Yuriko gave a start at the raised voices. Ishika, who had been listening just as intently to the Armsmaster as Yuriko, turned to look in the direction of the boys. Armsmaster Byrne frowned at the interruption and stopped mid-word.

Although she’d already heard nearly the same lecture from her father, the Armsmaster’s experience gave her new insight. Virgil Davar was a marksman after all; Trevor Byrne usually found himself fighting up close and personal with the Wyldlings.

Yuriko’s eyes narrowed into a glare and she was about to reproach them for the noise when she saw Heron and Mikel.

Heron was about an inch away from Mikel, glaring down at the shorter boy. Side by side, the two of them couldn’t be more different. Heron was at least half a head taller–about an inch shorter than herself–muscular, with black hair and bronzed skin complementing his sharp features. Mikel, on the other hand, aside from his height and round face making him appear younger than thirteen, had fiery red hair, freckles, and pale skin that made him look frail.

Mikel’s face was beet red, his jaws clenched, knuckles white as his hands gripped the training spear tightly. His rust-coloured eyes burned with anger.

‘What’s going on?’ she wondered.

“Whoa there.” Armsmaster Byrne strode to the boys. “What’s the problem?”

Mikel snorted angrily and started to answer but Heron beat him to it.

“I was merely speaking the truth. Nothing more or less.”

“The way you spoke it matters. It is an insult!” Mikel growled.

“Is it an insult to say you are wasting your gifts?”

Mikel’s face flushed further nearly matching the shade of his hair. “That’s not your business to say so!”

Heron shook his head. “I am merely calling you what you are. I heard you received your mother’s Heritage yet look at you. You haven’t inlaid your Facet. You shouldn’t have had any trouble doing so. So there’s only one thing I can think of why you didn’t: you don’t like your Heritage.” Heron declared. “You were given something powerful to make something of yourself and you’re hesitating.”

Armsmaster Byrne interposed himself between the two boys. “That’s enough,” he said quietly, “don’t say anything you’ll regret.”

Yuriko, Krystal, and Mikel were childhood friends, tightly-knit because their parents were friends, too. Her father, Krystal’s father, and Mikel’s mother were once part of the same unit. Krystal’s father, Craig, was a Knight and served as the company’s pathfinder and scout. Mikel’s mother, Amiri Cypher, was also a Knight and provided firepower.

She had always imagined that the three of them would be in the same team in the future. Krystal got her father’s Heritage while it looked like Mikel inherited his mother’s. Yet what was Heron saying?

The corded muscles in Mikel’s jaw twitched. “No one has the right to dictate how I handle my Heritage,” he grunted.

Heron’s eyes widened, but he didn’t back down. “Normally true, but your lack of dedication can lead to your comrades’ death.” His eyes quickly glanced towards Yuriko and Krystal. “If you are so confident you have the luxury to hesitate, then why don’t you prove to me…to us that you can hold your own.”

“You can do it, Mikel!” Krystal yelled enthusiastically. “You can beat Heron if you try!”

‘Huh, I don’t think he can,’ Yuriko thought, frowning. ‘Even during prep school, Heron trained a lot.’ Still, she nodded encouragingly at Mikel, keeping her thoughts to herself.

“Alright,” Armsmaster Byrne said, “if you’re going to fight, do it in the sparring ring.”

Mikel nodded but Yuriko noticed sweat dripping down the back of his neck, and a nearly imperceptible tremble in his hands.

The boys were led to a changing room to put on protective gear.

Yuriko looked at the other boys, Zeyn and Janus. Janus was leaning against the wall, his breath still uneven while Zeyn was looking in her direction. She caught his gaze and the moment she did so, he looked away quickly. Undeterred, she walked up to him with Krystal following a few steps behind.

“Mind telling us what happened?”

The boy reddened and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Yuriko crossed her arms in front of her chest. Zeyn stuttered a few unintelligible words before he cleared his throat.

“Uh…”

Krystal cut him off with a smirk. “Were you even listening to them?”

“Uh, no sorry. I was thinking of something else.”

“I’d bet. Come on Yuri, Millie knows what happened.”

“Eh? Really? Wasn’t she with us?” Yuriko asked as Krystal grabbed her arm and dragged her in the direction of the four other girls.

“Ugh, why do we have to do this?” Danika was moaning, her shirt damp with sweat.

“You wanted to pass the training camp,” Maryn patiently explained. “And you wanted to lose weight.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Stop complaining then,” Maryn muttered under her breath. “You asked me to push you here.”

“Hello.” Yuriko and Krystal said together.

“Yuriko and Krystal,” Maryn said drily. “Why are you even here? Don’t your fathers train you already?”

“Hee hee,” Krystal snickered. “What’s wrong, Maryn? Can’t handle a little competition? Besides, it’s not as if they have nothing else to do.”

“Competition’s one thing, but…” Maryn shook her head. “Anyway, sure, welcome. I hope we all learn enough to pass the standards.”

“You hope to go to an Imperial Academy?” Yuriko asked.

“Who would not want that?” Maryn snorted. “Attending there is a fast track to success. We would even have the chance to leave Rumiga to attend the more prestigious Academies in the Core Planes or even in the Imperial Capital.” There was a fervent light in Maryn’s eyes, and Danika was nodding along.

“I see,” Yuriko answered softly. She hadn’t considered leaving Rumiga to continue her education though if she failed to enter Vagaris, it was something she would have to think about. She shook her head fiercely, ignoring the questioning looks. ‘Don’t think of failing before you even try!’

“Anyway,” Krystal turned to Millie who was looking in the direction of the changing room. “Millie, what were those two fighting about?”

“Hmm, oh.” Millie shrugged, “It was a pissing contest. You know how Heron loves to be at the forefront. Anyway, Mikel said he wasn’t sure if he wanted to inlay his Heritage and that pretty much drew Heron’s ire. Especially since Mikel’s Heritage is suited for combat, among other things.”

“I guess Heron thought it was a challenge,” Krystal mused.

“Why would Mikel even say that?” Ishika wondered.

Considering her own circumstances, she should have been irritated with Mikel’s attitude herself. But she and Krystal had known he didn’t want to receive his mother’s Heritage. Mikel had revealed it to them some time ago and, of course, neither of the girls would break this confidence.

The two boys and the Armsmaster emerged from the changing room. Mikel and Heron were wearing padded cotton jackets and breeches with green jade studs running down on either side.

The sparring ring was at the far end of the hall. It was marked by several concentric lines, the smallest one five paces across, the largest nearly as wide as the hall. Their instructor knelt and touched the circle that was roughly ten paces across. His fingertips glowed a muted green and the circle followed suit.

Both of the boys held a training spear that was shorter than the one they’d used earlier. Each was less than two paces long, just barely taller than Mikel. Armsmaster Byrne pressed a hand on each of the boys’ backs and the jade studs started glowing. The head protector shimmered and a slight distortion came down in front of each boy’s face.

“This match will be between Mikel Pike and Heron Muryh using short training spears, no shield. If you hit the torso or the head with an attack with Empowered Strike, the match will be over. Attacks not enhanced will only use up a bit of the gear’s barrier. Breaking the barrier will mean you win. You may use any other ability or technique you are capable of.”

Heron walked to one end of the circle, holding the spear in his right hand pointing down. When he turned to face Mikel, he had dropped into a sideways stance, left arm and leg forward, with the spear held at an angle.

Mikel’s stance was less…solid. His feet were too close together and he presented more of his body towards his opponent. His grip on the spear was, at least, correct, but he was clearly still tired from the exercise earlier.

“Begin.”

It wasn’t Heron who moved first. Mikel rushed with a shrill yell and he thrust the blunted spear tip as soon as he thought he could reach Heron. The taller boy met the attack with the haft, deflecting the strike with such force that the spear was almost torn from Mikel’s hands.

Heron’s swing was strong enough that it put his own weapon out of position, allowing the other boy to jump back. Neither of them used Animus on their blows, and once he recovered, Mikel immediately thrust his weapon several times, hoping to get a lucky hit in.

Heron growled as he parried and dodged. At one point, after he knocked Mikel’s spear off-centre, he lashed out with his right foot, putting all of his weight on the blow. It caught the shorter boy on the hip and a flare of white light burst from where his foot struck. Mikel staggered but it didn’t look like he was hurt. The light from the jade studs on his padded armour dimmed.

It was at that point that Heron started battering Mikel with the spear while the other boy tried to block or dodge. At one point, Mikel almost tripped on his own feet while doing so.

Yuriko winced every time one of the two combatants struck. Heron relied too much on brute force and Mikel barely knew what he was doing. Janus and Zeyn were jeering, while the other girls were eying Heron appraisingly.

Krystal pursed her lips and muttered under her breath, “Heron hasn’t even used his Facet yet.”

Eventually, Heron’s onslaught pushed Mikel over the edge of the circle.

“Stop,” Armsmaster Byrne called out. “Back to the centre, please. Mikel, if you go over the border again it will be your loss.”

“What’s the matter, Pike,” Heron spat. “You haven’t even hit me. How can you justify leaving your Facet alone?”

Mikel just growled, his face redder than his hair.

“Continue.”

Mikel rushed Heron again, this time, spear held high and wielded like a staff. He swung overhead, aiming to bash Heron’s helm or his shoulder. The taller boy used the haft of his weapon to block, knees bending to take in the force. Taking a leaf out of Heron’s book, Mikel kicked with his back foot, putting as much weight and acceleration as he could. Yuriko could see that if Heron didn’t react, Mikel’s foot would strike his crotch.

‘The sparring armour should take the blow,’ Yuriko thought.

But before Mikel’s foot could hit, a translucent, hexagonal panel materialized and blocking the attack. He staggered as the shield interrupted him mid-kick, throwing him off balance. Heron pushed with the haft as Mikel struggled to regain his footing. A streak of bluish light ran from Heron’s arm and into the spear, culminating in a bright flash as he struck with the blunted tip.

Off-balance, and weapon out of position, Mikel could only wince as the spear-tip struck his chest. His armour flashed white, eating up the blue glow from the spear, and the jade studs completely lost all luminescence. He fell on his bottom afterwards, spear skittering off outside the ring.

“End!” Armsmaster Byrne shouted. “Heron wins the match.”

“It wasn’t much of a match,” Heron gloated. “You dare to ignore your Heritage? You don’t have what it takes.”

Mikel bit his lips, unable to retort. Yuriko could see his eyes shimmer with unshed tears that he hid by looking at the floor.

“Don’t be a fool, Mikel, you’ll only get people killed with your half-hearted efforts,” Heron continued while Mikel’s face darkened. His hands clenched into fists and the arm supporting his weight trembled.

Yuriko stepped into the ring and walked up to the boys.

“That’s enough, Heron,” she said quietly. “It’s ultimately his choice.”

“That’s right,” Krystal said from where she stood.

Heron shifted his glare to Yuriko who returned it with a cool gaze. He opened his mouth a few times, but whatever he wanted to say remained unheard. He snorted, turned around, and headed to the changing room in silence.

Yuriko shook her head and reached out a hand to help Mikel up. The boy shook his head and rolled to his feet, plodding to the changing room with his shoulders slumped. Yuriko watched him stalk off with her hand still extended.

She sniffed, shook her head and walked back to Krystal with a sigh. Krystal rolled her eyes at her but didn’t say anything.

“Well, that was nothing more than children brawling.” Armsmaster Byrne remarked. “Come back tomorrow if you want to learn how to fight.” He addressed the rest of the kids. “You may go.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Yuriko asked Krystal as they left the hall. Maryn, Millie, Ishika, and Danika were walking ahead, tittering about the fight.

“I suppose,” Krystal said, “pick me up at my house?”

“At sunrise.”

“Alright, at sunri–wait! That’s too early!”

“It’s just right, actually.”

“Ancestors, Yuri! Why are you so determined to punish yourself?” Yuriko merely shrugged and grinned.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep