness within him. Rean pressed a hand against his heart. In the furthest recesses of his mind he likened that power of his to a rabid never-tiring attack dog, constantly straining against the chains that held it in place. Over the years after that incidence with Elise, he had learned to listen to the struggle of the animal as well as how it reacted to his actions.
Meditation, the striving for a calm mind was a good measure to strengthen the metaphorical chains, his self-control that kept the infernal dog at bay. But it was during his training with master when he came to the conclusion that this wasn't a long-term solution. Constant vigilance was mentally draining. No matter the degree of one's self-control no human being could maintain it twenty four-seven.
In this sense he probably realized more than his fellow classmates the sheer difficulty, perhaps even cruelty of Thors' second motto: treat the world as if it's a constant battlefield.
A fight though, an occasion to indulge in physical brutality, it was like throwing the dog a bone. Despite its crazed nature food was food and channeling his killing intent during a duel with safety measures in place calmed the beast down, which in turn gave him blessed periods of time to lessen his death-grip on self-control.
To his profound consternation slaughtering monsters never provided the same kind of relief compared to fighting fellow humans, which only cemented in his mind that this power of his, this thing he never asked for, was malicious in nature.
Of course being challenged by the heir of one of the Four Great Houses opened its own can of worms, made even worse by the fact that his dad's barony belonged to the sphere of influence of said Great House. He had heard various wild rumors about the sole female child of Marquis Rogner during his time in Roer, but he never gave it much attention because the Rogner heir didn't attend the military academy there. But to see her name suddenly pop up like this, just what has prompted it exactly?
"Hey, what's the matter? Brooding on a day with this much sunshine? You are spoiling the atmosphere!"
Rean looked up and saw a tall cadet wearing the green uniform of a commoner, his shock of white hair tamed by a bandanna. The swordsman stood up. "Crow was it? Guess we never introduced ourselves properly after the orienteering exercise. Rean Schwarzer."
"Don't sweat it. So, fishing the day away? You sure are more easygoing than I thought."
The swordsman scratched his cheek. "I'm not so sure about the easygoing part. And as you see, I'm not exactly successful."
Crow shrugged. "Nah, that's no reason to be down. How about I show you a little trick?"
"A trick?"
"You got 50 mira?"
Rean looked the guy up and down. He sure was shifty. Well, it was only small change. "Sure, here you are."
"Cheers!"
The second-year flipped the coin and just as it was descending, he grabbed it with both hands, ending in him crossing his arms.
"So? Which hand is holding the coin? Left or right?"
The swordsman folded his arms. A trick, huh? He kicked the knapsack laying between Crow's feet. "The coin's in there, right?"
Silence descended upon them for a long moment. The second-year's mouth was hanging open. It took him several attempts to finally get his bearing. "You might be the first one who has seen through the trick on the first try. Are you already familiar with it?"
Rean gave the white-haired guy a half-lidded stare. "I'm not really familiar with methods to hustle people, so no. But you should have performed the trick with the sun at your back. I saw a short flash beneath your hands and that gave it away."
"Dang, to overlook something basic like that. But you sure you aren't in the business of doing tricks and stuff? This is some serious talent."
"I think I'll stick to history and martial-arts."
"Shame. To think master Crow got beaten by a firstie. I'll have to work on my coin tricks again - and the cards, and dice."
Coins, cards and dice? "You don't happen to gamble, do you?"
"Of course I do. Gambling is a microcosm of life itself. Any self-respecting man should indulge in it at least once. Or what? You telling me you've never gambled before?"
This was a conversation he absolutely didn't want to continue. He demonstratively showed the second-year his back. "Sorry, but I have to continue fishing."
He heard the guy plopping down beside him. Rean sighed. "You don't have anything better to do?"
"Beside trying and failing to hustle first-years? Not really."
"Now that you mention it, you still haven't given me back my 50 mira."
"Did anyone ever tell you that you take everything too seriously?"
"My 50 mira please."
"Tch. Cheapskate."
But before he could continue to insist on his money, he felt a tug on the line. Attention diverted, Rean strengthened his grip on the fishing rod, a Lakelord Mk2. His catch fought hard even as he flipped between reeling and loosening to tire out the fish. This was going to be a big one.
After an epic struggle the catch was finally dragged out of the water. It turned out to be a gigantic rainbow trout.
Crow whistled. "Man, didn't know these things become as big as that."
"Same here." Rean took out measuring tape and changed his ARCUS setting from chronometer to weighing scale. After calibrating his orbment with the already filled bucket, he measured length and mass and studiously jotted it down in his fishing notebook. As expected the rainbow trout was a new record and exceeded his former entry by almost double the length and thrice its weight. Perhaps a mutation caused by all the Sepith inside? He might contact Kenneth about it.
He straightened himself and packed up his fishing gear. High time to bring the catch to Kirsche. The rainbow trout alone came to 3.43 curim. Should be more than enough for the barista.
"What are you going to do next? Simply unload the fish and go your merry way?"
He glanced at the second-year. "That's what I planned."
"Oh come on. Aren't you going to extract the sepith? It would be a shame otherwise, with a giant haul like that."
"I thought cadets like us can requisition quartz and sepith."
"Yeah we can. But let me tell you: the amount's pitiful and quartz they give out is outdated crap most of the time. Besides, the quartz for ARCUS models require a different cut and internal wiring, so you can be sure as gehenna that military surplus isn't going to have any for you, prototype technology and all."
"You are surprisingly well informed."
"There wouldn't be much reason to flaunt my seniority otherwise. So if you are ever in need of advice," he pointed with his thumb at himself, "old Crow is ready to serve." He winked.
He couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. "I'll keep it in mind."
The moment they entered the restaurant, the proprietor dashed towards the second year, desperation written on his face.
"Aidios be thanked! Crow help me out!"
Rean watched in bewilderment how a grown man clung to a student a decade his junior as if he was some kind of lifeline keeping him from drowning. "Relax Fred. What happened?"
"I need to know your bets for the coming race," he said with tears in his eyes.
The black-haired youth suppressed the urge to palm his face.
"Let me guess, you lost the last bet when you stubbornly hoped for Lino Bloom to make an upset and because today is your mid-month cash-check, Dolly's going to find out about the deficit."
The tears were flowing freely now. Fortunately only old man Abbot was present and he seemed pretty inured to the whole drama. On the other hand, the noon rush was soon to come.
"Yes, yes. Now please Crow, be my savior!"
"Come on, Fred. You do realize that even if you win today's Silver-Anniversary race-bet, the money isn't going to magically appear in the cash register, right? Dolly's going to chew you out one way or the other."
"I know. But the prospect of a big win might put her in a more forgivable mood."
The second-year rolled his eyes "I'm not so sure about that. But are you certain you want to use my betting strategy? I'm going for an exacta. That takes guts."
The proprietor visibly gulped. "When the chips are down, you always come through. I trust your instincts."
Crow shrugged. "Your funeral, Fred. First place Ebon Flash, second place Pegasus Strider."
The man ran back behind the counter like greased lightning, probably to fill out his ticket. Moments later he dashed out of his own store. Rean lowered the bucket he was carrying, feeling slightly useless. But he didn't have to wait for long until Fred returned again.
"Thank you Crow," the man said between catching his breath.
Rean stepped forward. "Sir, here's the white fish you requested."
Fred blinked. "Oh right, you are the cadet Towa recommended. And you already finished? That was quick, thank you!" He looked between him and the second year. "And you are also friends with Crow? Hah, you're engaging with the right people, let me tell you."
The proprietor took the bucket and went in the direction of the kitchen.
"Hey Fred, don't throw the stomach away when you disembowel the fish. This is a rainbow trout. And don't forget the special seasoning."
They only heard a muted "Got it!" as the door closed.
"You already eaten lunch?"
"No, I didn't."
"Then let's take a seat. Fred might seem a little flaky, but his skills in the kitchen's the real deal. He'll fix the stuff up quickly. Besides you aren't going to walk away on some sweet sepith, aren't you?"
Both of them sat down. "You seem to be pretty good friends with the owner."
Crow grinned. "Let's just say we share a passion."
Rean rolled his eyes. "Really."
"So, how's Thors life treating you?"
For the next ten minutes the black-haired youth told the second year about his first week. He went through the courses, Sara's antics, the challenge and in a rare moment of openness even mentioned the awkward situation of sitting in the same class as his ex.
"Seriously? You and the Reinford chick? Man, never judge a book by its cover. I didn't think someone like you has been in a relationship already."
"First of all, Crow, her name is Alisa. And what do you mean with 'someone like me couldn't be in a relationship?'"
"Just thinking out loud. You seem to be the type who has too much on his plate and just continues to heap on more. Reminds me of someone. And you know, with all the stress there's probably not much room for something as involved as a romantic twosome."
Rean was speechless for a moment. Emotions seethed inside him, a painful cocktail of regret, melancholy and fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection as well as the tried and true fear of himself. He closed his eye to regain his center.
"This is surprisingly insightful," he said aloud, though hitting the mark was more appropriate. Looking back he truly lacked the commitment for a romantic relationship.
"Sorry. Didn't want to open up old wounds."
"No, it's nothing."
Luckily, the awkward silence that followed didn't last long - the proprietor arrived and put two big plates on the table. Rean recognized potatoe wedges as well as a gigantic burger. When looking at what was between the buns, he didn't saw a typical meat patty but instead...
"Is that deep fried fish?"
"Yep. Fish burgers. A family recipe of mine."
Fred laughed. "And Crow was generous enough to teach me."
"Let's see how my wayward pupil has fared. Dig in, Rean."
The smell was tantalizing to say the least. He didn't hesitate long and took a big bite, followed by an explosion of taste as the differnt textures melted inside his mouth.
"This is really good."
"Glad you like it. Hey, Fred?"
"Yes, Crow?"
"Bring us two apple ciders. And you might have to adjust the recipe a bit. The one I gave you was for seawater fish, but freshwater fish requires a different approach."
The barrister took out a notepad. "I'm all ears."
"It's mainly the sauce. Use sweetened mustard with a base of mayonnaise. As for aromatic herbs, fennel instead of dill."
"Thanks. I'll get to it immediately. You want seconds?"
Rean shook head. "This is more than enough. I have to engage in physical activity later, but in the evening I'm definitely coming for more."
Fred nodded amicably. He then took out a wooden box. "And here's the trout's stomach. Once the Sepith is extracted it should add up to quite a sum."
"But sir, this is too much. You are already treating us."
"Nonsense. The request was only for the flesh, nothing more. The rest is something you've earned yourself. And don't mind the meal. A friend of Crow is a friend of mine. No need to be a stranger."
After some more thanks both cadets finished their food in peace. The second year leaned back in his seat, pushing his empty plate to the middle of the table. "Man, this is the stuff!"
"You don't strike me as a gourmet, but the way you instructed the barrister was really impressive."
"Just call him Fred. I'm sure he would welcome it. And believe me, I'm not really that great a cook except when it comes to fish dishes."
"You grew up in a port town?"
Crow smirked. "Perhaps. But on another topic, you mentioned something about a challenge. Care to elaborate?"
Rean sighed. "Sorry, I really don't want to burden you further..."
"Let me be the judge of that."
He stilled before he caved under the second year's inquisitive gaze. Moments later the black-haired youth took out the challenge letter and showed it to Crow who whistled loudly. "The Rogner Heir wants a piece of you, too? Are you some kind of celebrity attractor?"
"Didn't you say something about going to you for help?"
"Ha, my bad." The second year glanced outside the window. "But this is a matter that I can't really help you with myself. Just a lowly commoner here. Ever thought of asking your classmates? You also need a second."
"But I don't..."
"Want to burden them? Seriously?" He scratched his head. "Look, you need to learn to rely on other people. I mean, I could give you some idealistic speech about friendship or human cooperation but frankly: this officer school will utterly destroy you if you try to do everything by yourself. From a purely pragmatic standpoint you absolutely must ask others for help." He pointed with his thump towards the window. "And lookie here, some of your classmates are just outside - the son of one of the Great Houses among them. Surely he can be a counterweight to whatever the other Great House heir has cooked up for you."
Rean closed his eyes. Just now he was reminded of his fears again. He had a complex relationship with this particular emotion. It was the fear of his own power that drove him to become a student of the Eight Leaves One Blade. It was the fear of failure that made him push himself. But the fear of rejection? How did it benefit him at all? Didn't it instead prevent him from trying to reach out to other people? He gripped the edge of the table, probably with more force than necessary, but he finally made his decision.
"Thank you for everything." He stood up and performed a small bow. "I need to go now."
"Break a leg. Or two."
"Right."
As he saw the black-haired youth ran outside and meet with his classmates, a wistful smile appeared on Crow's lips. "And this was my good deed for the day."
She was surrounded by bliss. Her tongue wrestled like it had a life of its own, exploring the inside of her inamorata's mouth. Her hands roved around wildly, exploring the curves and mounds of this budding flower. A slight moan escaped the girl's mouth, but she silenced it quickly by deepening the kiss. The heat turned up more. Both of them lost their footing though their excellent reflexes allowed them to regain balance.
Nothing to do but advance.
She pushed until they met the wall, eliciting a cute yelp. Oh, this was just too precious. Her fingers wandered upwards, caressing the lustrous cyan locks, intent on attacking the buttons.
"No, Lady Angelica! Someone might see us."
She laughed lasciviously. "Why should it matter? Aren't we compromised enough?"
Miriam pouted. "You're shameless, Lady Angelica."
"Tut, tut. There are no lords or ladies that shall stand in the way of our love. Leave our titles where they belong."
Just as she was about to peel away the first layer of clothes, a most unwelcome interloper spoiled this most sacred of moments. "For Aidios' sake this is a public building, Gelica!"
Her lover yelped like a deer caught in the headlights. Moments later she ran away, apologies dropping out of her sweet lips like nectar.
"Crow, I think my fist might have an urgent appointment with your face."
"Relax. I would never disturb your 'hunting time' if it weren't important, you know?"
Angelica cracked her knuckles. "I'm listening."
"Isn't there a duel for you to fight?" He demonstratively opened his ARCUS orbment. "And it's in five minutes, just saying."
She bit down a scathing remark. The birdbrain was actually correct. "How come you know about it?"
His cheshire grin became punchably smug. "I have my ways. Besides, wasn't that the scion of that one noble house who's sworn to your own - what was their name again? Schleiden?"
"So?"
"Seems like privilege abuse to me, you know? When the Rogner heiress's asking, it seems hard for one of them to refuse."
Angelica bristled. "The Schleidens are a military family. An official request bearing the Rogner name involves them putting their lives on the line to fight or to support us politically. Everything else doesn't fall under their purview."
"Really?" The white-haired menace shrugged. "Guess I did say girl on girl is hot, but don't forget how it might be seen by the rest of the school."
"You are just envious."
"That too."
They quickly left the janitor's wing, an usually safe place to have a little tryst during working hours, and marched to the gymnasium. Shortly after, Angelica and Crow entered sparring hall three which was already occupied. There were five other people in total, all of them newly minted members of Class VII. Hopefully additional spectators were going to appear later. When meeting Miriam today she wanted her to spread word of the duel. That was until they were distracted by more pleasurable matters.
She shook her head to clear it from distracting thoughts and focused on the people in front. Two of them she knew beforehand: Jusis Albarea, second son of Helmut Albarea, the 'unfavorite'. She hadn't met him often. His brother Rufus was far more visible during social gatherings, but they got along the few times they talked. The feeling of being an unwanted child was something they shared.
As for the other, she was probably the one female noble who rivaled her when it came to conquering the hearts of innocent maidens. But while Angelica milked her conquests for all it was worth, Laura Arseid tended to be oblivious towards all the adoration she evoked in members of her own sex. A waste really, but she suspected the Arseid heir simply swung the normal, boring way.
The other two weren't known to her: a somewhat effeminate young man with orange hair who didn't look like he belonged in an officer school at all, though Angelica would be the first to admit that looks could be deceiving, what with her darling Towa. The other young man was quite simply a stud: chocolate colored skin, broad muscular shoulders and probably about 1,90 arge tall. His face was fine-boned, but still exuded a strong sense of masculinity.
Oh well, she could appreciate a nice piece of man-meat, but the soft curves of the female form stoked her passions so much more. And speaking of studs, her target was certainly one. Also tall, about 1,80 arge, though it was hard to tell with his unruly mop of raven hair. She wondered if the guy took extra care or whether it simply looked this way naturally. Despite it's wild and seemingly chaotic nature it looked oddly stylish. His face was handsome enough to grace the front page of a fashion magazine. It was as if the Goddess collected the most important parts of classic Erebonian beauty standards, straight out of historical paintings and sculptures, and condensed them in a single male face. Not exactly her type, but she could picture swathes of young noble maidens, especially those enjoying higher education, falling for looks like that.
If anything she couldn't fault her dear, sweet Towa for having bad taste.
Her opponent spoke up first, his voice sounding miffed. "You could've warned me beforehand, Crow."
"Come on, where would be the fun in that? Oh, and greetings Big E, ladies and gentlemen of Class VII."
The effeminate boy and companions greeted back, though the red head seemed flustered. So another one of Crow's buddies from his academy days? Strange. He didn't seem the type to really get along with that rough loudmouth.
"You're the one who challenged me? Angelica Rogner, I presume?"
She turned her attention back to the black-haired youth and put both her hands akimbo. That's why she loved wearing her biking leathers. Nobody tripped over themselves trying to be all polite to match her social standing. Fortunately, Mr Unruly Black Hair seemed to get the message and went straight to the point, without all the flowery bullshit. "Yeah, that's me. You ready?"
"Not quite. Before we begin I have two questions."
She smirked and showed teeth. He didn't flinch. "Yeah?"
"First is why? When I received your letter yesterday, I feared I slighted you somehow without knowing, but now that we're standing face to face I don't feel any animosity. My second question pertains to the terms of the duel."
Angelica shrugged nonchalantly. "There really isn't much to it. I guess my reason for wanting to duel you boils down to the saying that actions speak louder than words. For the last week you were seen with Towa several times, usually when she invited you to dinner and as her close friend I'm somewhat curious just who she's spending so much time with."
She watched him closely as she spoke and saw him looking at Crow several times.
"So you two are the precious friends Towa was talking about. I didn't quite expect to be introduced to you like this."
Precious friends? Angelica wasn't sure what surprised her more: Towa being so open with the guy or him saying something so cheesy with a straight face. "Now don't misunderstand! Anyone who prevents Towa from overworking herself is alright in my book, but can you fault me for being curious?"
"Are you talking about Towa Herschel?" The foreigner asked.
Angelica smirked again. "The one and only. You heard of her?"
He nodded. "Her reputation at Baldurs precedes her. She was considered extremely...competent."
"I've also heard the name thrown around on campus," Jusis added. "Isn't she the current Cadet Committee Chairwoman?"
"The committee?" The effeminate boy exclaimed with wide eyes. "I read about it in our cadet notebook. Aren't they like totally important in running activities here at Thors? They even have a say in institutional policies."
"I remember something similar," Laura mused. She folded her arms and tilted her head delicately. "And you were dining with such an influential person, Rean? Several times in fact?" She arched a questioning eyebrow.
Jusis huffed. "I pegged you for a noble who didn't care about social games, but it seems I must reevaluate my opinion of you."
The black haired youth scratched his head in embarrassment. "Guys, please don't misunderstand. We're just good friends from our time at Baldurs. We ate together at the cafeteria and because she always works until late, it coincides with dinnertime. That's all." He turned towards Angelica with a lidded stare. "It seems though as if someone is intent on causing unnecessary rumors and misunderstandings."
"Come on!" Crow said in his easy-going way, "don't put your panties in a twist, Reanie boy. Just like Angelica explained, anyone who prevents Towa from overworking herself is alright in our books. This is merely a friendly match."
Angelica pointed her thumps at the white-haired menace. "What he said. And to answer your second question: this is a showing of skill. Crow here is even going to cast Adamantine Shield on both of us. One solid hit, one point. No follow up attacks until protection is reapplied and best out of three."
The black haired youth nodded. "Sounds fine to me but I would like to add another condition: direct injuries are cause for disqualification."
Angelica smirked. "Agreed. Another incentive for the clown here to cast properly. Who's your second?"
Laura stepped forward. "I have bore witness to the agreed conditions and consider them appropriate. May the better warrior win."
She put on her steel gauntlets and assumed her stance. A moment later, Crow's arts casting was finished. Her opponent paused for a moment, an expression of surprise flitting across his face.
"Your style is an empty-handed one." He strengthened the grip on his tachi, but didn't draw it. "Are you going to be okay?" He asked with concern in his voice.
Assenting murmur followed his words. Seems the little Class VII chickees shared his worries. Always with the doubting.
"You should ask yourself the question instead, lover boy. Here at Thors, they call me the Blade-Breaker. You ready?"
He stroked his chin. "Blade-Breaker. Hmm, good to know." Her opponent deepened his stance, but the eastern sword still remained in its sheath. "Rean Schwarzer." He paused and cast her a meaningful look. "Hachiyou Ittou Ryuu. Ready!"
Angelica almost didn't catch his charge. From one second to the next, he was upon her, his blade extended in a two-handed thrust.
Long ingrained reflexes took over. Ki flowed into her fists, hardening them to the likeness of rocks. A powerful flick of her armored backhand to let the attack overshoot, followed by both her hands closing on the base of the blade, halting it completely.
Her consciousness caught up to her when she heard the sound of a sword leaving its scabbard. Her hands told her that what she was gripping didn't feel like naked steel at all.
She sensed more than saw him twisting his body, followed by a flash going for her right flank. She released the sheath from her grip, a freaking decoy, and desperately moved her right leg and arm.
A clank. Murmuring from the onlookers and only a sliver of surprise from the swordsman. Angelica glared. It wouldn't hurt the little punk to be slightly impressed at least, for she caught his slash between her knee and elbow.
He reacted instantly by adding his free hand to the grip and adjusting his legwork. A moment later, the steel between her joints started to etch forward. Angelica had to strain all muscles in her body to maintain her hold on the blade as well as her balance with just one foot connected to the ground.
This was the worst kind of binding ever. An uneasy stalemate with her opponent holding all the aces. She had banked on him being too surprised with her unconventional blade-catch to react properly, but he was having none of it.
Angelica inhaled deeply and focused her breath towards the base of her stomach.
And inhaled.
And inhaled.
Goldia's glittering luster.
She intertwined her spiritual energy with her natural control over space, compressing her accumulated Ki, so her body could handle it safely.
She loosened her hold, twisting her torso away from the incoming thrust, but the swordsman was already charging again, shoulder primed for a bodycheck, his sword ready to slash.
Just as expected.
Her right palm met his shoulder the moment both her feet were connected to the ground again. It meant that her stance wasn't deep enough, so she could harness only a sliver of energy from the ground. Her right hand, which had to stem her opponents full body weight, didn't have any opportunity yet to move forward and gain strike velocity.
The kinetic energy of an impact is one-half mass multiplied with velocity squared.
So zero velocity meant zero impact.
A detonation of spiritual energy, followed by a black haired little punk being catapulted back. The ding of the Adamantine Shield breaking resounded across the hall. Her enemy caught himself midair and softened his fall with a backwards roll.
"Point for Angelica", Crow called out. "And playing your trump card this early? I taught you better than that."
"Shut up birdbrain!" She grasped her spiritual connection with the ARCUS, drawing even more golden energy from the quartz within. No more playing around. It had been some time since she encountered someone worth her while.
The black-haired swordsman took a stance, left foot forward and blade-tip pointed backwards. "The famed Zero Impact from the Satsujinken branch of the Taito Fist. Never expected an Erebonian noble to have mastered such a rare technique."
Wasn't he well informed? Truth be told, she was cheating a little to perform the technique properly.
The Rogner heir struck both her fists against each other, eliciting a ringing sound as her armored gloves collided. "You're one to talk. An Eight Leaves One Blade practitioner from the Empire? I thought Poms would rather fly out of my mouth."
And he was utilizing waki-gamae, a stance designed to hide the length of a drawn blade. According to her master, most modern sword art dojos in Calvard didn't bother with this kind of deception, for the length of their weapons were regulated, the sword practitioners more concerned with tournament rules than true martial spirit. Well, it was pretty clear Schwarzer's blade-length was anything but regular. Apparently, he wasn't a mere pretender.
Another art protection was cast. Both opponents deepened their stances.
They charged at each other simultaneously, but before Angelica could properly punch his face in, he disappeared from her sight.
What the...?
Her instincts screamed. Angelica jumped from her full charge, only to see the glint of a blade rising. Deflection from midair as the swordsman shot past her from below, the length of his body almost parallel to the ground with mere rege separating him from kissing the floor. So he even knew Shukuchi?
Angelica stabilized her landing with a twist dive, going into a routine cat-stance. From there, she performed a high kick quickly followed by a reverse roundhouse kick. Both attacks were empowered by Ki, resulting in two successive shock-waves of air flying towards her opponent.
Orange flames lit up the length of the swordman's blade. He performed a cross-slash, neutralizing her ranged attacks and as fire met air, her shock-waves were devoured for sustenance causing the flames to expand in a brilliant whirl.
The Rogner heir blinked due to the sudden brightness, but as the fire started to dissipate, she saw her enemy with his sword sheathed, the lacquered metal glowing with energy. When did the little punk find the time to grab it?
She shouldn't have been surprised when he fired off his own version of a ranged attack, but she barely swayed out of the way. A shock-wave of air? No, this was pure Ki. The next moment, he followed up with another ranged slash.
Angelica inhaled deeply again, pooling her inner energy at the base of her stomach. A sudden, brutal exhale as she shouted her kiai, the spiritual wave canceling his Ki-slash, the thunderous sound making the black haired punk stumble for the fraction of a second.
More than enough.
Blackened tendrils of time swept through her body as she stepped across the distance between them, invading his maai with impunity, forcing him into ultra-close melee. Three straight punches followed, their speed inhuman, for her fists were accelerated by nohval energy and lightened by the gravitational manipulation of space. But Angelica wasn't willing to show any mercy, inverting the polarity of the goldia current just before her strikes landed, flipping the reduction of mass into a sharp increase.
He evaded her first punch, but his attempt to deflect the second unbalanced him, for he was hit with the force of an orbal powered sledgehammer. Her third punch sealed the deal, as his desperate block almost disarmed him, leaving his guard wide open.
And for the finisher.
A deep step-in followed by a snap-kick, the last part of her Infinity Combo. But just as she was about to taste sweet victory, her enemy twisted his body with unnatural grace and speed, his silhouette limned with blackness. An instant later, she felt how her attack was diverted by an expertly performed roundhouse kick, making her the unbalanced one.
Before she could even blink, the swordsman whipped his free arm towards her neck in a vicious knife-hand. Angelica raised her guard, but her opponent's arm coiled like a snake right before impact, a circular motion with his elbow as the fulcrum, ending in a vice-like grip around her wrist strong enough to be felt through Crow's physical arts protection.
The last thing she saw was Schwarzer reducing their distance to zero, while her body was pulled towards him. Her forehead exploded with concussive force strong enough to break the protection and throw her to the ground.
"And point for Reanie boy." Crow's voice was annoyingly smug. "My, Gelica. Are you going to let yourself be shown up by a firstie?"
Angelica suppressed her urge to pummel the lout senseless. She cursed and tried to blink stars away. A strike with the sword pommel. She had heard rumors about the famed versatility of the Eight Leaves, but this was getting ridiculous. Her opponent took out one distinct technique after the other like he was in possession of some kind of deranged martial-arts toolbox. And of course he ended up being a time incarnation. In the light of all these traits, the guy's affinity for fire only rated a mere afterthought.
"Are all second years as strong as you?" At least the punk had enough courtesy to be out of breath.
She scoffed. "What do you think?"
The familiar tingle of the Adamantine Shield washed over her. Round three. Angelica closed her eyes, centering her roiling emotions. When was the last time she had a fight this close? Usually, only nobles dared to duel her and after a year, grinding court fencers into the dirt was getting stale. Technically, her enemy right now was also noble, but as the presumed heir of the Nortia Marquisdom she was well aware of the nasty rumors being told about that small barony just at the northern edge of her family's territory.
When she opened her eyes, her sight turned everything into sharp relief. A deep breath to circulate the bounty given by the dragon stream. She slowly assumed nekoashi-dachi, the cat-foot stance, luxuriating in the feeling of bursting vitality. Her opponent stilled. Not a wisp of Ki or nohval current could be felt. Even his breathing died down, his entire body as motionless as a statue. Angelica focused her senses on him, but all she perceived was... nothingness.
Something stirred in her memory.
It is from nothingness that endless possibilities are born. Zero symbolizes limitless potential.
The slightly lilting voice of the strongest and smartest woman she had ever known. An existence who gave her something to measure herself against. A distant ideal too beautiful to watch.
His transition from stillness to attack wasn't perceivable, but this was just a minor inconvenience as a second stretched into eternity. Afterimages trailed behind his wake as he sprinted towards her like a lion unleashed, the tachi obscured by his stance.
Angelica counter-charged to disrupt his timing, but just as she was about to deliver a punch, she perceived a little movement on both his shoulders. Her instincts screamed anew and she stopped her offensive just as his blade rose from seemingly nowhere to thrust straight through where her chin would be located had she continued her forward movement. A little stumble to stabilize herself followed by a step-in into his open side to perform a powerful low kick, aimed at his knee joint.
As if he anticipated her attack he crouched down and blocked the kick with the sword pommel, but instead of pushing against her foot she felt how his body gave away under the force, how he borrowed the kinetic energy of her kick to perform a lightning quick pirouette. His sword caught fire anew ending in a flaming downward slash. Angelica only had enough time to cross her gauntlets above her head, before the attack smashed against her guard making her knees buckle. Flames washed over. She felt no heat due to the protection, but the brightness disoriented her. Rainbow flickers obscured vision and then pressure against her abdomen. A straight kick that wasn't strong enough to break through the barrier. Angelica jumped back with the kinetic force to open the distance between them, barely avoiding another downward slash.
She cushioned the fall with a combat roll, desperate for some breathing room, but her opponent wasn't in the mood to grant any.
He charged once again, though this time his movement appeared straightforward and slightly off-center. Angelica side-stepped easily, a fluid tai-saibaki, fully intent on attacking his flank, but she was instead met with a wall of air which threatened to throw her down the ground again. She circulated goldia energy, increasing her entire body mass to mitigate the aftershock, barely managing to stay on her feet.
The swordsman turned around, his tachi brandished like the fang of mythical dragon. Winds were being stirred, green tinged turbulence gathering around his blade. Angelica continued her grasp on the goldia energy, but instead of making herself heavier she projected it outside.
The punk slashed across himself, releasing another shock-wave strong enough that all onlookers had to brace themselves from the displaced air. Space distorted and Angelica teleported a few arge forward, phasing through her enemy's attack completely. She felt lightheaded from the energy loss, her sight blackening out, but she gritted her teeth and continued ever onward to enter his maai again. Even half-blind she could feel the swordsman's hesitation, her instincts shouting in jubilation that she finally caught him totally flat-footed.
The boosted punch buried itself inside his midriff with a satisfying ping, strong enough that she felt his body folding itself. However he surprised her again as she felt the caress of his blade slide along her neck until her own protection gave away and she felt the tip of the tachi cutting slightly into skin.
"And match for Angelica!" Laura cried out. "Rean disqualifies himself due to causing direct injury."
The Rogner heiress raised a hand towards the side of her throat. She felt only a little prick, nothing but a paper cut. Interesting. Actio equals reactio. Even as her punch landed true, he used the energy of the knock-back and the folding movement of his own body to retaliate. The absurd length of his tachi allowed him to do a sliding cut with the upper third of the blade. Without Crow's Adamantine Shield, the duel would have ended in a mutual kill: him dying of ruptured organs and her entering the goddess's embrace because of a halfway severed neck.
Her sight returned to normal and despite the exhaustion she felt a feverish drive rising inside.
"This was a good match. And... sorry for the cut." The little punk walked with his classmates towards her, hand outstretched. She also registered other curious onlookers, most of them wearing pearly white uniforms. Very good. Miriam did as she asked.
Angelica grinned and shook his hand with more force than necessary, though his grip-strength was up to par. "No biggie. And the little injury you inflicted ensured my win - as well as my flawless victory record. We should do this again." She said all of it loud enough for the entire room to hear. "I didn't realize until now how out of practice I am. Going against the same Court Fencing style all the time dulled my skills."
The black-haired swordsman scratched his head. "I wouldn't disparage Court Fencing like that. It's quite an efficient style."
"Don't hold yourself back on my account," Jusis said sardonically. "Different than the Arseid or Vander style, Court Fencing wasn't created to brace the rigors of true battlefield conditions, but instead a means of winning regulated duels. Am I right to assume that your Taito and Schwarzer's Eight Leaves were also born in the crucible of war?"
Angelica could almost taste the sheer indignation radiating from the noble peanut gallery. She had to suppress a snicker. "Right you are, though the Eight Leaves is a slightly more complex issue, if I remember my lore correctly."
Laura nodded enthusiastically. "According to father, the different forms are derived from the secret household techniques of eight high-ranking martial arts sects in the East. And the founder of the style won the right to combine all eight styles by defeating the prize students of each sect successively during a legendary tournament."
Schwarzer was astonished to say the least. "I didn't expect you to be aware of master Ka-Fai's background in such detail."
The blue-haired beauty smiled. "So it's as I surmised. You're indeed a direct pupil of the founder. Master Ka-Fai and father correspond regularly and are well acquainted. Even I had the honor of speaking with him. Though I have to say, your display now was way above what you showed during the orienteering exercise when Instructor Valestein fought against us. Were you holding back?"
He scratched his cheek. "Of course I was holding back. We were fighting without any safety measures and most techniques of the Eight Leaves are designed to kill. While the forms are a collection of the teachings of eight different schools, all of them derived their techniques from life and death struggles."
A flicker of surprise and something darker appeared on Laura's face before she schooled it back to a stoic expression. "You're absolutely right. I spoke in haste. Serious training accidents have to be avoided at all costs, but even then the true edge of the style needs to be preserved. I have only just began my role as assistant instructor last month and father warned me repeatedly of this tightrope act."
"Okay guys, I know this place is crawling with martial arts nuts, but us common folks can't exactly follow your glowing enthusiasm. Besides, enabling this hellcat and her fighting prowess will only heap more grief on the rest of the cadets."
Angelica rolled her eyes, while Laura turned towards Crow. "Oh? I'm not sure I believe what you're saying. You seem pretty formidable yourself."
"Yeah, Crow had the best monster extermination scores back at Odins," Elliot chimed in. "He's really strong."
"Oh come on, Big E. You're making me blush. But now that we're gathered, how about a short stint to Kirsche's? You know, doing a little upperclassmen-underclassmen bonding. They even have a new item on the menu."
"Don't you find it problematic to advertise your own recipe this blatantly, Crow?" The black-haired swordsman rebuked.
"You loved my Fish Burgers and now you want to hog them all for yourself? For shame Reanie-boy. I didn't peg you for such a possessive guy."
"I didn't mean..."
"I'm all for it." Angelica cocked her hip. "And birdbrain here can foot the bill."
"Hey, you are the rich noble here."
"Sounds good to me." Jusis added his opinion. "Consider it a little investment to popularize your dish."
"It's not like I'm getting royalties or anything..." but Angelica was already leaving the Practice hall, the other Class VII chickees following her obediently. As they all left the training hall, the rest of the onlookers gave them a wide berth, clearly intimidated by the concentration of power and prestige.
"So, everything went down the way you wanted it?" Crow asked, glancing meaningfully at the cadets they left behind.
"Our black-haired swordsman was attracting the wrong kind of attention," Angelica whispered, "what with him hanging haplessly around Towa. This should scare off most of the average self-important buffoons at campus."
Her fellow second-year put his hands behind his head, whistling innocently and looking fondly at the Class VII members who were talking amicably with each other. "Ah, Gelica, always looking out for the ones you care about."
She smirked. "You're one to talk."
Additional notes
Zero Impact: Despite most Zemurian martial arts being more akin to a shonen fight fest than anything realistic, the Zero Impact introduced by Enforcer VIII Walter seems to be inspired by a real world technique, namely the one-inch punch popularized by Bruce Lee. Of course Bruce Lee's version isn't exactly Zero Impact, because as the name implies, the fist does travel a whole inch. But tactically, whether the fist only travels a really short distance or nothing at all doesn't really make much of a difference in terms of usage. In real martial arts, a technique like this isn't used to break down castle walls, because without the existence of some mystical Ki force, a properly thrown punch will always be more powerful than one performed with almost no travelling distance. It's instead used as a surprise move in extreme close quarter. If any of you have ever watched a boxing match, you might have noticed how the fighters sometimes clutches their opponent's body as if they are embracing. That's because in boxing, grappling or throwing techniques aren't allowed, so the maneuver effectively neutralizes both their damage output, for both of them can't properly throw punches from this close. But if one of the boxers mastered something like the one-inch punch, it would be possible to deal damage even in such a situation. Funnily enough, the one time Angelica performs the Zero Impact in a cut-scene is exactly how it should be used realistically - during her mech fight with her father, she was cornered and Marquis Rogner was using his Hector's superior weight and strength to press her down. Angelica's Spiegel was already kneeling, so gravity was also on her father's side, that is until he was thrown away by an explosion of force. In a real fight, an one-inch punch might not be able to catapult the enemy across the floor, but it is perfectly possible to break the bind and follow up with further attacks while the enemy is most likely surprised and his guard open.
Satsujinken: Murderer's Fist. Angelica's Craft list already has quite some overlap with Walter's (Laser Bullet and Zero Impact). I added the Craft Infinity Combo for good measure, because I always found her skill list too sparse for my taste.
Waki-Gamae: In case you didn't read the entries about German Longsword styles, this is Rean's default sword stance in canon.
Shukuchi: Literally 'earth reduction skill/technique". Those of you who are familiar with the Rurouni Kenshin franchise might already know it. In Bleach it's called Shunpo and I'm pretty sure Naruto or One Piece also have their versions of the 'Flash Step'. Shukuchi on the other hand is something that actually exists in real world martial art. When researching the word, the entries talk a lot about the etymological origin, but I didn't find anything about how it's performed. Realistically speaking, human beings can't move fast enough to entirely disappear from sight, so it stands to reason that the real world 'Flash Step' involves some measure to trick human vision. What I let Rean perform in this chapter is such a trick - for those of you who have played the first 30 minutes of Cold Steel 3, you might remember the scene when Rean arrives in Leaves and is greeted by Towa. The camera temporarily zooms to a first-person perspective and our newly minted instructor sees nothing because of course Falcom needs to make fun of Towa's height. Now imagine the same effect, only this time, it's deliberate. When we look straight forward, there's a dead angle in our vision though it can only be exploited if the distance is close and the opponent is either very small or makes him/herself so. For a tall guy like Rean to successfully do this, he needs to really contort himself, because he must also move forward while making himself small. Furthermore, he can't use his hands for stabilization because he's using a sword. But there's at least nothing supernatural about it, just almost superhuman body tension.